Wednesday, November 17, 2010

another letter in the mail.

every time i receive a letter or a postcard in the mail from her, i want to just throw it away. burn it. rip it up into a million pieces and spare myself the pain and the hurt of seeing her handwriting. depending on what she writes, it's easy for me to tell if it was written on a good day or a bad one. this one that i received was definitely written when she was lucid. two pages of her scribble, begging forgiveness, chastising me for being just as horrible to her, and asking me to visit her 8 hours away.

she writes: " you have acted horribly, but i can forgive because i am not with out blame for denying you so often. that's part of my handicap. i beg you to excuse the wandering speculations of a pent up spirit. we could start on new ground. you could visit."

i can't excuse. i can't forgive. i can't start a relationship with her all over again. the letter arrived the day after the police showed up at my door. further proof that her lucid moments are short and few between. the delusions are still the norm. and even after shutting the door, she is still affecting my ability to live my life. i have been a basket case all week. my job is affected. my spirit is affected. i can't fall asleep, and i don't want to get out of bed. and through all this, a small, still voice from the back of my head telling me it's time to find a therapist before i drown in this (yet) again.

the last time i felt this unhappy, i quit grad school, changed careers, and moved 4 hours away. and i don't want to do that again.

i'm so sorry, but i just can't.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

depression and the police.

i am fighting this depression with every inch of my being, but i can't find the energy. i spent the entire day in bed yesterday, waking up only to watch movies, and then answer the door for the police at 9 pm. the officer was nice, but i was crying. i told him i felt harassed. stalked by my own mother. and he basically said that the police never mind coming, and they have to cover their own ass. again i had to explain to a cop why my mother calls them, what her delusions are, and the waste of time it is for them. i asked if there was any way to stop them from coming, since it upsets me so much. he said no. they have to come.

in a ridiculous attempt at distracting myself, i am now going to drive 3 hours to massachusetts. i'm telling myself its to drop off my violin at my violin man, but i'm really going just to get out of the house.

i am so very sad lately.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

tonight's group meeting

The support group that I joined doubled in size tonight. Usually there are only 3 of us. Tonight there were 6. In the 11 months that i've been attending, this was the first time any one new had come along. The 3 individuals that came all shared their story - some with tears, some with stoicism. I became completely unraveled. There was so much to relate to - and even some discoveries for my own benefit - that I feel unable to sleep. There is so much I want to rethink. Mull over. Investigate.

I was so upset I ran to the nearest Target and bought comfort items (without realizing I was doing it.) A fleece bathrobe, new sheets, PJ bottoms, diet pepsi, a new trash can for the kitchen to make me feel like I had cleaned something...

I was so incredibly triggered. The topic was disagreements, and our comfort with them. I wound up talking about the disagreements I have with myself almost daily. Voicing that I am constantly disagreeing with myself because while I have cut my mother off, and drawn the proverbial line in the sand, I still crave information about her, and her state of being. I was reliving every fear and frustration of not being able to heal her - save her - get her to the hospital. The hopelessness and regret and guilt. The wish my brother would seek some kind of help instead of acting as if he were impervious. Instead of cutting out his own family in favor of his wife's.

One of the newcomers expressed fears about the future - what would happen when he married, when he moved out of the house. I swear all I wanted to do was wrap him in my arms, tell him it was OK if he wanted to leave his ill mother, that he was allowed to think about his own needs, that he was going to have to figure out his own boundaries, and that he would have a life without the burden of caring for his mother. But I can't do that. I can't even make those claims to myself, let alone someone else. But always that need and desire to help and soothe everyone but myself. It never goes away. I will continue to put everyone else in front of myself.

I thought I had made progress over the past year. But maybe I haven't. Why else would I have lost it the way that I did? Why do I still feel like this? Like the weight on my shoulders will not let go, and that I just want to eat, eat, eat until I throw up?

I guess in truth I wanted him to put his arms around me, and tell me everything is going to be ok. I need that from someone else. I need a hug. I need a shoulder to cry on.