happy birthday, buncy

it's something my mother would have said when i was a child.

birthdays are such funny things. this is perhaps the first one where i don't really give a damn about what i do. last year i got all worked up because i invited a bunch of folks to come out and no one did. but not this year. i just want my 3 best friends for dinner out somewhere.

i also want to avoid receiving a package from mom. every year since our estrangement, she sends a box of something she has hand-knit. i cleaned a closet out last night, and found a scarf, a shawl, and a hooded sweater in a box that she sent over the years. i guess the progress is that i didn't immediately rebox them. i put the sweater on. it made me feel weird. wrong. like i could put it on, and think of her, and no one would have to know but me. i wouldn't have to admit to it out loud. i wouldn't have to admit that i like the idea that she made it with her own hands, and she held it, and she sent it with love. i wouldn't have to admit that i wanted that in some small way.

but i guess you're always the little girl you used to be, and you never really get over wanting your mommy. even when you're 28, and still unable to make peace with the fact that she's never coming back.

i have only one birthday wish: that this be a better year for me emotionally. because my heart hurts.

emails and a new house

my mother came up with yet another email address for herself. it's already been blocked. this email was not angry like her last, but rather, the disgustingly sweet, forgiving, peace-offering motherly type. she said she had sent me a package for my birthday.

is it wrong that i'm already trying to figure out how i refuse my signature with ups? i don't need her to have delivery confirmation. i wonder if they "return to sender." whatever is in the box is nothing i want.

i guess i'd be able to understand her if i had my own kids - i'm sure i wouldn't be able to understand the rejection either. but right now, all i want is her complete and total absence from my life, and she is doing everything possible to keep herself in it. short of showing up at my door. that would certainly test my patience at every level. i'd probably just want to hit her.

in other news, my brother is buying a house. he's such an adult. so much more so than i think i will ever be. i wonder where i'll be in 5 years. right now, it hurts to know that he will never return home to ny. that unless i move towards him, that our relationship will continue as it has been for the past few years. i really miss the closeness we had. i miss seeing him all the time. i miss my sister-in-law, who i love just as much. i truly miss being a part of their everyday lives.

do i miss them enough to uproot myself yet again? that is the question.

rumors.

i spoke to my sister-in-law today, who answered the phone, "what's wrong?" the actual reason i had called was to figure out how i could go for a visit as a surprise for my brother's birthday. but it made me realize how much we all are on pins and needles in this family. ALWAYS vigilant. ALWAYS ready for the next drama, episode, catastrophe. we are poised to support and empathize with whichever family member has been targeted by my mother.

i shrugged it off at the time, but now that i've been home to think about it, it's so sad. we are constantly on edge.

she then asked if i had spoken to my brother lately. when i replied no, she proceeded to tell me that one of the emails that i had blocked from my mother had said she planned on coming to my apartment to see me on my birthday, a mere 2 weeks from now. my initial reaction was laughter. "that's nice," i replied. my sister-in-law laughed back. that would be an interesting attempt on her part. if she actually shows up, i hope i act rationally. i hope i act calmly, and ask her to leave in a calm manner. i really don't think i know how i will react. i can only hope i don't lose my temper and scream back at her.

i have to remember she's ill. and treat her as such.

maybe she could just do me the gigantic favor of not showing up. short of an order of protection for harassment/stalking, there really isn't much i can do.

for christie.

it's easy to lose perspective, sometimes, when blogging about your own issues. i have faithfully recorded most of the feelings i'll admit to outloud in this blog when it comes to my mother, my fears, my life... my hopes and dreams. but mostly, it's become my space for venting, finding clarity, finding feedback, and letting all the bad and ugly hang out.

but something happened this week that has made me pause in my own nonsense.

my friend christie is 28. she has been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. if she is lucky, according to her doctors, she will have another 5 to 10 years of life. christie is an amazing girl. full of life, sarcastic wit, teaches english to inner city kids, and just got married this past july. she is someone who has continually pushed me, and even though we only see each other a few times a year, she has been an important part of my life.

i can't believe this is happening to her.

it puts my own life in perspective. what the hell am i waiting for? i live for work, and not work to live. i wallow at home in misery and sadness because i cannot control my mother's life, and because i can't find the energy to better myself. i'll put it off for another day. do the dishes tomorrow. fall in love next year. put money away for retirement, and dream about the day i get to retire at 55.

but what if there is no next year? what if there is no 55th birthday?

i am probably being dramatic, but i just can't afford to keep living my life the way i have been. something has to change, and it has to change now. there are no guarantees in life, and i've been living like my life is on hold. like i'm waiting for something good to happen. like i'm waiting to magically wake up and find everything different.

but sweetie, this is where we are. you got to make the changes for yourself. and if not now, when??

no, every time i start to feel myself put life on hold again, i'm going to say christie's name. look in the mirror. and realize that i have to live every day as if it were my last. because for christie, it could be. and what a waste that will be.

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.

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.

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.