i’m having hard times finding words or focus to write.
i’ve managed to not smoke this week again, so for most of a month i have done well.
i am angry.
More and more, i hear the ghostly hysteria of my mothers thoughts on this whole situation. She would not be angry with me, but would resent what i’ve been through. About things that i share here and things that i don’t.
i blew up the other day. Just lost my shit totally. It’s taken me five years-through calmly and quietly saying how behaviors make me sad, wound my sense of self, damage my self worth-none of which mattered enough to create change.
i keep thinking about that.
If someone i loved said my behavior was making them feel damaged, not worth much, unstable, suicidal-it would be my top priority to change immediately and totally.
i haven’t demanded change.
i binged. i starved. i turned the hate inward, like i always do. Add a smile, look nice, do my part and more, keep my heart open.
None of that stuff endeared change. Maybe seeing the tiniest glimmer of my anger will.
One thing is sure-
She would have NEVER survived my mother, who regularly reminded us during childhood that we were worthless, disgusting, damaged. She also would go from extreme ignoring to no boundaries. From physical abuse to main shopping sprees. It’s not a mystery why i would cling to service, to something dependable, to not being forced to hide my feelings, or why i might resent not being able to purge them. The only way the emotional and physical abuse was not going on constantly was that i was excellent at service, did all of the chores, all the work. Above reproach. Could never be called worthless or lazy or have to listen to quoted Bible Verses “He who does not work should not eat.” It did’t matter. i wasn’t eating anyway.
i am 9/10 a stepford wife.
Something SR said she never wanted, but that is what she turned me into. Familiar isn’t safe but it feels like it.
On the flip side, there is a ton of good stuff going on at the same time.
Her birthday, which i planned, was a total success. We even had a small breakthrough where she managed to hear how i feel about something. She loved the restaurant i chose, the food, the gifts. It may have taken us five years to get to a place where she can relax and receive love, but that is a miracle of its own. We did that. And it was important.
We met with coworkers for dinner and drinks that next day. Then with Sir Josh and Ro after that for our Biannual Korean Bar-b-que. Things went off the rails, for me. It’s one thing for us to be sitting around doing a podcast with SR bellowing at me, “Hush up! Shut up!” but different in public. It didn’t feel good and i had my heart all open and stuff. We had just done returns, and SR surprised me by doing something very kind, seeing and picking out two handbands. So i was feeling like Daddy’s Pretty Little Girl and had my heart all open and got it slammed shut.
It’s been a bit of a rollercoaster ride emotionally.
Also Express Scripts pisses me off. No meds. Third time. This is just the worst.
i do love Sir Raven. i’m sad when i see glimpses of how we were in happier times because i can’t trust in them. i don’t know how to manage my own emotions. i am exhausted, physically and emotionally. Thank God i’m in the last few days of school and get a break coming up. i need it.
Also-need meds. this time, it’s the pain pills. Yesterday, SR looked over at me and said that she couldn’t see the look of pain on my face anymore, and helped me get into bed, tucked me in. i think i am a far better actor than i am at covering the pain, until i can’t anymore. It is hard to not start feeling hysterical inside when i have to face that i need help. i always wonder if that is why things go badly.
Karida and i had a lovely tea, which made me aware of how much i need to sink into a safe little girl spot and just be. Later, in the glittery headband store, i was sort of rocking and singing the sound song i had made up for Jacob, so we could talk to each other. He didn’t speak or vocalize much, but i made a song that sounds like what happy sounds me made. Otherwise, we used signs. The only word he would say is Mama, for me. i hadn’t realized i had gone away that far inside of myself until i was sort of rocking back and forth, quietly singing the song. When i did realize what i was doing, i stopped and took of the princess tiara and tried to talk instead. i can only hope that her Daddy was so mesmorized by her, that she didn’t notice me being a strange bird that cannot fly.