Mesmerized by the cold dark morning, I communed once again with my silver sparkling friends. I’m drawn to their faint light in the early hours of the morning no matter the temperature. I went to sleep early last night and woke up way too early. 3:30 am. Such awakenings used to frustrate me but I’m getting used to them now. For some reason, this time of year I tend to wake up an hour before my alarm. Maybe it’s that I need the quiet time of the morning to sort out my thoughts and my body just responds with what it needs most. I’m getting used to it now and learning to appreciate it instead of fight it. I know I’ll be tired later on but that’s okay. Not having a hard time getting to sleep at night has been a blessing this week. Each night as I retire, I have felt as though I have run a marathon.
Emotional stress and strain takes a toll on the body whether you acknowledge it or not. The challenges of the last several years taught me that. I’m ever hopeful for a reprieve so I can work to getting back to normal but then again, maybe this is the new normal for me…learning to operate in a state of anxiety throughout the day. At some point the thoughts will settle without generating anxiety and I will be able to function better without reacting so much to drama. There is a part of me still dealing with anger and frustration with my mother’s sick joke. I guess from her perspective, it isn’t a joke. She’s killing herself with alcohol and maybe it was just all some type of cry for help but in the wrong way. The best course of action for my mom would be an inpatient rehab program. Such a program would provide a year’s worth of food and shelter and many base their fee on one’s ability to pay. She was in such a program but she checked herself out after a week. She doesn’t believe in an alcohol rehab program that won’t let her consume morphine, lortabs and vicodin.
I understand her need for a head change, I understand the need to distance her mind from the pain she generates and I so understand the inner rebellion against anything that would truly help her to maintain life and health. I just don’t agree with it because I’m on the outside and can see the sure death she’ll be met with. I watched my father die from alcoholism. I watched it steal his mind, then his body and then his soul from this life. For him, it seemed to happen so quickly, in 7 months of drinking every day, he died. My mom exists on stealing energy from people and hatred. It’s so sad. She so needs help but you cannot show her compassion as she latches on to it like it’s a pill and expects continual consumption in order to be okay until the one giving her compassion is drained and lifeless and then she attacks them.
I get so sad thinking about her state. I get frustrated thinking about the blame she places on me for ruining her life. I don’t own any of that because her life is the result of her choices…I just removed myself from the soap opera and as of Monday, neither she, nor her sick and twisted friends can call and harass me anymore. My home number will be changed and she won’t have it. It’ll be unlisted. I won’t know what happens to her after that but I have to take care of myself in this, let her go, let these feelings go and work on healing them without her interference. My brother will get all of the calls from here on out. It’s fair. I had to take care of my dad. He can take care of mom. I just can’t have her attacking me for helping her. I can’t subject myself to that much pain.
So, today is going to be a good day. Especially now that I’ve acknowledged these thoughts this morning and let them go. Dealing with the words attached to feeling floating around inside my head always leaves me feeling a little bit lighter. I plan to spend the weekend with family and friends taking care of me and trying to refill myself with the energy that’s been ripped away. Thank God I’ve got friends and family there for me. I cherish that safety net and am grateful that despite all the good reasons I have to not let anyone in, I don’t shut people out any more. I let my friends in and accept their help, wisdom and shoulders willingly until I’m strong enough to take steps on my own. It’s a good thing to allow others to help you but wise never to grow dependent on that. You always must be in a healthy state of being able to walk on your own. When you’re weak and a friend carries you a few steps, that’s fine, just don’t expect it every day. That was my mother’s downfall. She continually gave her power to anyone who gave her sympathy and then demanded they continue to carry her even long after she could have and should have carried herself.
These are my thoughts for the day. A few more, deal with your woes head on and when you need a friend to lean on a bit, let them know…take your steps purposefully and allow yourself to heal and let go of pain, allow yourself time to process and then, watch for the sunlight peeking out from dark storm clouds and eventually you’ll be walking again in the sun. Peace.
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