Welcome to my ramblings

It’s at time likes this when I can’t get my mom off my mind.  I was sitting outside & started worrying if she was okay in her apt., then it hit me that she died.  In an odd way, I felt relief for her and for me, I don’t have to picture her (in my mind) fallen on her bathroom floor…suffering, or worry about the most unrealistic things happening to her.  Even though she’s gone, I know she’s safe.  That seems like kind of a backwards way of thinking, doesn’t it?

In many ways I’m fortunate.  Although I am able to think of things I regret regarding my mom, they are very few, and quite honestly, I really have to think hard to come up with them. My mom lived 85 wonderful years, she died 6 days after her birthday. She’d told me a few days before that, that this would be her last birthday. I told her not to say that, even though I knew it was most likely true, Although the days before her death weren’t how I envisioned them, she was well cared for and surrounded by family that loved her.

My daughter’s co-worker lost her mom recently and said something to the affect that her mom’s death was nothing like she expected; it wasn’t what we see in the movies, or on t.v.   And to add to the issue is that in our society, death is rarely talked about… it’s a taboo subject. Every single death, or act of dying is different. I’ve learned that worrying about somebody dying, or trying to think how you’ll feel after their gone, is such a waste of time, and I think it’s more common than we like to admit.  We want to be in control, especially of our loved ones, but at that time, in that process, we’re not.  We can just love them and take care of their needs; Hospice is such a godsend

In other societies the passing onto the afterlife is considered sacred; I consider it sacred, but at the same time that has no effect on how painful the loss of my mother is. I’m pretty sure my beliefs about the afterlife are nontraditional and I struggled for years to find my “truth”.  It’s not the truth most have.  I believe my mom is in a beautiful place filled with light, love and all her loved ones.  I don’t believe in a mean, angry or vengeful “god”, I don’t even believe in 1 particular entity.  Quite honestly, I don’t find that part relevant. I simply believe that when we pass to the afterlife, we’re surrounded by love-no matter who we are, or were. That’s enough for me.

I have this peace of mind and yet I ache for her.  I can’t tell you how many mornings I’ve woken up and it’s like that movie, Groundhog Day, except it’s awful. In my sleep I forgot my mom died, so when I wake up, I think she’s alive, and then I remember and I just cry. One time last week it happened 3 times in one morning. It is happening less and I think I’m less shocked when I remember, perhaps I should be happy in that moment that I think she’s still alive.

I know I’m jumping all over the place, that’s what my mind does at night. This may not make sense to anyone but me, but I think this (me thinking of my mom so much) is in a way, hanging on to her. When this part passes or I move on from it, it will be 1 less part of my mom that I have here with me.

I’m an honest person, so when I say “I’m going to be perfectly honest…” don’t think it means I’m not at other times, k? That said, I’m going to be perfectly honest here: I will completely understand if anybody stops reading my blog. Right now I know I’m writing for me. I do have a journal that I write to my mom in, but this is part of my therapy. I’m sure some people must think I think of my mom too much, and maybe I do. What I’m trying to say is I realize this probably interests/benefits nobody but me.

Until she died I hadn’t realized how close we were, how much time we spent together. I was at her beckon call for the past 2 years and I didn’t dislike it.  Yes, at times I was lazy & didn’t want to go out, but she helped me in that way cuz I’d take her for her hair appt., mani/pedi, to the market, clothes shopping, visiting relatives. She gave me a purpose, she really did.

12/22/12

I feel like I’m crawling out of my fucking skin!! I’ve been having anxiety every single day for probably a week now. I know a lot get stressed around the holidays; I don’t really have anything to be stressed about. I’ve cut back on gifts & am trying to get my family to just give funny cards ~ it’s lots of fun to sit around, open your funny card & share them; everyone is cracking up laughing & having a great time. It takes away all the pressure of buying gifts, alas, my kids are still getting gifts, I got my kids gifts…but still, that’s not adding any pressure.

Things at home are good, very good. I’ve taken an anxiety pill & am still chewing at the skin on my fingers, my ears are ringing, I can’t concentrate- if I were depressed I’d say it’s agitated depression, but I don’t think I’m depressed. Late at night I’m reading and then, out of nowhere I start worrying. Meditating is out of the question. (although the other night I did sing to Trixi when she was snoring really loud & it calmed her down)Knowing that “some” day someone close to me is going to die. And trust me, I get that it’s part of life & all that, I just can’t imagine anything happening to my mom, or Dick, or either of my kids…even Trixi. The feeling is so overwhelming  at night that I just lay there, crying. I want to go hide somewhere, some place where I don’t even have to consider the realities of life. It’s not something I knowingly I plan on thinking about – it just happens. It makes me want to crawl into a ball, sit in a secluded corner and stay there forever. As unrealistic as that sounds, it’s my wish, at least until this awful sense of dread leaves.

Where this dread came from & why it’s here, why the anxiety keeps returning ~ I don’t know. I take naps when I get too anxious, my only energy is nervous energy. While I try not to show my feelings, I know I’m someone I wouldn’t want to hang around-if I were reading this blog. Still, I’ve got to get this out to hopefully feel better. Change something. Figure something out. Accept the impermanence in life, that I know…I get, but why am I having such a problem with this? Even if I figure this out, I don’t know for sure it’s the root of my anxiety & these horrible feelings that seem to have control of my life.

I could say I’m looking at my glass as 1/2 empty, which would be true. I’m not accepting life on life’s terms- kind of true-I’m fighting it. Pray. Higher Power. Hot baths. Hot tea. I’m not counting my blessings-possibly-things could be much worse. However, ALL of that put on the table, it doesn’t “fix” my problem- this fucking anxiety & sense of dread. Went to bed crying, woke up in a panic. Why?

Shitfuck

Nice title, eh? Back in ’07 when I was on Topamax for depression (and it was supposed to help my migraines) I gradually started noticing my vocabulary was diminishing. It got to the point where I couldn’t even remember the names for basic things like appliances, names, and even cuss words – so my “go to” cuss word, the only one I could say, was Shitfuck. I started researching the side effects of all the new meds I was on & lo & behold the problem was Topamax aka “the california drug”, “the stupid drug” “the blonde drug”…all because it has the potential to make you stupid and it was. I’d been on it for 6 mos., even my fellow bloggers noticed the change it me, it was that obvious. I immediately got off of it & gradually got my memory & vocabulary back. Now, it’s kind of a joke between Dick & I when I say that, but back then, it was no joke.

Today, shitfuck is the word that best describes my life. Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot to be grateful for: on July 5th, I got my 60 chip from N.A., my son has a new job, everyone in my family is in good health – my mom is even going for walks!

But me? Inside? It’s a shitfuck. I know depression when it starts rearing its head & thats a red-flag for me because what follows is detrimental to my life. Sometimes depression is situational- which is easier to deal with. Sometimes it’s generalized- which is what this is. I can’t talk to my family about it cuz they’d flood me with advice & suggestions. I haven’t seen my therapist in 4-5 weeks which is a long time, 1 appt. was cancelled by us, 1 by my therapist, fortunately, I see him tomorrow. For today, I wish I could just sleep & hopefully I will later.

It’s hard to put into words so that people that don’t understand it, or don’t have Borderline Personality Disorder, can relate. As with depression, I can recognize the signs of BPD rising up in my life-mostly in my emotions & brain…my thinking becomes skewed. I get paranoid and other weird shit that I’m not gonna go into.

The main things though are that I don’t feel “connected” with anyone…not 1 person. I don’t think I even feel grounded with myself & the best way to describe that is a balloon with a string attached flying away-it’s not grounded…but that’s me. I’m overwhelmed with worry about things that I have absolutely no control over. “God help me accept the things I cannot change.” That is…whoever/whatever/wherever you are, God.  I don’t feel hopeless, I just wish that for today, I didn’t feel. Period. And I selfishly say that knowing someone I care about is in her last days – but still, I’m being honest & that’s how I feel.

My daughter & I have always been close & while we talk, it’s not the same. She talks about superficial things & acts like everything is fine. She’s living with her boyfriend now & he’s a really good guy, but I want my relationship with her back. Our calls are short, her visits are short, my mom hasn’t talked to her in 2 weeks (Jill normally calls my mom at least once if not twice a week) I know it’s normal for us not to talk so often, but it’s the quality of our talks, not the quantity. Aaaand another family issue with my brother that I won’t go into- its just really fucked up.

And then there’s the shit going on with social media sites… it seems more often than not, when you think you know somebody & have made a friend (especially over months) & they turn out to be so opposite of the person you thought you knew- losing that friend hurts. It doesn’t matter “who” they really are, its like mourning the loss of someone & is still painful. In this case, there’s no going back, but there is a certain empty spot of fun & laughter I shared with that person. This isn’t the 1st time it’s happened & I’m sure it won’t be the last – que sera, sera! (I’m not mentioning this for this topic to be discussed in detail, so if anybody comments, please remember this is just me dumping this stuff to get it out of me)

I’ve been doing what I’m supposed to: helping others, reading N.A. material & keeping in touch with friends there, attending meetings, praying/meditating, staying CLEAN, even exercising (but havent this week). So, what gives? Life. I read somewhere this week that we shouldn’t see obstacles as negative, but those are actually our learning opportunities to grow. Sounds good, doesn’t it? Doesn’t feel so good…it feels like shitfuck.