I've got so much work to do, but I'm taking a mental health evening. I read Damn You AutoCorrect! and got a good laugh. I even had a nap. I needed a mental health evening instead of working at every available minute cuz Mom had to be taken to the hospital again at about 5 a.m. this morning via ambulance. She started vomiting and had other "issues", while her hands were tingling and burning like fire. Sounded like an allergic reaction to me. I didn't take her, but that didn't mean that I wasn't up bothered, tho. Yes, I prayed.
Today was my day. Stephen and I started switching days (one day is his work day and the next is mine) and we get a bunch more done that way. I was glad today was mine; I got to paint. It didn't help with my attitude, tho, like it usually does.
I'm just tired. Bone tired. What triggers my depression is stressful events that just keep coming, like ocean swells knocking me down over and over, and I think thats whats going on.
Normally, I'm a conqueror- I don't worry, I deal with "it", attack whatever it is head on when "it" happens and I'm not afraid of much of anything. But this shit keeps coming. Just when I think I've got a little while to recuperate, I get hit again. And I'm starting to get pissed off about it. God, fate, bad luck, whatever it is, give me a freaking break for about two months. Just let me catch my breath and get a few steps forward, ok?
Not that I think life shouldn't be this way, that these experiences are unfair, it what it is and I could be anybody. I would feel better if I could get a leg up out of this pit that keeps getting deeper. Every time I get my stuff set up to go out and network with other art sellers/dealers/interior designers, something serious happens and all forward progress has to cease. I get a project going and momentum (you know, the "flow" where its coming together and you're in the zone) I have to stop to write some dry assed complaint form with the Mississippi Board of Realtors or Dispute of Settlements and Fees. Its both draining and distracting, then there's this recuperation time (that may or may not happen) and then shit hits the fan again:
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Then there is the house in Mississippi we couldn't sell and was consequently rented out, resulting in the brouhaha/misunderstanding with the new tenant and our 501c3's belongings that was still at the house, the 20-day-toilet-leak, the repairman not doing his job, the property manager giving 1/2 months rent to the tenant for two months w/out permission, also knocking off over 1/2 of the security deposit- guess what? W/out permission, the wall being destroyed by the repairman, the yard there being destroyed as per his direction and then he sends us a BILL for HIS services??? WT flying F??? (Backstory: I looked the guy up on facebook-- we have similar viewpoints and character. He loves animals, is compassionate and wants to to his best.The only thing I see that can excuse what he did with our finances is that he was giving unauthorized reduced rates to the tenant at our expense. What he didn't know is that we are on equally hard times and deserved the same amount of compassion. Hell, I had a non-profit and did everything for free... I've proven that I want the best for people, too, and that I'm FAR from greedy but don't screw my family!)
Tack onto that, Devyn decides he doesn't want to eat, almost to the point that we were going to seek out another specialist. He had a birthday that I was bound and determined that all else would be stopped for... and that turned out to be a really good day and truly rejuvinating and wonderful. Seriously, no sarcasm... it was wonderful to be with new friends and see him enjoy himself. Chelisa, Candy and Jan actually saw me being my distracted silly self and still like me, ha ha.
That was the surface. Here is the underneath part..... The bit with my Mom and how she handles her health issues triggers old issues for me. If you don't know yet, growing up, I lived in a domestically violent home--- for years, both parents were alcoholics and my Dad was horribly abusive in anyway he could be towards my Mom. (Later, he turned it towards me, only shortly tho because I whooped his old ass. Funny how an ass-whoopin changes attitudes.) Anyway, in the early yeas, I was the only one there sober, yet I was only 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14 years old during those episodes. I tried to fix and make better in any way I could.
When my Mom was drunk, she'd hide behind me while Dad tried to beat her. When the beatings weren't going on, instead of enjoying the quiet time and trying to protect me from the stress (which was daily) she shared things no vulnerable child needed to know- I say that to say this, the stress was never-ending. What compounded the problem was that I was the only one "allowed" into her life, so she was being stifled, needed a confidant and I was it. Secrets, sex, violence, her fears, her hatreds. I was my Dad's confidant, too, so this was going on from both sides, however she never tried to kill him. There was nothing left out of either of the conversations, no matter how horrific, so I was basically both their emotional garbage dumps... anything vitreolic and insidious was told to me about the other. (This is why nothing shocks me to this day and I make a damn good counselor. I can understand any emotion and even relate to it. And its also where the "conquerer" part comes from.)
So... I empathize and feel for her plight, but this does not decrease the impact the experience had on me, no matter how legitimate her reasons. I simply never had anyone to protect me, ever. She thought she did in certain anecdotal situations (like the molester down the road), but in the larger picture??? And here's a secret: I was never scared of the damned molester. If I could handle that violent King Kong guy that lived with us, the molester didn't stand a chance anyway.
As it went, in the earlier years, she knew that my Dad wouldn't hurt me (intentionally, not until I was 13 or 14) and hid behind me in emotional, physical and manipulative ways. I took the blame for things so she wouldn't get beaten, I protected her physically, I would pick up the tab for mistakes so life could be non-homicidal (no exaggeration) and then talk him into letting her go to the doctor or having her basic needs met. Maybe this is why accountability has never been anything I've ran from. If I do it, I own it. Hell, I've had a lifetime of taking it for other people.
Anyway, mind you, by admitting that damage was done to me does not mean I have not forgiven her, nor do I hold her accountable for it now... it just means I'm honest with the cards I've been dealt and acknowledge I still feel repercussions. It might be this way forever, thats ok. Whatever. The previous is a valid context for how it relates to today.
What impacts me is that this still goes on. She gets anything wrong with her, I'm still the first person she calls, instead of the doctor. Its like she needs my validation, all these years later, to get what she needs done- done. I tell her: "Call the doctor. I am not a medical professional and the only thing you are accomplishing is worrying me and stressing me out. I don't need that, I am a mother prone to depression and I need to be top knotch for MY child. Me being stressed isn't beneficial for anyone and your issues aren't being addressed in the meanwhile."
I don't know what more I can do. She'll be 73 this year, I doubt this will change, although she wants it to. I guess I have to stop the conversations as best I can and shut it up and move it forward. To make matters worse, I'm in the life stage when I'm supposed to be like her parent. But I've done it so long, I'm tired of it. Really.
What I want: Just someone to protect me from this shit for a little while, just a little while. Let me think all is well for just a little while. I'd like a period of 8 weeks at least of NOTHING breaking, NO ONE getting sick and needing to go to the ER, hospital or doctor, NO medicine being discontinued or running out, NO house mending, NO major holidays, NO ONE giving compassionate monetary breaks at OUR expense, NO broken bones, NO computers or cars breaking down, either.
Just days on end to work at "making it", recuperating from the past 2 months and playing and enjoying my family for a change. I'm praying for that tonight. OK, God, really, I'm tired. Just sheild me and protect me for a little while, OK?
I'm going to bed now. Much love and Good night.