Ya know, I really dislike that (to me) my posts seem to be all whining about stuff.  When I re-read them (for a bit of perspective) I am annoyed.

I also know that I tend to write when I am irritated and this helps me vent out the negative feelings that I don’t wish to carry around in my life.

It does work!

I need to remember this when I am feeling irked that I appear to be whining and bemoaning my circumstances.  And when I review previous posts.

Interestingly, I find when I review posts that are a few weeks (or older) old I feel a bit better finding I have progressed from that “bad” place.

Just ruminating…

I’m a survivor.  Ok, so I’m no Gloria Gaynor… but still…I’m a survivor.

This past week has been difficult.  Very busy because of work.  and that is A-OK with me.  Stressful but I can handle it.

DH and I are talking and stuff and my finances seem to be coming along.  So that is goin’ alright as well.

Getting used to living in a room…in someone else’s house.

But, I don’t WANT to say this…I want to just ignore her and forget her forever…But…I miss my mom.  If my mom were not freakkin nutz! I would be able to talk with her.  I am way (WAAAAYYYY) past trusting her with anything…EVER!  And yet I miss her.  My missing her almost feels like a betrayal of myself.

I had told her (five years ago and quite a few times since then)  if she pulled the suicide thing again I was never going to speak with her.  I almost didn’t do it.  I almost caved because she sounded so pathetic.  But after her last text to me (that I am aware of) I blocked her. According to mom I’m selfish and a disappointment and she and dad didn’t raise me to be this way.  Translation: I didn’t do what she wanted, how she wanted and when she wanted.  Honest! I swear it is true!  After I did her a favor, but not the full 100% of what she wanted (I did what she NEEDED) and then I didn’t go see her.  (Sorry mom but I can’t see you when I am so angry and hurt AGAIN! because you are a narcissistic twat!)  So with one finger she strokes me and says thank you and with the other hand she swats/hits/bangs on my head and tells me I’m a disappointment.

I am no longer available for that bullshit!

One week after landing in the psyche ward at my hospital I was speaking with a friend of hers and they said “Your mom told me how her words were misunderstood and she would never have done anything to hurt herself!”  I wanted to shake this woman and tell her pull her head out of her ass.  I didn’t.  If my mom has one friend, even someone who has blinders on or someone who simply has yet to be hurt by her, I’m happy.  I wanted to pull up the vile texts my mother sent to my brother and I telling us that she would simply commit suicide after she was discharged, the hospital couldn’t stop her.  Her “aren’t you happy you can say I told you so” texts came through loud and clear.  The bitter words because what we tried to help prevent (not with giving money or doing everything she wanted) but by offering our help with budgeting and assistance with grocery shopping and things like that) has come to pass.

And yet, YES, I still miss her.  She was actually quite a wonderful woman when we were younger.  Sadly when we started to grow up and develop brains and thoughts of our own she didn’t handle it well.  And yet part of me still misses her.

I think I need to learn to embrace that part of me and let myself grieve a bit for the mom I had and the mom I never had…and the mom I don’t have now.

OK, so Thanksgiving didn’t go exactly as I planned.  I had NO idea that, in order to deliver food, serve food or do anything with the homeless/home-bound or whatever on Thanksgiving Day…you have to sign up in like…July!    I was bereft of something to do.

Providence stepped in.

One of my friends tried to get healthy.  She started a high fiber diet.  She landed in her local hospital with diverticulitis and a partial bowel obstruction.  I drove on down to visit her.  It was really nice.  While I didn’t have the opportunity to do something for the “community” I was able to do something for MY community.

See…I can be positive!

Dinner was odd.  the food was good and I really cannot complain.  Dinner was odd because I didn’t make it.  And I really wasn’t any part of it.

I know that I am not the only one to be separated.  I also know that there are others who probably handled it better or who handle it worse.  I am not .. like .. SAD.  I would say I am more melancholy.  I’m more likely to cry over the dogs I miss than DH.  And so, that leads me to… I am confused.  Aren’t I suppose to feel horrible about this whole thing?  Aren’t I suppose to be crying and beating my breast about this?  Depression…thy name shouldst be RUTH!  And yet…I feel rather positive.  I feel like I am moving forward.

I opened up a new checking & savings account.  I have transferred 1/2 of our credit card debt to my new cards.  If I buckle down then I should have both my car and the credit cards paid off in 13 months.  It won’t leave me a lot of extra (or even, a little extra) cash.  I’ll be on a strict budget…but that is OK.  I can do this for one year!  By this time next year I should be credit card debt free and my car will be free and clear.  Ok, by this time plus 1.5 months…but still.  Ya know what I mean.

I haven’t had my own checking/savings/credit card in over 20 years!  It feels odd.  Other than desperately needing my hair done and a freakin’ pedi…it feels really good.  I’ll get my hair done and a pedi in 13.3 months.  till then, there are ponytails and nail clippers and foot files.

Onto a new day!

So, as we are all aware, Thanksgiving is RIGHT AROUND THE FUKKING CORNER!  oh joy.

For over 20 years I have made Thanksgiving dinner.  I get up at the ass-crack of dawn and start cooking and baking;  I love it!  My music is playing.  No one pesters me because they all want the dinner I’m cooking up.  After about 2 hours of cooking the house starts to smell AMAZING! Eventually the house starts waking up and people try to snatch a bit of stuffing or pie or…what ever.  The house is clean and being cleaned!  The table is set and sometimes, depending on time and inclination, the house is decorated for Christmas.

This year will be a bit different.

No baking/cooking/decorating/cleaning or anything this year.  And I am sad.  My girlfriend’s family is coming round for Thanksgiving and none of them like to stray too far from their traditional: grocery store pie, Stove Top Stuffing, potatoes from a box and, fortunately, real turkey.  Now I believe that there is a place for Stove top Stuffing.  That place is in an occasional casserole or possibly as a quick starch for a non-spectacular dinner.  It is NOT for Thanksgiving day dinner~!  Neither is a box of potatoes.  I did offer to cook but was politely declined.  and that is OK.  I was feeling a bit sorry for myself but I had a stroke of brilliance (Ok, not truly brilliant but it’s better than just saying I had a stroke!).  I am going to deliver meals on wheels Thanksgiving morning.

Serving the community on a holiday is not a new concept.  I have often wanted to do something with a soup kitchen or some sort of service but the preparation of my own dinner precluded this.  Well..whatcha know…I now have a bit of time on my hands.  I’m working on turning lemons into lemonade.

I realize it is actually rather selfish to do this.  I need something to keep my mind off of my own troubles and so I will deliver food to people who are less fortunate…and make myself feel better.  Yup…but I think I’ll be OK w/this.

Met with DH last night and ironed out some financial responsibilities.

We have a very good base and have an agreement to re-assess the information in January 2019 again.

I think we were both fair.

I can’t cry.

I left the dinner, last night, thinking only positive/moving forward thoughts.  And about 15 minutes into my drive I began to wonder…why aren’t I crying?  What is going on?  I am feeling OK…

This morning I wrote out our financial agreement and sent it onto Steve.

I can’t cry.

Went to talk with a colleague about everything and I was as dry eyed as it is possible to be; no nose twinges or sniffles.  No need for even a tissue dab…

Then she asked about my dogs and I almost melted down.

Now I love my dogs! No denying that fact.  But my 20+ year marriage is falling apart and I am thinking positively!  Missing my dogs…I’m a weepy mess.  Don’t I miss my husband? I think I should!  I mean, I think of him often and wonder how he is.  I call or txt or email him.  But I think of my puppies and I’m very sad.

I don’t know if this is normal!

Feeling kinda bad for my brother right now.  He is, I feel, about 3 years behind me in dealing with his feelings about mom.  Not because he is a boy. Not because he is 2 years younger than me (at my age that doesn’t really count).  It is because he has lived 2 hours away for the past 20+ years and has not had to come to terms with how horridly abusive and manipulative my mom can be.

As mentioned before, my mom threatened to kill herself last week.  I am done with her.  She is manipulative and this is her “go to” thing when something goes wrong.  Meanwhile it throws me, DH, my brother and the rest of our little family into a panic or emergency mode.  Well…it DID.  While I admit to having moments of panic, PTSD, anger and a whole slew of other emotions that day…they have not persisted.  I am rather calm about the whole thing and am very well aware that what is to be…will be…and I really have no control over it.  I can only control MY response to it.

So, other than the blog post, and the immediacy of the whole situation, I am feeling fairly sanguine about it.  Mom gonna do what mom gonna do.  I am not responsible for her and will not accept responsibility for her actions.  My brother is in complete agreement but his heart is having a hard time making peace with his head.  He is so angry!

Mom asked us if we can give her 600 dollars (599 to be exact) per month for living expenses so she can go to an assisted living place (American House).  Well, brother-dear and I have been down this road before.  Mom cannot really afford an assisted living home because she requires WAY too much care for it to be fiscally responsible.  She is as round as she is tall. She CANNOT weight bear any weight at all.  She has barely any upper body strength. She does not/cannot toilet herself.  All of this and she has insisted she is “independent” for eons.  Now she wants to go to an assisted lviing facility and just get us to pay an extra 600 dollars/month for incidentals (like diapers).  BALONEY!

My brother and I worked our tushes off a few years ago and mom didn’t have enough money, even if she had an extra 2K/month to be able to afford assisted living!

OK, I think I digress…So my brother is a bit angry, disillusioned, frustrated and sad about mom’s current state.  He did just say “I just wish mom could get to where she is happy and safe.”  But when she requested the extra 600/month I thought he was gonna lose it!  He did call her a couple days later.  He reminded her of a conversation we had last spring when she had asked “How can you help me?” and at that time we made it clear we cannot help her financially and would never be able to.  She told him she didn’t remember that conversation.  After they hung up she sent this text, “Don’t tell your kids how I died”  Oh YA!  And THAT was the straw that broke my brother’s back.  So, in other words, if we don’t give her the money she will kill herself and it is all our fault!  Big-giant-baloney-balls!

My poor brother is so upset and angry.  While I am like..ok, what’s next?  I know, for certain, the choices she makes are … totally … her own choices and I am not responsible for them.  My brother knows this as well but I think he doesn’t believe it as much as I do.  Makes me feel sad but I can’t do anything about that.  I just listen.  As I listened to him just last night I began to wonder…where has the guilt gone?  Sure I feel bad for mom but I really DON’T feel guilty about leaving her to her fate.  There is no sense of, “If only I had…” or “I should have done this and mom’s life would have been better”.  Those were all things I was saying to myself about 5 yrs ago.  I can say I don’t know if I am happy that I don’t feel this way anymore or if I feel a bit sad that I am even more jaded…

While I ruminated on my current status in life I came to the realization that I am living a really crappy country music song.

My dog died

I’m likely getting a divorce.

My mom is in the psyche ward threatening suicide.

On the up side? Nuttin’ wrong with my car!

Started to move my stuff out of the house last night.  DH stopped me, tearfully and with giant puppy-dog eyes, asked “but what’s next?”  He wondered if I would ever come home and see my dogs. Did I want to talk with him, ever? Aren’t we, at minimum, still friends?

The whole time I kept trying to keep my composure; I failed miserably, btw.

Of COURSE I want to see my dogs!  I am happy to come visit them.  I cannot take them with me. The women I am moving in with have two dogs at this time.  Also, even if I COULD take my dogs, does DH think I would do that to him?  As much as I miss them so would he!  I may be pissed, sad and frustrated but I am not heartless.

Do I want to talk with him? Just about every minute of every day!  We have been married over 20 years.  I am use to speaking with him.  I want to continue to.  IF we are to resolve our marriage (or dissolve it) we will need to speak.  Brutally honestly and with an understanding that brutal honesty can hurt but it doesn’t have to be cruel.  I told him we could have a weekly date night, I could come see the dogs after work and then he and I could go to dinner.  At this point he finally mentioned marriage counseling and he is willing to try.

Are we friends?  Actually the answer is yes.  Unfortunately the answer is yes.  We are, at least, friends.  While that is a good thing (I believe you SHOULD be friends with your spouse) it shouldn’t be limiting in the scope of your relationship.  DH and I are friends but we should have been more.  This was both of our responsibility.

Then he brings things around to his crux-concern.  “I want someone to grow old with and I don’t think you will be around because you smoke”  He believes that (and I can’t call him a liar or call bullshit on him) that due to lung or heart damage I will be living a shortened life.  This is petrifying to him.  OK.  I get it.  So I say…go ahead and find someone new b/c this isn’t his only issue (he isn’t attracted to overweight women) and I cannot see where he is gonna get much different out of me.

I sound so bitchy.  I hate that I sound so bitchy and selfish.  I mean, DH does love me and simply wants me to be around forever!  Is that too much to ask?  Can’t I change and be a different person so I can be around forever with him? See…bitchy!

I wanted to title this “Suicide is painless, but only for the brainless”

-or-

“Cry Suicide for daughter, son and family abound…”

-or-

Fuk ME! Mom is at it again with the suicide talks

While all those titles may grab you they also make make someone call 911 on ME!

My mom is at it again.  About 5 yrs ago I came into work and this message was on my voicemail, “I’m gonna kill your father and then myself.  It’s not your fault. I love you” from my mother.  Now she and I had/have a volatile relationship but I had not actually yelled at my mom in years.  I certainly did that day.  I called her up (yes…the mid-crisis suicidal woman answered) and screamed into the phone “WHAT THE FUK WAS THAT MOM?”  She stammered and cried a bit and I bit out that I was calling the cops. “Don’t do that!” cried mom.  That week and in the weeks following this event my world was turned upside down.  My brother and I got custody of my dad.  Mom got so angry she had a stroke.  Eventually dad died (this is the super-cliff-notes version) and mom toddled off to live “independently” in a senior apartment.

Ever since that time my brother and I have been trying to explain to mom that living independently does NOT include: inability to walk, inability to toilet one-self, inability to get up off the floor during weekly falls…You get the idea.

Yesterday morning mom received information she is going to be evicted from her apartment because the level of care she requires is above what they can provide.  Mom called my brother and left a tearful and brief message, “I won’t go to a nursing home. I WONT”

Rob let me know.  On the heels of that conversation I received a phone call from the company that supplies mom’s nursing aid help.  Seems mom had called them and cancelled all future assistance and they were concerned.  I kinda started getting a bit short of breath at that point.  Then I thought about it a few moments and tried to contact my mom but she didn’t answer.

Now I KNEW with absolute certainty that when mom was going to be forced into a situation she didn’t want to be forced into (like not being able to stay in her apartment anymore) she would “Cry Suicide”  I KNEW this would happen.  And yet, even knowing what mom was doing I was paralyzed.   All the sensations, feelings…all the EVERYTHING from the LAST time mom did this came crashing down on my shoulders.  It was like I couldn’t move.

I think my work-partner thought I was nuts.  But she is too so it’s all good.

Eventually, I thought to call the apartment building and speak w/their staff.  They informed me the company that supplies nursing aid assistance for mom called 911 because she was expressing suicidal idea-tion.

Throughout the day mom sent my brother text messages full of confusion and vitriol. She called me once and I just sent it to the trash.

I know I sound rather flippant.  I’m not.  And I don’t discount that my mom is unhappy.  I’m just done.  I cannot take anymore with mom.   I will not allow her to make me feel responsible for her crappy choices in life.  I am not responsible for her crappy choices in life.

I hate that the event yesterday caused me so much pain from almost a PTSD standpoint.

I love my mother but I cannot allow her to effect me anymore.

 

DH and I have 3 dogs.  We had to put our 12 y/o to sleep last night.  Nightmare was a wonderful dog.  He was so sweet and very intuitive of moods and feelings.  When someone was sick he would stick to that person like glue until they felt better.  He could be quite hyper but so gentle with the small and weak.

Ever notice how many euphemisms there are for an animal’s death?  “Put to sleep”  “cross the rainbow bridge”  Things like that.  They sound so much better and trip off the tongue so much easier than “My dog is dead”.  All the phrases mean, about, the same thing.  But it is true, so much easier to say…

Long and short though is I have lost a beloved friend.  DH has lost a beloved friend.  I can’t take bereavement time off work to just cry and bury my head in the sand.  While I know that it could be something taken advantage of by less than scrupulous people…for those of us who really are grieving the loss then it would be a kindness to be able to take a couple days out.

DH so grieved.  We have two other dogs, and they are wonderful/obnoxious and delightful, but Nightmare was his special dog.  My heart breaks for myself but also for Nightmare.

See you one day, my friend, at the Rainbow Bridge….

Another Saturday night… Alone.

DH is out with our friends. I sit at home. Alone

Oh he doesn’t”keep” me here…i keep me here. I’m welcome to come with him. But I feel awkward and uncomfortable… I don’t feel like I can breathe right when he and I are in social situations together. It is nothing he is doing to me intentionally. It’s something inside of me.

And so I sit here a different kind of miserable. I don’t know which is better. Either way I’m alone