RealMental

My anxiety levels peaked about an hour before the time to be there and I panicked as I searched for something to wear, making myself late as usual.

Walking into the church late, you were already in the process of getting married.

I began to cry watching you up there exchanging your vows,  looking so beautiful.  Soon I noticed that you were trembling severely.  I recalled my wedding day and how nervous I was, crying through the whole ceremony.

Your entire body was rocking like you were being electrocuted, and I felt scared for you wondering what could be wrong.

As you walked down the aisle, as a newly married woman you said “don’t hug me, my ribs are broken”.  I knew as soon as you said that, why your ribs were broken.  Your engagement party was the weekend before.  You got drunk and you fell down.  Then I noticed the huge bruise on your forearm that you’d tried to cover up with makeup concealer.

I wasn’t there, I didn’t have to be.  As quickly as you told me, I knew.  My heart fell, knowing that nothing has changed and you are still looking for the answer in a bottle of vodka and drowning.  Trying to kill yourself quietly so you aren’t a burden on anyone.

It seems like a lifetime ago when I was the one drowning.  You took care of me, helped me when I couldn’t walk and talk.  You risked your life being a passenger in my car, driving with a person drunk and stoned out of her mind.

We’re sisters, you and I.  Only eight days apart in age, we’ve grown up together.  Our bond is one that will never be broken, no matter our physical distance.

Watching you in so much pain was unbearable for me knowing that I could do nothing to ease it for you, the day of your wedding.

You’d waited an entire week to go to a Doctor because you didn’t think insurance would cover it.  You’ve held pain in for you whole life.  Stubborn, strong willed, never living for yourself, never honoring your true spirit.

We’ve grown apart, mainly due to life events on both of our parts.  I miss you, and I know you are hiding from me.  Knowing that I will see the truth and feel your discontent.  My concern is almost unbearable for you to see.

You are slipping through my hands, and all I can do is love you as I watch you go.  Watch you dig in deeper to the life you know isn’t yours.  I’ll always be here, you can count on that.

The darkness decided to come for a visit.  That same cold and lonely darkness that I’m so familiar with, it’s that unwanted family member.  My first thought is if I’ve remembered to take the Effexor and Thyroid Medicine. Yes, I have. The thyroid medicine is not a synthetic drug but makes me very sick if I forget to take it.

The day is spent wondering why about everything.  Why did that man just look at me like that? What does that phone call “really” mean? Why haven’t I been able to solve this problem? Why does it hurt sometimes so much that I can barely breath?

Why, why, why, why?

Due to this being a familiar experience, I regrettably have to note that there is some small amount of comfort in this unwelcome visitor.

Chemically, I’ve done my part with the medicine. Spiritually I’ve done my part. I am not hungry, angry, lonely or tired. Well, maybe I am actually tired. Yes, my sleep patterns have been off and I’m having a very hard time establishing a healthier routine.

A healthier routine is the answer for a lot of things, and I know without any doubt that when I am actively participating in a healthy routine I FEEL GOOD. Not “too” good, just balanced and healthy. Yet, as a human I’m apt to jump off that wheel and ruin all that feel good stuff.

Do other people that do not have mental issues and addictions have to work so hard at staying in the middle of the road? I always wonder about people that don’t suffer from the “crazy”.  Do they question why getting up, taking a shower and feeding ourselves is considered a victory for us on some days?

Some days it just comes. It isn’t because I am bad, wrong, stupid, overweight and ugly.

Some days it just comes.

Maybe if I don’t feed it or clothe it, like I’ve done in the past, it won’t stay too long.

Shortly after my two older sisters came in from their day journey, it dawned on me that the three daughters and one mother were all in the same house together. It’s not a typical situation, us all being under one roof. Depending on any of our moods, you never know what could happen with all of us together in the same place.

We aren’t the easiest bunch to understand or to deal with, and no one would ever mistake us for a  “safe WASP family.” We argue, we annoy, we fight. We say horrible things to each other, then we kiss and make up. It isn’t always that quick, sometimes months go by before feuding parties speak. We’re better than we used to be.

Despite the reason for us all being there (not a celebration, one of us has become very, very sick), I felt a genuine family tie to these women. These are MY wolves, I love them and together we could probably conquer anything. I love my sisters and my mother deeply.  It isn’t often I feel that kind of raw power and strength.

We’ve been through some really hard times but in that very moment, I love each one of them most of all. They are my roots, we are the same. As we rally around in times of crisis, we forget the petty bullshit arguments that we usually poke each other with.

Having us all together like that can sometimes turn into a dog fight, each dog trying to fight their way to the alpha position with lots of gnawing and gnashing of teeth with threatening growls. We aren’t always together, mainly because one of us lives elsewhere, one of us is drowning in a life of pure chaos, and one spends a lot of time taking care of our mother.

Our mother is the mainstay. She’s always there, sitting in her chair surrounded by her “things”. Empty toilet paper rolls, empty plastic bags, endless mail waiting to be read and coupons ready to be clipped. Her ashtray, her cigarettes, her coffee, our dead dad’s shoes. Everything right within her reach, to guarantee she won’t have to put much effort in retrieving something she might need. She is an agoraphobic hoarder that chain smokes in her house.

If you are visiting, she’ll often put you work fetching her stuff. She can tell you in minute detail exactly where everything is and where to find it. I assume this from years of having our dad retrieve things for her. I often wonder how that man survived all those years with four very strong and sassy women.

I like to believe he’s with us, sometimes I wish more than anything that he was still physically with us. We probably drove that man to his death with all our crazy combined. He loved us, each and every one of us and he was patient and kind and loving and he was exactly where he wanted to be. With us.

It’s good for me to have a moment like this, to realize that despite the dangers of hanging around with wolves, I love them all deeply. They are my pack. It’s up to me to not stay too long after the carcass has been eaten.

Some time over the holidays, I unlocked another box in my psyche. I like to think this process helps me move forward.

Holidays are usually a big mess for a lot of people from an emotional perspective.  I was relieved when i realized that others suffered with the holiday blues like I’d done for many years.  A problem shared is easier to process then a problem kept in solitaire.

A situation came up that involved travel plans, one that would change the dates of visitors from out of town.  I was not pleased especially with the short notice.  I struggled with it, making my partner aware of my displeasure in the most diplomatic way that I could.

Having a few days to process, I tried to figure out why this was a problem for me.  I phoned a friend who suggested that I just suck it up and ride it out.  I responded to her that I was so tired of sucking it up and riding it out, REALLY tired of that.  I wasn’t angry with her about it, and I did call her because she has personal insight into the situation and she doesn’t sugar coat stuff.

Shortly after that call, it dawned on me what my opposition was really about.

There are so many situations in my life right now that I have absolutely zero control over (beyond typical issues).  I realized that I am trying to grasp for something I can actually control however small it is.  As a recovering person, I learned that I am powerless over most situations, which isn’t to say that I do nothing with my problems.  We do what we can, but sometimes there is no action to take.  And, worrying about it over and over only serves to enslave us to the problem.  It’s no easy feet, this acceptance for what is and taking my hands off the wheel.   I have to tell you that this actually works pretty well, when I am able to pick it up and use it.

I know I am not alone in this desire to have some form of control in *some* way.  People  do the craziest things in order to cling to some sliver of control.  This is why people develop eating disorders, addiction, compulsive gambling, self harm, and in many cases behaving like the child within that most emulates the loss of power at any particular time in the formative years.

I guess the key to receiving an insight, is what I actually do with it.  My aim is to try and find the balance.  Don’t go too far to the left or too far to the right, try and find the just right spot for it.