My Assignment.

Radioactive, cancer causing filth.

 

So, my assignment, given to me by E, is to think.  REALLY think.  Take some time to myself and consider this whole thing.  What do I really, TRULY want.

The first step, and the assignment that she has blessed me with is this: “Think about your mother.  Think about the things that she has said to you, not in your childhood, but in your adult life, and think about how they have made you feel.”

That was Wednesday.  Today is Friday.  I’m in a pissy mood.  I think it’s because I’ve been thinking.  haha.   Therapy is very hard work.

The last words that my mother spoke to me were these very words:  “I don’t give one fat shit about what you have to say about Big Mike.”  

Before that: “Let me see your kiln.   I want to see your kiln.  Let me see it. Let me see it.  I want to see your studio.  WHY NOT?  Why not?  NO??  WELL!”

And now, I will explain.  Big Mike is our best friend, who is in ailing health, and had a health problem that was IDENTICAL to one that my father had.  We adore Big Mike, love him so much.  We call him dad.  Anyhow.   When Big Mike ends up in the hospital, I stay with him.  So…I explained to my mom what had happened to Big Mike when he was in the very same situation.  And she responded with: “I don’t give a  fat shit what happened to Big Mike.”

I’m an artist.  That’s how I make my living.   We are poor, but we are happy and content.  I even have a studio, and it is known to everyone that it is a disaster area.  I don’t let anyone into my studio, except my husband and children.  It is my sacred place, the place where I truly find solitude, and where I connect with my precious GG.  My GG’s vintage, uncut glass lives in that studio.  My mother is not allowed near it.  PERIOD.   I don’t WANT Polly in my studio.  It’s a mess.  And, as with many mothers, the cleanliness and tidyness of one’s home is a direct reflection on their character.  So, I said…”NO” you may not enter my studio.  She has no interest in my art.  She just wanted to see my messy studio.   And judge it, just as she judged my GG’s dusty house. 

E asked me if I plan to be at their deathbeds.  My parent’s deathbeds.  I don’t know.  I just don’t know.  I do know that I will not care for them in their old age.  I nearly fell on the floor when E told me that I don’t HAVE to.  I have CHOICES.  I continuously forget that I have choices.  I am NEVER backed into a corner. Ever.  They are MY OWN decisions, and can be made without reserve or explanation.

She also asked me if I have ever gotten into a knock-down, bare-all screaming match with either of my parents.  I have not.  I don’t yell, not at anyone.  My mother was a maniac screamer for as long as I can remember.  And her screaming hurt worse than the times that she knocked me up against the bathroom wall.

So, no, I don’t scream and yell. 

The next component to this decision, this decision to cut all ties with my family, is the fact that my parents are making a relationship with me dependent upon a relationship with my sister, who scares the shit out of me. Who threw my daughter in a river.  I was later expected to forgive and forget all of that because she’s Bipolar.  HUH?   I will NEVER have a relationship with my sister, I will NEVER forgive her for hurting my daughter, and me, and, if that’s the case…seeya.

Well, Hello.

Uhm, actually, you don't love me. So...zero?

I had actually never heard of this book,  until I had children of my own.  And even then, it was difficult for me to read this book to them. 

I think it’s because  I just don’t envision myself being involved in my own family’s circle of life. 

I can only hope that I’m raising my own children so that they don’t feel the same about me in my golden (why the hell do they call it “golden”) years. 

In other news:  I’m really kind of proud of myself for keeping my weight under control this winter.  Historically, I gain about 30lbs every winter, then diet in, say, March…and lose it all by May.  Not healthy.

But, thanks to Wellbutrin and Therapy, it seem that I’m not turing to food in my boredom.  Not smoking much, either.

I’m dyyyyyyyying of cabin fever, however.  I have *zero* energy.  I could sleep all day long.  Everything I do feels like a big effort.  I’m just absolutely exhausted.  From doing NOTHING. 

There’s a dead goose in my yard.  But it’s on some frozen ice.  I can’t do a thing about it.  The ice is too thin.  Bums me right out.

I sent M a “Friend request” on Facebook last week.  Nothing. 

I need to go.

Today is Just Today.

I find it interesting that, in order for me to grow, I have to prune some of my branches.  The far reaching ones, which are taking my life spirit away.  I need to pull a bit more into my core, and fortify my Soul with nourishment that these far reaching, and disorderly branches are stealing from me.

At that point, I will truly be able to grow. 

But I have to cut them myself.  And that will not be an easy task, for, as malicious and toxic these branches have become to me, they are still a part of me.  A part that has been with me since I was a tiny little twig.

___

OK, enough metaphors.

___

My hubby and I are in deep financial trouble.  Thank goodness we’ve never put a penny on a credit card, but we’re still in trouble.  He has suffered a permanent layoff.  We’re supporting ourselves with our art and his unemployment, and it is not enough.  Our house payment is behind.  Etc, and so on.  I’m worried and scared. 

I’m going to “what if” this, until it’s gone.  I “what if” my problems, and, at the end of every single “what if” is my beautiful husband and me.  And that’s all that I really need to know.

I’m doing the best that I can.

coexist.

..with the tools that I have.  A perfect Human Being, I am not.  But, I’m a damned good wife, mom, friend, and hell, I am even a kind stranger.

So, this brings me to some thoughts on forgiveness, and my upcoming exile from my parents/sister.

I have to realize that they are NOT doing the best that they can with the tools that they have.

My mother, who is kind to my sister, kind to my kids, my husband,is unkind to ME.  This tells me that:

a.  She just doesn’t like me (and I’m cool with that)

b. She is an unkind person

c. She doesn’t really give a fuck if we have a relationship.

d. Since this has been her pattern of behavior for such a long time, this will not change.

ALL OF THE ABOVE.

My dad and I used to be close.  I’ve lost alot of respect for him after seeing the way(s) that he treated my family (and me) when we lost my GG.  I am certain that I’ll have no say in how they are taken care of in their golden years.   And, I’m glad that I won’t have to make that decision, because I’d put the two of them in the piss-smelling dog kennel nursing home that they tried to put my GG in.  And, I couldn’t live with myself.  Bigtime confusion in my head about that scenario.  So, I’m relieved that I won’t have to make that type of moral decision.

If I ever hear him utter the word “nigger” or “faggot” or call me “tub-tub” or any of the other great nicknames that I’ve fallen victim to over the years, it will be too soon.  When I’ve gone to my father, asking him to understand that my mom is CRUEL…he just comes back with “THAT’S MY WIFE YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT THERE!”  (huh?)  So, I’m not missing much there, either.

We stood at my friend “T”s bedside and watched him die.  My husband, “T’s” dad, and 2 other friends.  He died of AIDS.  We loved him.  When I told my dad about this, he said: “WELLLLLLLLLLLL…..you KNEW and HE KNEW that’s WHAT HAPPENS TO PEOPLE LIKE HIMMMMMMMMMM”

*sigh*

Anyhow.   I will not teach my children to hate or judge the people who are my FRIENDS.

I won’t allow my children to see me cry after my parents leave my home, because they said such embarassing things while they were here.

I won’t allow my children to watch me be abused by “The Kelly and Polly Show”

I won’t allow my children to hear the word “nigger” come from their grandfather and granmother’s mouths. 

I won’t allow my own health to suffer, and Iwon’t steal ONE more minute from my husband and children, worrying about what the fuck my PARENTS might think about decisions I’ve made.

We are trying desperately to save our home from foreclosure.  My husband is laid off.  We have 4 kids.  We are broke.

This Friday, I will be getting food from the Food Bank.  And personal needs items such as shampoo, tampons, soap, and toilet paper.  We had to apply, and were given, food stamps.

And, if my parents knew this…they would disown me.  They would be disgusted. 

But, you see, I *am* doing the best that I can with the tools that I’ve got.  Today, I spent the entire day, alone, with my 14 year old daughter, making beads in my studio.  Talking, listening to CD’s, and LISTENING to her.  Telling her how goddamned awesome and perfect and beautiful and artistic and talented she is.

So, D, P, and K…

you could have done so much better.  You had sooo many chances.

And now, I’m done with you.

Random.

Be Good To Your Daughters.

Fathers, be good to your daughters,

For they will love like you do.

And daughters become lovers,

Who turn into Mothers,

So, Mothers, be good to your daughters, too.

-John Mayer

 

Update.

I had such a fantastic birthday. Hubby and the kids somehow figured out how to make a cake. ( GOD I LOVE CAKE!) Also, I gave each of the kids a Target gift card, and Kev took them shopping.  My son bought me a Billy Mays Super Slider Station (hahaha), and my daughter got me a Kid Rock CD.  We had pizza and cake and Cokes and pigged out, and cranked up the CD and danced all around the house.  The kids and the dog were going insane, and I was in heaven.  It’s the best birthday I have had in YEARS.  “E” told me that *I* am responsible to see to it that all of the rest of my birthdays are fantastic.

Kevin got me an entire lampwork bead setup that someone was selling on Craigslist.  Torch, tanks, rods,mandrels, all the tools, a book, everything I need to start making handmade beads on a torch.  I’m sooo excited.  She sold her whole studio, basically, just didn’t want it anymore, and Kevin talked her down from $250.00 to $80.00.  The prices are still on much of these things, and I can tell you for sure that this setup is worth around $600.00.  Unreal!

Yesterday’s session with “E” was lighthearted and chatty. The first session where  I didn’t cry.   The previous one, she really raked me over the coals and really made me work hard, so I think she gave me a little break.  I mentioned this to her,  and she told me:  “Be ready to work next week”…so I’m bracing myself.  She seemed really happy that we’ve finally made a breakthrough.  I thwarted off a panic attack while I was writing my letter, and ”E” said: “you know, you can do that wherever and whenever you want”. She has an uncanny way of pointing out the obvious.  She told me that when I first came upon her, I had no idea that I had so many choices.  I was, indeed, feeling backed into a corner, hence, panic attacks.

She  asked me, a year from now, when I’m a whole year stronger, what would that be like…and how exciting that is to even imagine!

With this enormous weight lifted from me, I know I have the strength now to carry on and become independent of my Toxic Family.  I was falling back on the death of my grandmother, and not realizing that her death had nothing to do with the majority of my sadness. Her Death was the easiest thing to blame. I miss her tremendously, but she doesn’t represent anything bad in my life.  She was a shining star, she was the source of much of my joy. 

Today, I have the day to mySELF.  So, I’m going to look up some lampworking tutorials, and do some fusing, make a big, warm dinner for my family, and count each and every one of my blessings.

Beginning with ME.

Wednesday.

meds.

I have another busy day ahead of me today.   I have to figure out how we’re going to get through these winter months without starving, and without losing our house.  Michigan sucks.  It’s supposed to be -20 degrees today (wind chill).  There are NO jobs here, so we’re counting on our art to see us through ’till summertime, when we can get out to all of the festivals and galleries, etc.

Till then, my anxiety is at max.  My teenage daughter is being a teenage daughter (she’s uttered approx 10 words to me in the past week), I have cabin fever….

Good news, however.  Since I had a long talk w/my Grams, and let her go, and asked her for strength, the Universe delivered.  I do feel as though I can get myself through all this.   One thing at a time.  Just one thing at a time.

And now, I’m going to go to my studio, put a good CD in my player, and make something beautiful.

Today is my birthday.

Happy birthday to moi.

So, I was born 42 years ago, on this day.

I have much to be joyful for on this day.

I’m here,  I am healthy, I am a mother to 2 Human Beings.

And, although there is sadness in my soul,

I will NOT succcumb to it on this day.

On this day, I shall celebrate, if nothing else,

The fact that I am worthy enough to have this life

These children

My husband

and

soon

Peace.

The wound heals.

So,  believe it or not, I feel some relief. 

E, my therapist, and I decided that I needed to actually “DO” something, as I am a reality-based Human Being.  And, I’m drawing alot of strength right now from the Universe. Ask and you shall receive.  And I have been BEGGING.

This grief, or, maybe I should say, THAT grief, was a habit.  It was a representation NOT of my GG, but of everything that frustrates or saddens me.  Autism, my abusive parents, my abusive sister, being a stepmom, my husband’s layoff, my bleeding ulcer, the God damned shingles, alienation from my family, the daughter that I gave up for adoption 19 years ago, who wants nothing to do with me, my husband’s previous wife’s suicide. The 8 years that I spent in the Burn Unit, scrubbing patients while they screamed in agony, trying to put myself through nursing school.  And failing.  My neverending battle with my weight.  The “big butt” comments that my father drummed into my head through my adolescence. 

My GG had absolutely nothing to do with that shit.  She was my go-to girl.  Her little, warm, dusty house was the place I went to discover her newest little treasure that she found at a flea market, that she would lovingly return to it’s original beauty.  To go out to fancy dinners, and wake up to fancy orange juice that she made in the blender,  so that it had foam on the top.  Her magical back  yard and her HORRIBLE driving.  ha.To play for hours with the Spirograph.  And every scribbly damn picture that I made, she would squeal in delight. 

I can’t associate her Spirit with the shit that haunts me.  I have let her go.  And as she says, “put it out of your head”.  I’ll now take the sorrowful feelings that I have for my GG’s ascent into the Universe with joyful feelings of gratitude. 

And, I’m going to toughen up.  I’ve been pulled through a knothole backwards.  One by one, I’m going to tackle and eliminate and make sense of all the trauma that I’ve endured in the past 40 years.  I will excuse the abusers from my life, and I will learn to set the visions that haunt me on a shelf.

And I will continue to shield my children from this disasterous, toxic, foul, vomit.

Today is the Last Day of This.

My eyes hurt so bad.

So, I’ve spent the last 24 hours crying.  Sobbing.  Grieving.  Today marks the 3rd anniversary of the death of my GG.

Last night, I completely broke down in my therapist’s office.  Begging for this to STOP.

So, today, I’m going to say goodbye.  I’ll no longer protest her death.  I’m just going to accept it.  When sadness begins to envelop me again, I’m going to replace that thought with a joyous memory.

My house is on a river, and, coincidentally, that river runs right past the cemetary where my GG is laid to rest.  Today, I’m going to write her a letter.  And I’m going to finally say goodbye to her. She and I are going to be set free.

Grief is not a representation of my GG.  It’s a cancerous monster that is destroying me.  It’s given me, in the last 2 years, depression, anxiety, hypertension, a bleeding ulcer, and shingles.  No shit.  If I don’t let go of this grief, it’s going to kill me.  I will die of a broken heart.

And I will not do that.  That’s not anything that she would want from me.  So, today, She and I are going to go ahead and do this.

It’s a sunny, bright, wintery day with a new blanket of snow on the ground, and little chunks of ice floating in the river.

It’s a beautiful day, and it’s The Last Day of This.