I'll be a writing a much longer blog tomorrow. But I wanted to take the time to say that I am so very, very, very lucky to have the friends I do. To have found people that are so loving and accepting. I went to my friend Julia's father's house for Christmas. They gave me a violin.
Yeah, a violin.
I had been mentioning that I wanted to buy a fiddle for awhile and apparently Julia's stepmother had her old violin lying around collecting dust so they refurbished it and gave it to me for Christmas.
I can not possibly describe how incredibly astounded I was to be invited into a family and for them to love and accept me. It's more than a little amazing.
Also... I talked to my parents for the first time in about 6 months. I talked to my dad and the sound of his voice nearly brought me to tears. I miss our late night chats sitting on the island in the middle of the kitchen staring out the glass doors to the porch. I will continue to repair our relationship and miss and love him.
As for my mother. I am beginning to understand what kind of relationship we will have from now on. I will carry the love that one has for their mother for bringing them into this world. But, I will have to close myself to most of what she says. Our conversations can not be deep, our opinions not shared and no advice will be sought or given. You can not help someone that doesn't want it. She believes that she is not mentally ill while everyone knows it. That's fine. The countless concerned voices that have tried to permeate her brain, haven't. I still believe that she is a danger to herself and others. But at least she has found some sort of solace in the Catholic Church. I will not allow her to talk to me about her religion just like I would never mention my beliefs to her. My mother has given me all that she could give me and for that I will be forever grateful. While I will always carry old wounds and scars from her words, her actions, I now understand that I will never get closure for them. She doesn't understand what she has done, what she still does. I have to train myself to understand and cut her off before the poison leaves her lips.
She says that she has forgiven me. For what, I'm not sure.
All I can say in return is that I will try and forgive the things she was not conscious of. I don't know if I'll be able to forgive her for the things that were premeditated and intentionally designed to hurt me but I will try. I will not carry this weight around any longer. I will call home with the intent of talking to my father and will lightly chat with my mother. If the conversation begins to take on a personal tone, I will end it. I will no longer feel guilty for feeling this way. I will no longer allow any of the her sharp words wound me.
Ever.
This is how it is for me. This is how I see it. This is how I feel. I'll continue picking out the shrapnel and let the shards fall where they may. They're not mine to carry any longer.
I am loved. I am worth the love. That is all I need. I will not live in the past and I will not let my past hurts bleed into the present. There is nothing more I can do about them besides deal with the feelings they've left behind and once I've done that I can truly move on. It will take time. It will take practice. It will take all of my concentration, and I will do it. I want to live. I don't just want to be recovering anymore. Instead, you'll find me disciplining myself to follow through with my ideas. To stop that vile little voice that slithers through my brain, strangling my self confidence. I don't want to believe that the rabbit hole is a bad place anymore. I want to believe that it can be amazing if harnessed. I won't believe that the place my mind wanders to is a place of pain. Instead, the vile voice will be my Jaberwocky to conquer while I will relish in the madness that is my brain. When my mood drops I will write out why. Why I am feeling that way and examine it. Read it out loud so the logical side of my brain speaks up and is all: "Bitch, those are all false statements and toxins left over from old hurts. Your brain is not firing in a positive way at the moment but it will pass. Sit your ass down and write or play your fiddle or guitar. You will be ok."
And I will be. I am not crazy, I am not insane, I am not limited in anyway. I am wired differently and I am ok with that. That just means I'll see things certain things from different perspectives and interperet things a bit differently.
But don't we all?
Mine views may be more extreme but I will harnass that. My brain may be in disarray but perhaps that could be an advantage. I am aware of the misfires which leads me to believe that I will overcome them; they will not overcome me.
1 comments:
something more than ordinary said...
I think your doing the right thing in regards to your mother. It sounds like a hard thing you will have to do. The right things often are. I hope it goes well.
Yeah, a violin.
I had been mentioning that I wanted to buy a fiddle for awhile and apparently Julia's stepmother had her old violin lying around collecting dust so they refurbished it and gave it to me for Christmas.
I can not possibly describe how incredibly astounded I was to be invited into a family and for them to love and accept me. It's more than a little amazing.
Also... I talked to my parents for the first time in about 6 months. I talked to my dad and the sound of his voice nearly brought me to tears. I miss our late night chats sitting on the island in the middle of the kitchen staring out the glass doors to the porch. I will continue to repair our relationship and miss and love him.
As for my mother. I am beginning to understand what kind of relationship we will have from now on. I will carry the love that one has for their mother for bringing them into this world. But, I will have to close myself to most of what she says. Our conversations can not be deep, our opinions not shared and no advice will be sought or given. You can not help someone that doesn't want it. She believes that she is not mentally ill while everyone knows it. That's fine. The countless concerned voices that have tried to permeate her brain, haven't. I still believe that she is a danger to herself and others. But at least she has found some sort of solace in the Catholic Church. I will not allow her to talk to me about her religion just like I would never mention my beliefs to her. My mother has given me all that she could give me and for that I will be forever grateful. While I will always carry old wounds and scars from her words, her actions, I now understand that I will never get closure for them. She doesn't understand what she has done, what she still does. I have to train myself to understand and cut her off before the poison leaves her lips.
She says that she has forgiven me. For what, I'm not sure.
All I can say in return is that I will try and forgive the things she was not conscious of. I don't know if I'll be able to forgive her for the things that were premeditated and intentionally designed to hurt me but I will try. I will not carry this weight around any longer. I will call home with the intent of talking to my father and will lightly chat with my mother. If the conversation begins to take on a personal tone, I will end it. I will no longer feel guilty for feeling this way. I will no longer allow any of the her sharp words wound me.
Ever.
This is how it is for me. This is how I see it. This is how I feel. I'll continue picking out the shrapnel and let the shards fall where they may. They're not mine to carry any longer.
I am loved. I am worth the love. That is all I need. I will not live in the past and I will not let my past hurts bleed into the present. There is nothing more I can do about them besides deal with the feelings they've left behind and once I've done that I can truly move on. It will take time. It will take practice. It will take all of my concentration, and I will do it. I want to live. I don't just want to be recovering anymore. Instead, you'll find me disciplining myself to follow through with my ideas. To stop that vile little voice that slithers through my brain, strangling my self confidence. I don't want to believe that the rabbit hole is a bad place anymore. I want to believe that it can be amazing if harnessed. I won't believe that the place my mind wanders to is a place of pain. Instead, the vile voice will be my Jaberwocky to conquer while I will relish in the madness that is my brain. When my mood drops I will write out why. Why I am feeling that way and examine it. Read it out loud so the logical side of my brain speaks up and is all: "Bitch, those are all false statements and toxins left over from old hurts. Your brain is not firing in a positive way at the moment but it will pass. Sit your ass down and write or play your fiddle or guitar. You will be ok."
And I will be. I am not crazy, I am not insane, I am not limited in anyway. I am wired differently and I am ok with that. That just means I'll see things certain things from different perspectives and interperet things a bit differently.
But don't we all?
Mine views may be more extreme but I will harnass that. My brain may be in disarray but perhaps that could be an advantage. I am aware of the misfires which leads me to believe that I will overcome them; they will not overcome me.
1 comments:
something more than ordinary said...
I think your doing the right thing in regards to your mother. It sounds like a hard thing you will have to do. The right things often are. I hope it goes well.
No comments:
Post a Comment