Once Bitten…..

There is a scripture that talks about a child being able to put his hand in the den of asps and not be harmed.  This of course is Isaiah divining the peaceable kingdom to come.  I know we aren’t living in the time of peace and harmony so why do I still stick my hand out to be bit every time I talk to Mom?  She is convinced that I truly do not earn my keep, at least not the $12.33 an hour I’m supposed to work for her.  I’m working from home today and she’s already planned blood draw and then her social worker is coming over which will more than use up the allotted time I’m supposed to work per day to “earn my money”  but it’s not cleaning house, it’s not doing her laundry, it’s not feeding her birds, it’s not slaving for her.  She wants unconditional love, unconditional devotion, and unconditional willingness to be kicked in the gut when she needs someone to hurt as much as she does so she has the illusion of control and doesn’t feel alone.  Where I want to hurt myself in those situations she wants to hurt other people.

I know that, I’ve know that she’s angry and scared and is having problems adjusting to the inevitable.  I know this then why is it it hurts and tears at me when she says things like “Well, it’s not like you’re earning your money.  I could probably cut your hours back so K can work full time”.  I know she needs and wants to keep me on “the payroll” because she’s afraid that if I didn’t need my medical so desperately, I would quit her and leave her alone to die.  I think that’s what she has always expected her whole life, that she would die alone because her family doesn’t love her, that she is unlovable.  She’s convinced herself her parents and siblings hated her, and if even half of what she has told me is true, it is probably the root cause of all this, her husbands have abused her, cheated on her (or so her expanding memory keeps telling her), her grandkids (except for one) hate her and she doesn’t know why, I’m only here for the money and benefits.  I can’t seem to change her mind on that.

The bright side to all of this is the medications are working.  I know they are because I’m not ranting about her, knowing that if I keep going on and on about how I do my job would send me into an emotional maelstrom and I would dwell on it for hours if not days.  I might still pick it up from time to try to figure out what do but I’m able to divert my thoughts when I realize I’m starting to spin before I’m out of control.  Amazing what happens when you take your pills every day.

The angry person that I am wants to tell her what she can do with her $12.33 and comprehensive benefits and put them somewhere the sun doesn’t shine.  But honestly I couldn’t afford to pay for COBRA and also lose the pittance of a paycheck that I get from my second job.  Heaven knows I’m not able to afford everything else with my first job.  Pushing the anger aside I’ve been able to think clearly enough and realize that going without medical is no longer an option in the US, and ways have been provided to help those of us who can’t make their ends meet.  So, what this means to me is that I don’t have to work for her any more, I can be her daughter, do what I am emotionally and physically able to do for her and take back the control I need for my own sanity.  I know, I know, control is an illusion, no one has control.  Despite that, I need to protect myself as much as possible as she starts to deal with her own end-of-life issues I want to be there with her and I want to help her and prepare her but not at the expense of my own sanity.  If anyone is going to drive me over the crazy cliff it will be me.  I am the mistress of my own fate.

So this gives me a whole new list of things to do:

  1. Contact Covered California for help in figuring out the system (done)
  2. Get the cost of COBRA
  3. Sign up for VHP but not on Medi-Cal.
    • Medi-Cal patients are treated differently than VHP participants.
  4. Assign my hours over to K and then quit my job as Mom’s “caregiver” and then start taking care of her as her daughter.

I doubt she’ll stop trying to hurt me, but at least she might have to think twice because I’m not getting paid to be her personal walking and talking Damnit Doll.

Little Miss Cranky Pants

Mom is happily watching her 49ers play while I’m tucked inside the “cooling room”, the only room in the house where I can  bring the temperature down to a livable level for me…like in the mid 60s.  With headphones and a stockpile of cookies you’d think I’d be a happy camper, but no.  I’m irritated, my eyes want to pull down the lids and block out the world.  I’ve only taken my puppy upper pills this morning but that’s about it.  I need to change that so I don’t miss them any more.  I can be such an idiot sometimes.  I know better, I’ve seen the difference in myself between medicated and non medicated, the world knows the difference when I’m medicated or not medicated.  And yet I let these slips happen.  I’m such an idiot.

I want to just hide away in my room, in my bed where it’s safe.  And I would too, if my mother could take care of herself in the least.  She likes having a lady-in-waiting.  It fulfills her imagined royal imagining that she is of royal blood, the she was ripped from the courts of the refined and noble world and put into the mire with the rest of us peasants.  I’m not kidding.  It’s put more sarcastically than I probably should state, but since I discovered that we really are related to the Plantagenet kings of England it has amplified her delusions of royalty.  I haven’t researched the bloodline but I’m sure we’re there by way of a Fitz-Something*.

Okay, I know, cranky.  If I had the patience I’d try to write this out in my journal, or if I had the energy I’d try to get some work done or my beads put together.  I’ve decided that when I can sit and do 100 Om Mani Padme Hum’s in one sitting with beads interspersed for deep breaths then I will have the discipline to move into a more focused, or Zen like mediation.  That is a worthy thing to do, especially for the Sabbath, but F it, I think I’ll take a nap instead.

The Two Faces of Narcissism

We all know the basic truth of narcissism, the I Me Mine syndrome.  Yet, I’ve learned (Okay from a rather dubious source) there is another side of the big N.  The ever pressing need for approval and being liked.  Sound familiar??  I’ve worked hard for people’s approval, their laughter, their acceptance and then, thanks to my lack of trust issues, I don’t believe it when they approve of me, laugh with me or accept me.  Am I the antithesis of my mother?  It seems logical if you live with a sucking black hole of need for most of your entire life (pathetic, I know), you’re going to be continually pulled on by their gravitational yearning for fulfillment.  They never being able to be filled by your continual homage you rip from your soul to feed them builds the questions: Why aren’t I good enough?  C is.  S is getting there, but it seems like I will never be.  That’s not Mom’s fault.  That’s all mine.  I need to fill my own needs, balancing the I Me Mine syndrome with this self debasing, self-sacrificing (not in a good way) need to gain love, approval and attention.  I don’t need to step into the spotlight, but I don’t need to be the guy in the little alcove feeding lines and direction to the stars on stage either. 

How is this going to help me in the end?  How is this going to help me with my writing, other than the brutal honesty of just writing it?  I dunno.  It just struck me odd when I heard the second definition of narcissism on TV last night that it was me, I am a narcissist, just not a sucking void but a spewing void….a white hole, I believe is what they’re called in astrophysical circles.

This is something I’m going to have to discuss with Connie when I get my sessions back up and running now that I’m at work.  I don’t want to be a narcissist.  It’s a poisonous life to live.  It’s like poison oak, it’s pretty when you come across it the first time, but as you make friends with it you find out it completely contaminates everything you own, everything you are, and nothing short of peeling off your skin will make the pain stop.    I’m going to have to spend time with my journal on this as well….how can I stop it, how can I heal and how can I move forward are topics that need to be addressed.  Hopefully I’ll be able to make time for that sometime soon.

Step By Step, Inch By Inch

I’m putting my goals up for this week so I will be accountable.  They might seem like small steps to the rest of the world, but I need the baby steps for now.

Intellectual – Reading Homecoming by Bradshaw

Work – Edit 300 lines a day and print up pink copies as I complete a chapter

Social – Do my visiting teaching

Physical – Work out on treadmills and elliptical 4x this week

Emotional – Write 3x in BFTV and 1 in PS, 1-2 journal entries

Diet – Eat more fruit

I’ll check in from time to time to update how this is going.  Wish me success.

Next Newer Entries