I went to therapy for the first time in several months today. I told my therapist that I was so happy. Life isn't perfect, and there are major challenges that still exist in my life. But in spite of all of that, I still felt happy generally. A major source of my happiness was my mother's sobriety. She has been sober for almost 2 years now. I told my therapist that I was just beginning to trust her sobriety. That I was really proud of my mom and that she has changed so much, that her change has inspired me to change and lead a better life. I said that although I don't know how long the sobriety would last, and that I did initially feel some anger towards her after she got clean, mostly I was just grateful. Grateful that she was happier than I had ever seen her, and that she had survived her addiction. I was just so grateful that her addiction did not kill her. I was just grateful that her addiction did not kill our family, that we survived it. I said that I knew that my family wasn't perfect, because I am not, and that there will always be problems, but I felt more confident about my ability to accept our limitations, live with them, and love each other regardless. But mostly I was just so happy about this new found relationship I felt was growing between me and my mom. I was happy that her addiction and dysfunction was no longer a stresser in my life. I felt so happy to be free of it, the stress and the worry. So happy to be free of the worry of whether she was going to call me drunk and high today, or remember our conversation yesterday or whatever.
And I have told her consistently since she got clean, what her sobriety has meant to me, and how proud I am of her etc. I told her how stressful and difficult her addiction has been for me, and how it has impacted my life. At first she was very defensive during these conversations, but eventually she was able to listen and she has said more than once that she is sorry for hurting me, and that she felt really bad about it, and really guilty. I told her that I forgave her and that I didn't want her to feel guilty. I told her that I just wanted her to be healthy and ok. I said that we have to accept our past and look forward to our future so that we can move on and build something better together.
So, for the last almost two years, I was beginning to be happy about my mom's sobriety, but I tried not to enjoy it too much. Tried not to trust it or like it, because I didn't know how long that it was going to stick around, and I wasn't used to what it was like. You know how you almost prefer experiencing the crap that you are used to, then to embrace the happiness that you don't know, for fear that you might loose it? I found myself wishing she would just hurry up and drink already, so that my anxiety about her relapsing would disappear. That was me for a long time. I was just like, "Nope, don't trust it. Not yet."
I spent a weekend and 1/2 at home in Philly for Thanksgiving with little drama. I had fun! I didn't want to come back to school. This was my second "good" visit like that at home, as my summer visit for a week was positive too. So, I had two consecutive visits at home with less stress and more fun then I had had with my family in years! And with a sober mom for the first time sense I can remember. My Thanksgiving visit made me really excited about Christmas. After almost two years I thought, finally I could exhale...
Then tonight happened. I called my mom to tell her something funny before I went to bed. I had just spoke to her about two hours earlier. But, this conversation was different. She sounded "funny". She didn't even remember that we had spoken two hours earlier, and kept repeating herself, in a conversation full of "Umms, and ahhs" that was all too familiar to a previous time in our lives. I didn't want to believe it at first. I kept saying to myself, maybe she's tired, maybe she took some aspirin, or something. Finally, I said "Mom, what's wrong?, What's up? You sound funny. You sound strange." I didn't want to accuse her outright. Maybe I was wrong. But, I guess the good news is that she admitted it. "Yea, I've been drinking. But not much. Just a little. You know, drinking was not my issue, that wasn't my problem. Cocaine was." She just kept saying how happy she was and how good she felt. I said I had to go. That I was not happy. That I thought she was drinking, and that I needed to go. And I just hung up...
So, now what? It's late. I called some friends to vent...maybe cry... but everyone in there right mind is asleep now. This happened at around 11:30pm. So, I came up with the great idea to blog. At least I'll get this stuff out, and maybe someone will have some encouraging words or advise. I don't know. All I kept thinking was, why now? Not that there would ever be a good time, but now? I just don't know what to do, or how to feel. I mean, what is the appropriate response to this type of thing? She is an addict. Maybe I should just be grateful she lasted this long. I don't know.
I am so hurt. Really, my heart is broken. I struggle so hard to take care of my own feelings, because I also want to be respectful of hers. I guess I got to have more respect for this disease. It is serious. It's some bullshit is what it is. You know what my first response was after I hung up? Anger! Sadness. Despair. Like this is never going to end. And I just don't know if I can do it folks. I don't know if I have it in me. To go through years of back and forth with this disease with her. Years of a tug of war. I've seen it with my aunt who is an even more serious addict. I mean my aunt will go missing for months, been to jail, lived in crack houses, the works, since she was a teenager. My aunt is now in her 60s! My mom is 52. My mom is more of an in house drunk and addict. Many people never knew she had this problem for years accept close family. She hid it so well. She was a functioning addict for years until she lost her job and it became difficult for her to maintain her addiction and employment about 10 years ago. That's when things got really bad. But we knew, us kids always knew something was up, even when we couldn't name it drugs and alcohol. I hoped that we had overcome all that...but I guess it's gonna take more. I don't know.
I was supposed to go home today. I have a train scheduled to take me to Philadelphia. Guess I got to make a decision. My first reaction was to stay here. Don't go home. Not just because I wasn't sure what situation I was going home to, but because I wanted to punish her. I just felt like I wanted to hurt her, the way she just hurt me, and me not coming home, that would do it. She always looks forward to me coming home, especially for Christmas. I was just about to start packing. I was just calling to say goodnight, see you tomorrow, and she pulls this now? NOW! This is some serious bullshit! I just feel like, God, are you kidding me? Like, why? Why would you give me these parents? You know how people talk about heaven, and they will say God decides like, "Now this baby, I will give to so and so?" Well, I don't think that's what happened to me. I feel like, God said "Now these two parents, I will give these two to Angel". But why? Why would he give me the type of parents that I have felt emotionally and socially more mature than since I was at least 13 years old? Why do I feel like I am raising them? I'm tired of it. I don't want to raise anybody but my kids if I have them. They want to act a fool, act like they got all this time in the world, so be it. What can I do? Nothin.
So I have to decide whether I am going to go home or not. I just don't know. Will not going home punish me more than my mother? And what will any of it accomplish? I was so looking forward to it. Now I am just so very disappointed, again. And hurt. Just heart broken. I can't cry any more. I don't have any tears left. It is what it is. Life isn't fair is the biggest understatement I know. And I know I am really blessed and all that and blah, blah, blah. I know that it is possible that she will overcome this and everything will eventually be ok. But right now I just feel really shitty. Like all my dreams had come true at once, and then it was stolen from me before I got a chance to really enjoy it. Because the truth is, everything could not be ok too. She may never be sober again, or she may go in and out of sobriety for the rest of my life. And I just have to be ok with either of those possibilities. And right now, I'm just not man. I'm not ok with it. It's not cool. It's not ok. I don't deserve this. I deserve a sober mom...crap, tears...there they are...where was I?
Yes, I was saying that I think I deserve a sober mom, as everyone does. I didn't ask to be here, and yet I am. I deserve a healthy mom. Not a perfect mom. I just feel like I ask for so little. I don't want money or nothing. I just want a sober mom for Christmas. I just want a happy family. I thought I was going to have it. That's all I was looking forward to this Christmas. And I just lost that possibility. I am just morning that possibility right now. That's all. Because this means that I have to go home and put on this shell to protect myself. It means I have to keep my guard up to be prepared for anything. I was going to have one on anyway, but my shell had softened considerably. But, now that's over. I still don't know whether I will go home or not. But one thing is for sure. If I stay, it won't be to punish my mom. She is doing that well all by herself. If I stay, it has to be for me. To take care of myself, and because I think I will be safer and happier here, alone, even if that is not what I want.
Man, talk about bad timing. I need a break from school and the stress of writing a dissertation. Doesn't look like that's going to happen. I really looked forward to writing this dissertation with the conscience that my mom was sober and that was one less thing to worry about. It really felt good and made me so, so happy. I just can't tell you. It made all the difference in the world, even just for a time. Maybe I should just be grateful for that time.
I just struggle with my feelings because... I am angry and hurt at my mom, but I also love her so much, and I am full of concern and... I understand. I understand how she could relapse. I sensed that this was a possibility for a few weeks now, because she had not been going to church, had expressed feelings of anxiety to me, and had not seen her doctors about it for quite some time. She had been without her meds. So, I understand. It's just hard to juggle empathizing with her illness, taking care of myself, and holding her responsible for what she can control...and myself for that matter. I don't know man. This is really messed me up.
It's 1:00am and I am not packed. Should I stay or should I go? If I stay home, I will be alone for Christmas. How sad is that? I have a father that lives in this area, but he is a COMPLETE ASSHOLE. Really, so much worse than my mother. My mom is a good person and she loves me, she just has this awful addiction that ruins everything. But my father is a poor excuse for a man that I don't even have the strength to get into right now. The latest thing he pulled was the last straw for me. He told me he was sorry for the way I was born, but he was even more sorry that I have a cripple heart. He said it's bad enough that I'm cripple, but that my heart is cripple too. He thinks all this because I don't call him. Anyway, I don't have the strength to get into all that right now. I found what he said quite laughable really. But, it also hurts. So, for my mom to do this during the same week that my father called me randomly and said this...it's just too much. I need a break. Why, so much abuse and dysfunction is dumped on me, I will never know. I just don't know how much longer I can manage it, and still be healthy and reach my goals. I already cut off my father, but will I have to cut off my mom too? I really might, and that will really hurt me something awful. I just don't know if I will trust people or be able to feel close to anyone. I just think that will kill apart of me inside, because i just love her so, so much. I love her unconditionally. It just hurts, because it doesn't feel reciprocated. I know intellectually that this addiction isn't about me or her love for me, but personally I feel like, if that's true than why does it affect me so much? If it's not about me, why does it hurt me so bad? And what am I supposed to do to manage that? What the fuck! I just feel like, God are you kidding me? A disability, and crazy ass parents with addictions and mental illness? Like, who's grand idea was that? Oh, and I'm supposed to write a dissertation? Oh yea, that's totally doable. Piece of cake. Grad school professors have the nerve to want to haze me. Haze me? Haze me for what? Hazing is some fucked up process made up by privileged people to help make them strong because they ain't never been through nothin! I don't need to be hazed! I don't need any more extra shit on me right now. My life is hazing all in itself. Got the nerve to want to make it harder. These professors couldn't last a day. Do you hear me? Not a day in my shoes. How many other black women with Physical disabilities do you know pursuing their Phds? I used to know one, and she's dead. Died less than a month ago. Yea, that was real encouraging news. My other black disabled ally pursuing his PhD was a male, and he died two year ago this month. I don't know anyone else. Not to say that there isn't, because of course there is. But it sucks that there are so few, and that the only two I know, are dead. That can't be a good sign, and I am not willing to let the intersections of the oppressions in my life, fucking kill me. It's not worth it. My grandma taught me when I was a teenager that I was the number one thing in my life. So I have to prioritize myself. My health, my life, my happiness, over family, even over school. I want to succeed, but not at the expense of my health. I want my family in my life, but not at the expense of my happiness. I pray that God will help me find a way to manage all of these things, and still come out on top! I know that he has a purpose for my life. A good friend told me, that he gave me these challenges, because he knew I could handle it. Maybe that is why he gave me these parents, this disability, and this desire and opportunity to pursue my higher education.
Please excuse this pity party, cause I hate that. And don't feel sorry for me please. The good news is that these are problems that I have had my whole life, so nothing has changed really. It's not like it's a new problem that my father is an ass and my mother is an addict. My mother was an addict when she was sober. She is an addict now that she is not. I will be ok, and I will push through this. I will push through this because I know that I can, and because I know that there are so many other people that I can help, who have been through similar challenges and need support and encouragement. There are so many people that have been through far worse, and have accomplished more. As long as that is the case, I have nothing to feel sad and sorry about. Just got to do the best with the life God gave me. No sense in shaking my fist at God, cause I don't get to pick another life, or get to choose the exact circumstances he gives me in this one. I know these things intellectually, and feel them in my heart. But right now, I simultaneously feel genuinely sad for myself at the same time. Only because, this is the only life that I got and that I know. And while it could be worse, it could be better too. And I so wish that circumstances were better. I guess I have conflicting feelings inside, as humans often do. So, I am going to try to sleep on it. Give myself some time to boohoo, life isn't fair stuff, and then move on. Because life isn't fair, but God is faithful, and he has a plan. I'm a little mad at him right now, because this plan seriously looks like it sucks at the moment, but I have faith that it will change. I know that God loves me. Why else would I still be here? I am extremely privileged, blessed and loved. I will try to focus on that, and pray that God will help me figure out how to manage the rest, as he always has. Please excuse my typos and misspellings, but it's been an emotional night. Words of support and advise are welcome, and lots of prayers are especially needed. Thanks.
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