Road Trip

Week 31

Last night, we met with many of his old friends for a birthday celebration (his friend John’s birthday) in New Orleans. I rarely feel comfortable at such events but I knew how important it was to Richard that I be there. I went and it was more fun than I thought it would be. That’s the problem with social anxiety, things rarely turn out as bad as your mind tried to make them beforehand.

The only bad thing about it at all was an old girlfriend of his that kept going out of her way to remind me that they had once been together. In retrospect, it’s totally laughable. I truly couldn’t care less about things that happened so many years ago. Or even so much about what the future may hold. I just plain found her to be annoying and not very bright. But I will say she was sort of nice.

That being said, I met several very nice people. I got to see some I’ve met before and really like. So, all-in-all, I would say it was a lovely evening.
Now, we are travelling our way slowly home. Doing something we rarely do, we are both playing nice and on our best behaviors. We will spend the night here in Gulf Shores, Al. This week is short and sweet, kind of like me. Lol. It is time for me to flyyyyyy…

After A Lifetime

Week 30

After having not seen my father in almost 10 years, I saw him and my stepmonster day before yesterday. My sister, niece, nephew and I met them at their hotel to go swimming. In the course of a very stilted and very limited conversation, they played a weird tag-team game of question and answer. He expressed how much he liked my barefoot sandals and asked where I got them, as he stared down at my feet. He asked a lot about my mom’s health. She asked if I get to visit my mom often. He asked what kind of job I have. She asked what town I live in. He asked if I was planning to stay in the area. She asked why when I replied, "yes". I explained that we wanted to stay there until Jordyn graduates and I mentioned that he is staying with Melissa currently because of his job. He nodded his head and asked how many children Melissa has now. She asked if Richard and I are still married. He ran out of conversation. She apparently did, too. Seriously, that’s all I got after 10 years. That's it.

We moved toward the pool and they hastened to put a distance between us. I didn’t expect it to be anything other than what it was. He has no clue about anything in my life. He doesn’t want to know me. What breaks my heart in all of this, and always has, is the loss. He doesn't know me and he doesn't know my children (he has missed out on most of their lives) and he doesn't know my beautiful grandbabies. I’m not even sure he has a clue how many of them there are. I sincerely doubt he cares.

He has denied me for almost as long as I can remember. I’ve always wondered why. It’s a question that will never be answered. As I watched him from a distance, I was struck yet again, with how much I favor him and his side of the family. The resemblance is more pronounced as I age, I think. On the outside, it would seem I have inherited much from him, on the inside, not so much… if anything at all. There seems to be no resemblance between him and my blond-haired, blue-eyed sister. They on the other hand are VERY close, they always have been and apparently always will be. They are well suited for one another. She is crazy and he is an asshole.

My stepmonster spent almost the entire time sitting on the side of the pool playing Yatzhee with my sister. For some reason, my sister has always sucked up to her. As long as I can remember, they have paired up the few times we have all been together. I was just a wee bit amused at the pointed way the stepmonster ignored me for the most part. I'm afraid by association, my niece was ignored most of the time as well. The one time my father swam near us and appeared to want to communicate, he seemed at such a loss for words, I almost felt sorry for him... almost.

I’m certain the stepmonster was relieved when, after what seemed like forever of listening to the kids saying that they were hungry, I offered to go get everybody food. My niece and I dried off and nearly raced for the exit. The stepmonster's relief was nearly palpable when I delivered it and announced I couldn’t stay because I needed to get back to Mama’s so I could feed her, too. I told them my niece would be going with me. My niece had already begged me to not leave her and had eaten in the car on the way back.

The brief hugs we exchanged as they stood there holding the food I’d bought seemed to emphasize the distance between us. My father’s arms around me were the arms of a stranger. Stiff, reserved, and decidedly uncomfortable, it was an obligatory gesture that resonated with the saddest emptiness I have ever felt.

The stepmonster’s hug was devoid of all emotion. I’m not surprised because it’s been that way for the nearly 40 years I have known her. Funny, when I think of her I generally think of a void. I’ve never seen her as a particularly intelligent person. Nor do I see her as a person capable of true emotion. I can’t explain it I just feel it and always have.

To celebrate and commemorate the sense of freedom I felt at the moment I turned away from them, I decided to get a tattoo. Peter Pan, Wendy, John & Michael are now shadows flying across my arm. Those who know me will get the significance. Those who don’t won’t. Seeing him again has taught me several things. We are nothing to each other. We never really were. We never will be. After a lifetime of pain and anger, I am finally free.

Meet The Dragon

Week 29


I was subjected to a situation this past week that really made me stop and think about a lot of things. It can only be described as the road trip from hell. I was subjected to four long hours of torturous, venom-spewing, mind-boggling hatred mixed with occasional bouts of sweetness.

Unless you have dealt with the manic, I doubt you could possibly understand. The metaphorical punches just kept coming and coming. I was verbally slapped until I felt battered and bruised, raw and bloodied. I felt myself withdrawing from the onslaught. I wanted to draw away from the darkness that was being created. I struggled to focus on the light.

I have often equated this mental illness to a dragon. When it is sleeping, you can see only the riches around it. When it is awake, it burns, melts, and devours everything it can. God help the being that wakes the sleeping dragon…

Having not seen this particular dragon awake for a long time, I didn’t expect it now. For almost 31 years, I have dealt with it. I am nonetheless shocked every time it rears its ugly head. I have been the recipient of its wrath more times than I can count. It has broken bones and broken hearts. It has shattered lives and shattered dreams. It always leaves a wake of destruction and bloodshed until it moves on. You learn to tread warily, while constantly praying for peace.

The pain of knowing that someone you love has no control over their thoughts or actions is almost tangible. To be on the receiving end of this unique kind of anger and hatred is incomprehensible. To be the person the dragon holds responsible is a weight unlike any other. To live with the knowledge that you are blamed solely because you gave birth to the child that holds the dragon within, is the source of endless tears. To watch your child battle this for a lifetime is a lifetime filled with nightmares.

How difficult it is to accept and live with the dragon. I love the child with all my heart. I love the child and hate the dragon. Entirely separate entities, they are never one in the same, yet they are forever united. Seldom does a day go by that I don’t wish it could be slain. But to slay the dragon would be to kill the child and that is not an option.

Today, my heart ached to hear she was coming over. I held my breath as she walked in the door. Her smile told me the dragon is once again sleeping. All is temporarily right in her world. I could almost hear the echoes of his snores from within her as she hugged me. With a sigh, I looked deep into her eyes. There I saw, with relief, exactly what I was looking for. I saw only my child once again.

I Gotta Laugh

Week 28


Yesterday went nothing like I expected it to. I learned a long time ago that Peggy, the lady I take care of, and I get along best when we are not exposed to prolonged time together. This rule actually applies to all of her caregivers. It also works best when she isn’t suffering from anxieties, because, she unfortunately, brings her anxieties onto herself. This was destined to be an anxiety riddled weekend before it ever started and I was determined to get through it the best I could.

Peggy loves planning parties. Big ones or little ones, it doesn’t matter, she adores them all. She gets a small idea in her mind and it runs to epic proportions at times. Or as is the case with last night, it went from a dinner party of 3 on Thursday to a party of 8 by Friday night. To make it easier on me, she had the meal catered. All I had to do is pick it up… at 1:00 pm I went to pick up stuff from her friend Mae that needed to be exchanged (Mae is critically ill so we occasionally do things for her and her husband), had to go to 2 different grocery stores, a department store (for the exchanges), Walmart , delivered the exchanged items to Mae, then back home to unload everything and pick up the dogs, drop the dogs off at the groomer’s by 4:00 (which was accomplished but Luna (big boxer mix) decided to twist herself around me as Happy (Cavalier Spaniel) twisted the opposite direction resulting in me landing on my butt hog-tied in the main aisle at PetSmart), and be at the caterer’s by 4:15.

At the caterer’s, it took a bit longer than expected because of a minor mistake. From there I dropped off the a complete dinner for two at Mae & David’s, made it home in time to get the table set and everything organized.

It’s our job to see to it that everything gets done exactly the way she wants it. The biggest problem is, the closer it gets to party time, the worse her anxieties get. I prefer to try to get her through the evening without anxiety meds whenever possible. Last night was a good night… a med free evening. Peggy was ready and waiting an hour before the guests arrived. Everything was on schedule and I managed to slip into my brand new clothes less than 2 minutes before the doorbell rang with the first guests.

There were 2 couples Marlene & Peter, Gloria & Tracy. I served everyone drinks and went back to the kitchen. A couple of seconds later, Peter came in wanting ice for Marlene’s red wine. I filled a separate glass with ice cubes and handed it to him. He reached in and grabbed several pieces which he plunked into the wine causing a rain shower of bright purple spots to appear all over my new dress. He apologized and leaned forward as if to wipe at them and dribbled more down the bottom of it in little rivulets. With a sigh, I ushered him out of the room, assuring him it was ok.

Dinner went off without a hitch. As the last guest slipped out the door, I was a blur of motion. The dogs were supposed to be picked up at 8 and it was almost that. Peggy decided she wanted to ride with me and I urged her to hurry. We made it to pick up the dogs right at 8:30. Loading them in the back we headed to Richard’s hotel. Because I am on a liquid diet, Peggy insisted on getting a complete meal for Richard and dropping it off to him. From there we stopped by my house so I could grab the pillow I’d forgotten to take with me on Friday. I never sleep worth a flip without it!

By bedtime, we were both exhausted. I put her to bed and started the dishwasher, I started a load of clothes and went to get out of my stained dress. I looked at the damage and thought to myself, “There has to be a way to salvage it.” Suddenly, I had a thought. I went and poured a glass of red wine before carrying it to my room. I laid the dress out on the bed and flicked wine droplets off my fingers onto the dress. By the time I was done, it looked like part of the tie-dye design and I have the added bonus of having a one-of-a-kind original. If you can’t laugh at life, it will make you cry. Me? I gotta laugh.

My Anchor

Week 27



I feel as if I’ve been set adrift,
my anchor no longer there.
I am floating along, doing the things that I must do.
But everything feels surreal right now.
I stagger beneath the weight of an overwhelming sense of loss.
It almost feels like something or someone died.

Suddenly, I realize that as long as someone is alive,
there is the possibility of changing the current circumstances.
A ray of hope begins to shine.
I remind myself that I am alive.
I have found my anchor again.
I have found me.

Flying Colors

Week 26


As doctor after doctor told Mama she shouldn’t have her knee replaced right now, I watched a determination light her eyes. They explained that she was at the highest of risks if she underwent anesthesia. They doubted she would survive the surgery. Regardless of their words, I saw the desperation to reclaim any shred of quality to her life. I thought of the unbelievable pain she had been in for months and the heavy drugs she had been on because of it. I knew she felt she had no other choice. I know I had no other choice. I supported her in her decision to go ahead with the surgery.

I was amazed that it took this to finally get her to draw up a Will but she finally did. I am so proud of her for getting her affairs in order.

Almost one year ago, they told her she had cancer and she only had 3-6 weeks to live… she proved them wrong. They told her she probably wouldn’t make it through this surgery… she proved them wrong. Shouldn't, couldn't and wouldn't just are NOT a part of our vocabularies. She came through it with flying colors. She showed everyone just what she is made of. I have always said I come from the stock of steel magnolias and Mama proved it yet again. I’m not surprised, just very, very thankful. This is not where it ends. We have things to do, places to go, and things to see. If Mama wants the moon, I will try to lasso it for her. She is not just my mother, she is my friend.

Vindication

Week 25


I wish I didn’t have to deal with the jealousies, insecurities, greed, spitefulness, anger, viciousness, and lying of loved ones in my life. They make it very difficult to find peace sometimes. They wound in a way only family can ever wound you. They attack me where I am most vulnerable. They can do it because they know my weakest spots after having spent a lifetime as my family. While I love them, I’ve discovered I have no option but to seek shelter from their storm of hatred.

There is nothing about my life that should cause envy or jealousy. I am not and never have been pretty. I do not and have never had much money and I have worked damn hard for what I have earned. Making ends meet has become something of an art form for me. I am not young. In fact, I get steadily older every minute. I take care of the dying while I try to help them to live. I am always tired, and often short-tempered.

I am hurt but I’m not beaten. I am down but I’m not out. I will not hang my head for even a moment, because I am the only one who has nothing to be ashamed of. I am sad for the losses, because they aren’t worth the price that’s been paid. I wonder if they will ever notice?

I know the truth. God knows the truth. My friends, the real ones, know the truth. My family, the real ones, know the truth. And if they would only take a moment to cast their negatives aside, they, too, would know the truth. I am certain they already do. They won't find the validation they are looking for because it doesn't exist where they are looking. I don't need anyone's validation but I do want vindication. I deserve it.

There will come a day when this will all be over and I will breathe a sigh of relief. I will put it all behind me and finally be free to move on as far from the dark as I can get. After all, hasn’t it been said before, “The truth shall set you free”!