It takes most of the night just to find that one great position where the blanket is pulled to just the right height and where my body is curled up. You would think that after years my body would just use it’s memory to find that same space, but I think it has more to do with the brain resting than how my actual body is positioned. At the same time I can get out of bed most days in a flash. Doesn’t matter if I’m tired or sick, elated to start some new thing, or just the sound of someone walking brings back memories of another life. Mostly I run from the bed because of one simple notion, I worry about the coming time when I just won’t be able to get up no matter the circumstances. (one would hope if the house were on fire, I’d find that motivating!)
Yesterday I decided it was time to kick out the roommate. Take the chance that by removing this tumor in my head I was going to come out the other side of things different. It sent me to the phone to call someone, reaching out like I haven’t in a very long time. I called my mother and basically begged her to come as soon as possible. The last time I did that was the day I needed someone to drive me to the hospital to bring the ex home after our daughter wasn’t coming home again. But after that conversation with my mother I did something else I haven’t needed to do in quite some time. I asked my actual housemate to take me to a group meeting.
I sat there silently for quite some time. I didn’t know what to say and I wasn’t able to offer a single word of comfort to any other person. It took a woman railing about her anger to pull me into their world. The issue for me was that while I sat listening I was also getting pulled into her anger. My reasons for going had been to just talk to some people who understood where my mind was at that moment. Instead I was getting progressively more angry and it was burning inside me until I needed to sit on my hands for a little self-control.
That same woman looked at me and asked rather politely “Are you going to say anything?” I didn’t know where to begin. Her pain, my pain, talking about deflated footballs and how I was happy to no longer hear it with every news broadcast? My lips was quivering and I just broke down. The emotions were, no they are too much for me to handle without that safety valve being let open.
My anger about an ex who just walked when I needed her. After having spent the previous week sitting in the ER with her, but she just told me I wasn’t worth her time. My grief about my daughter. The absolute confusion I’ve been having about what to do about my own medical situation. Feeling trapped in a set of nesting boxes and I was being pushed into the next smallest container.
By the time my mouth felt dry, I had so many hands on me trying to offer something I keep denying myself. Kindness, an emotional response I don’t feel like I deserve. Not in a room full of people who need it as much as I do. I had hoped to make someone else feel better, that had been the goal. I never expected anything from anyone, another unpleasant result of my ex’s behavior.
My mom’s plane lands in a few hours and I don’t know how I’m going to be by the time she pulls into the driveway. She doesn’t deal well with those times when her son, who handles everything for the family, needs to be handled himself. She taught me how to harness my strengths as a child, this is one of those times when they falter. Lately they have been faltering more than I’m comfortable admitting.
There really are times when I wished I paid more attention in my Psychology class in college. Maybe the joke my neighbor repeats about “Hey Dr. Lary, heal yourself” might be possible? There is one nice side-effect to the process they will use to evict the roommate, I have the most pleasant dreams about my kid! That scene from “The Natural” where they are just tossing the ball back and forth, my dad and I love to watch that movie!
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Forward Drive.”