This past
weekend, I found myself in a familiar situation that has been a part of my life
for 52 years. Yep, all my life. The story is so long. I couldn't even imagine writing it in one
blog post. But today while I was reading
about how to make myself emotionally strong, I realized what has been bothering
me about how I reacted over the weekend.
I retreated into myself and became the child I used to be when dealing
with the mental illness in my family.
For this
particular episode in life, I can go back to a year and a half ago. My hip started hurting while on a trip to
West Virginia. When I came home, I went
to the doctor. In all that time, I did
physical therapy and steroid shots. The
pain only left for a couple of weeks, and the pain came back with vengeance. I fought pain all that time. Dealing with that much pain reeks havoc on
emotional strength. In fact, pain shreds
emotional strength.
About eight to
nine months ago, my mother became worse with her mental illness that has never
been diagnosed. Long story short, the
emotional ups and downs that have taken place at least weekly left me with no
strength left. Going into the weekend, I
didn't realize how bad I was until as we drew closer to Libby my panic
spiked. As we pulled into town, I wanted
a shot of rum.
I started
cursing as we came to the bank. I needed
to chat with someone about my mother's account which I am now the power of
attorney of to run her finances. I
froze. I couldn't go by myself. My sister came with me and when we couldn't
get inside, she dialed the number. At
this point, I self talked enough to leave a message. A loan officer came out to chat. I started doing a little better and was able
to get the business done there and at the court house. I did have a shot after that when we drove
out to Mom's. No, I wasn't driving. I have never had a shot before facing
something. That is how far down the
rabbit hole of panic I had traveled.
The entire
weekend, my sister was the strong one. I
retreated into myself. I hate that. I pride myself in being strong, but I just
couldn't pull myself out of the pit of despair.
Doing a little research this morning on gaining emotional strength, the
articles I read triggered memories of me as a child. Until about fourth grade, I was the good
little girl who kept the peace. I was
always afraid and uncertain. I had no self-esteem.
I am not that
little girl anymore, but I was close enough that I hated my timid responses. So many people have told me their opinions
since my dad passed away about how I need to be dealing with this
situation. I have read a number of
books. None of the books agree with
these people. In the end, no one knows
the relationship I have been in for the last 52 years. No one knows how it affects me. Years ago, I went so far down into the mess
of the mental illness that I almost couldn't function the simplest of tasks. I won't go back there.
Yes, I need to
go back into counseling. I have been
there a number of times for this.
Unfortunately, this whole video conferencing thing has me stressed
beyond control, so I will start with a new therapist when I can meet face to
face. I have been joining my daughter
with her sessions, so I am addressing a little bit of the issues. I will also journal and rest. I will work to get my strength back. Today I went garden shopping. Tomorrow I will garden even if it is in the
rain. I will read, crochet, and listen
to music. I will be strong again!
