Less Mess

Good news is for some reason, perhaps that I don’t sit at a computer or I am moving all the time since it’s summer, my body isn’t in pain and I can handle my medicine. It’s become something I rely on. Something that I am afraid to not have. It numbs me, in a sense. It makes everything manageable. Like the fact I haven’t had my dad since 2019-ish where I could talk with him and count on him to answer some question, but like…2019 is when I saw the changes the most, but the changes began in about 2017 and my mom just refused to see it. The medicine allows me to manage the fact I never had parents who loved me in the way I needed and now my mother is running her life into the ground. My childhood home is falling apart. It smells of cat piss, the air conditioner upstairs doesn’t work and shit falls apart on the daily. The decks are falling apart. This was the house where everyone at school got to say I was a rich snob at. All the while, my parents had no money, put all things on credit cards, didn’t pay taxes correctly on purpose, etc etc drove around in BMWs and went on fancy trips.

It is fine. Except that it isn’t.

The medicine makes it more manageable that it’s only me and Dustin who can truly care about me. And it’s really me who can care about me the best and most. And everyone has their own stuff. But, “at the risk of feeling dumb, check in, it’s not worth the risk of losing a friend”….Twentyone Pilots gets it. But also I check in, but it’s getting redundant and old to check in on people that don’t really have the capacity to care about your life and the things that are going on and your kids and just take an actual interest in you as a person.

And you probably will never guess that I’ve trauma bonded with my sister over our parents at this point. She still is closed off in a way I wish she was not, but it’s so much better. And I can get more out of her on her real feelings. I have to realize she was also raised by these pieces of work who had no business having kids together or being married. I’m the product of two really not so great human beings and no one understands but my sister and myself. Because you go through life pretending and forgetting all the fucked up stuff that happened. And people only see the outside and the good. And then people have the audacity to say I’ll miss them when they’re gone. You have no clue. You have no idea what they were really like. So. I don’t know. I’ll cross that bridge later.

The medicine allows me to remember this stuff and deal and manage the anger. The medicine gives me a bit more time before I react in an explosive way to my kids. It really doesn’t happen anymore and hasn’t really happened since November. Dustin and I haven’t fought basically since November. Which is wild and also amazing.

The medicine will allow me to attend one part of a 20 year reunion with people I don’t need or don’t need to see because if I did, I would’ve seen them before the reunion.

But. Might as well.

I’m fine, but also I am not. I continue on because my kids deserve a mother who loves them, stays alive for them and continues to try to live a life that allows them to feel safe, secure and loved. I want them to thrive as they grow older and see two loving parents who say sorry, support them, don’t make fun of them, are advice givers and someone for them to feel good about talking to. I continue to try and get better for them. And lately I’ve been sad, but I don’t know why. And there’s not a lot I can do. But it will pass. And I’ll push on through.

Because that’s the only option.