Tiny little scissors…

I had a panic attack tonight. I’m thinking the combo of herb and Hagen Daes curtailed a lot of it. My heart is still racing. I’m irritable. But , I can breathe. That is enough.

I kept seeing these today. The bag was on the counter and I didn’t really look at them. They are my mothers ” don’t touch” scissors. When I was young she has many pairs. They were all marked with their purpose. Sewing, cutting , gardening, all known as untouchable.

Rathe would come if one was missing. For someone as completely disorganized as her , scissors were like gold.

My mom is crafty. She can paint , draw , sew , and decorate. All shiny flimsy things to someone as concrete as myself. My handwriting looks like a serial killer or doctor… I’m in the medical field so that is ok. I have one crafty talent; I can cook my ass off. That was learned by default as my brother and I were neglected and I didn’t have a choice. I read cookbooks at 10 to try to feed him. We survived, though never thrived.

As mom gets closer to death , I’m finding these things all over the house. Things that have annoyed me most of my life are suddenly precious. I wonder how if hoarders start like this. Flimsy faded recipes for jello she couldn’t make , letters to people in her beautiful handwriting that thankfully, my daughters got from her. J has my handwriting. Pictures she’s painted over the years remain.

Every. Single. Thing. As seen on TV clutters and pack my drawers. . Everything was ( is ) special and interesting to her. I don’t have a single picture on the wall .. though in my defense, I’ve only lived in this house 19 years. Decorating always reminded me of my childhood and I try to avoid that. Home was a place of appearances, not feelings. As if you fancy something up enough, you’d be enough. It didn’t work that way.

My parents are Adoptees and they brought their baggage with them. Then , they inflicted it on my brother and me. It wasn’t their fault. They didn’t know. Easy to say now at past 50.

I’ve been up all night trying , as usual , to find any value in me. Still elusive. So , I’ll sit on the coach with a pounding head and see my therapist in a few hours to tell her I’m going to be without insurance soon. I’m sure it will go well. My mind is racing. I need to order all of my meds now. I need to pay bills with Monopoly money. I need a vacation. Or , a nice stay in the hospital.

I’ll leave you with this ; When did having a nervous breakdown go out of vogue ? Gone are the days you could fall apart and someone would catch you.

Love to all. I’m still here. I have a pretty good record of surviving the unserviceable.

This is Sarge. My constant. I love him. A Belgian Malinois. He’s snoring in my lap.

Real Panic Attack Live…….

So, I’m having a full blown panic attack and I decided to share. Have you had one or seen one ? This is mine……

Description: Crying without making noise. Shaking violently. Wanting to run to the fucking make believe safe place my therapist is so fond of. Rage. Terror. Grief. I’m going to throw up again. Easily annoyed. Eyes 👀 huge.

I should have known it was coming. Today is just too much EVERYTHING. I have zero reserve and I danced too close to the line. I’m FINE!!!!!! Insert sobs.

Triggers: extremely ill. Mom is getting worse. R is having cancer surgery right now , still after 6 hours. Did I forget to tell you my husband lost his job over 3 weeks ago? Yeah. Not something I can tell. Phone therapy today triggered me. I told her that I won’t get over my daughter…. for the hundredth time. They seem like they think I could or would. Bills. FEAR! In my bones. It’s hard to think or type so you’re getting live without fucking beeps. My guilt on not being able to financially contribute because I’m a disaster and I’m going through disability. Loser. Worthless. Powerless.

Having No One to call. Lonely. Isolated. Alone. I’m one of thousands doing this right now and I decided I would probably live through it if I wrote.

People are arguing over a damn football player and my daughter won’t speak to me ever. How is the world still spinning? Young girls are giving up their babies because they are told they aren’t enough. I was once one , a long long time ago. And , that was part of what destroyed me.

How are we going to pay for anything or medicine or dogs or living ? My mother will never see the beach again and I need to be okay with that. She won’t ever meet her great grandchildren, and that breaks my heart.

I’m furious, terrified, lost , broken and the thing is …. I know the worst is coming. This isn’t it. It’s the prelude. Isn’t that fabulous?????

I want to be invisible. I want to be tiny. I don’t want to have to breathe. Ha! I even managed to get a damn migraine on Aimovig. Useless me.

The thing is about a panic attack, you can’t share it. You are whining. You need to be strong. Blah blah blah. Buck up. Try harder. Be more. You aren’t enough. See the circle ⭕️???

I’m going to be fine. Great. Everything everyone wants me to be. A lie. But , it sounds good. I’m actually going to have some herb and calm the fuck down.

This is panic. This makes no sense. This is me sometimes. I won’t apologize for it. It’s never forgiven.

I don’t edit myself for anyone. If someone doesn’t like me , I’ll know. I feel too damn much for people that don’t feel a thing for me.

Finding out my Mom was dying after my last post….

After I wrote my blog on Forgiveness, we received bad news. Mom is dying. We chose Palliative Care yesterday. She’s having trouble breathing, her legs are covered in blisters from all of the fluid, and her kidney function is poor. She has refused all dialysis, and advanced life support.

I’m obsessively cleaning. I don’t know why. It’s Very unlike me. But , I’m full of this chaos in my mind. I guess it’s something tangible I can do when I cannot save her. I’ve been a ICU nurse for 26 years. That’s what I do , I save people. I can’t save my own mother. Hard to accept.

I have a strained relationship with my brother, yet yesterday we were discussing her funeral. Total brain confusion. It doesn’t seem real. I keep thinking that this really isn’t happening. I’m not ready.

She is happy, and ready. I think that scares me the most. I know when people are ready , that it doesn’t take long. Yet , I don’t want her to suffer. It’s a mix of desperation in wanting her comfortable and not wanting her to leave.

I’ve been around death for a long time. I’m good at this , Right?? It’s so different when it’s your mom. My beautiful daughter is scared and sad and that breaks my heart. I have lost one relative in my life. My only biological Grandmother, Nana. In fact it will be 20 years ago next month. I miss her daily. I still want to call her. I can’t imagine what this will be like.

I’m trying so hard to only focus on her. I’m being happy and playful and so full of it. What I honestly feel is the terror of abandonment. My constant companion. Another person I love is leaving me.

I know in my mind it’s best. Struggling to breathe I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I promised her I wouldn’t let her suffer. I’ve done Hospice as a nurse, but never on my family. I pray I’m up to the task.

I’ve lost so much I don’t want to lose my mom. She loved me before I was born. She’s always loved me , even at my worst. That’s what moms do. I’m scared to death. Will I crash and destroy myself, again? Time will tell.

I love you Mom. Always have and always will. You promised to haunt me and I’m counting on it. I’ll look for you everywhere and in everything.

Let’s enjoy our time together now. Trying to stay present. Not one of my strong suits. But , I’ll do my best. I’ll love you till your last breath and after that , forever.

If you’re reading this , please take the steps you need to so you don’t waste anymore time. Tomorrow isn’t promised. Life is so short and precious.

Forgiveness for my Mother that took my Firstborn…..

This has been a very long road. It hasn’t been just the 32 years that she wouldn’t let me keep my first born daughter. I’ve been angry with Mom since she made Dad go away. Of course she didn’t actually do that , but to a 10 year old girl , it certainly felt like that. Only now am I understanding that He left US. We didn’t fail , he did. As to why he left , I’ll leave that for another day. Today is about my Mom.

They say holding on to anger only poisons you. I have found that to be true. I was so mad at her for my perception that she didn’t love either of us enough to save us. That she could have rescued me , but chose not to. I didn’t see that she simply didn’t have the tools to know what to do.

Mom was with Dad since high school. They are both adopted. She had never been on her own or felt like she was enough. How could she possibly feel she was enough to save her daughter and granddaughter? In my pain I only saw her betrayal and my grief. I didn’t consider the trauma she had been through herself. That everyone she had loved had left her. Adoptees have taught me much.

After I married my lost daughters dad and had her sister, we moved from California to Georgia for his first real job. I was glad to leave, my lost daughter was there and it killed me daily knowing that. I worried about her daily ( hourly ) and this would be a new start. I was only lying to myself. The abuse I had in California came with us to Georgia. It was easier to hide but I was completely alone. Once when he kicked me in the head with his steel toed boots , I didn’t go to the hospital, though I know I needed it. I was terrified they’d take my precious daughter and I had no one to call. I stayed silent.

Shame and silence are companions that protect each other. I struggled to be a good wife and mother and tried to shield my daughter from his fits of rage. He never hurt her and loved her dearly and that was enough. I didn’t matter. I so wanted to prove that I was doing everything well. I wanted the cloak of shame to disappear. It didn’t.

About 17 years ago my mom became too ill to live alone. She moved in with me and my new husband and my daughter and young son. I’d had him shortly before my divorce. Living with the women I felt had destroyed my life was anything but easy. I ranted and sobbed as my lost daughter grew up. I blamed my mom for me never meeting my daughter. I was wrong. It had nothing to do with her and only recently did I discover in therapy that how could I expect forgiveness from my daughter when I wouldn’t grant it to my mom. I had to see my mom as a person , not as the enemy. She moved into assisted living two years ago. I feel that helped a lot. The distance gave me a chance to breathe.

I saw my mom differently as time went on. I saw she loved me dearly and regretted what had happened. I let her love me , finally. That was a huge step for me. Feeling So unlovable is prominent in me. But , I sobbed on her many a night. I am fiercely protective of her as I often felt I had raised her. Dysfunctional much ? Yep.

My moms health is getting much worse of late and fear has grabbed me inside thinking she will soon be gone. I knew I had to fix this Now. She had always loved me and though she wasn’t the mom everyone dreams of in their childhood, she was mine. I’ve watched too many Sisters in Adoptionland find graves. If they could forgive, so could I.

She made quilts for each baby she’d never meet. She atoned as she listened to me wail in primal screams of missing my daughter. She rocked me as I sobbed for what should have been and never will. If I was truly going to own my own story , I could no longer blame her. I accepted my fait and decided I had to find a way.

Her kidneys are now failing and I don’t know how much longer she’ll be here. She has refused all heroic measures. Both of her adopted parents killed them selves. She was abused. She was a victim, too.

I know how hard it is. Our parents are supposed to save us. Mine didn’t. But , they are humans not magical. They make mistakes, some huge. I knew I didn’t need one more ounce of grief and regret. I accepted that she was sorry she didn’t help me. I know it wasn’t out of meanness, but out of not knowing what to do. It took me years to see her as an Adoptee, as one of my Sisters.

As her time here grows to an end , I don’t want it to be full of sadness , but of love. She deserves so much more. I hope I’m up to the task of letting her know that. I’m trying to be more present and not live in the past. It’s very hard when you’ve had the trauma, but she’s worth it. How can I expect both of my daughters to truly love and respect me if I don’t give that to my Mom?

Healing and forgiving are messy and painful. You stumble a lot and it takes time and effort. But , I believe it’s worth it. She is worth it. She has been enough and it’s time she knew it.

I love you Mom. You did your best. You have an amazing legacy and I’m grateful you were in my life all of these years. Don’t go just yet. I’m not done loving you.

When you feel you’re the only one that lives at the Therapist and what happened after that appointment….. raw

I’m at my trauma therapist right now. We are going to do EMDR and dig deep. I’m so nervous. Growing and learning about my trauma and loss isn’t easy. It sometimes hurts like hell. Denying that my parents hurt me has been the ” easy” way. I’m so used to self- loathing, to shame , to never being Enough and to people I love leaving. Exploring all of that is painful.Flash to now: About 18 hours post session. We dug out horrible, disgusting pieces yesterday. Pieces that I’ve never verbalized. Shame fills me even now. I wish I undo it all. After therapy yesterday, I felt spent and tired. Went home , started dinner and my stomach went full on IBS. My back that has stopped hurting, zapped me again with electricity. Of note is that during this time , my mom found out yesterday she’s dying sooner than she thought. Another post. I had a lot of Cbd last night. I felt wonderful. Still noticed areas of pain , but not severe. Still no thoughts on therapy. Isn’t dissociate great ? They came. Whether in vivid dreams or awake in the dark. Reliving awful painful events. Dark secrets meant to drown in the dark. Woke up with a severe migraine this morning. Nausea and diarrhea. Thought of all I was and did. Also , who I am now. I’ve lived my second life atoning every second. Forgiveness isn’t allowed. Self sentencing at its finest. Took a lot more Cbd. Head doesn’t hurt. Numb. Alive. Existing. This post was started on another topic. Obviously, the therapy took it somewhere else.

Yesterday I was the Tooth fairy for my Mom…

Caring for your elderly parents is never easy , and the added difficulty of them causing the biggest trauma in your life sure complicates it even more. My parents wouldn’t let me keep my firstborn, their first grandchild. I’ll never completely understand it. But , they are Adopted and I know that played a huge role.

My mom moved out from the west coast right after 911. She lived with us for 15 years until moving into assisted living 2 years ago. That was not easy having my mom in my home as everything collapsed around me. She heard my truth and watched me dissolve after a rejected reunion. I lashed out , as the teen that had her daughter ripped away. I said many things I’m not proud of and I know I wanted her to SEE what she had done.

She witnessed the turmoil in my family as my raised children, all full siblings with my lost daughter, reacted to adoption. It wasn’t pretty and almost destroyed us all. We are all still working on it and probably will for the rest of my life.

There came a time that I knew I had to forgive her. She had a horrible childhood and just didn’t know how to parent. I knew I wanted to be everything she wasn’t. If only life was that easy. Call it fait , karma , or whatever is easier. Dysfunctional families continue, though not necessarily in the same way or degree.

Learning to forgive her has been a process. I had to see her as the adopted child she was , and not the neglectful parent she had been. She simply didn’t have the tools to raise my brother and me.

As she reaches the end of her life , I don’t want regrets. I try to be a good loving daughter. I fail on occasion.

Yesterday at the doctor, we were checking her out post shoulder replacement. Her front tooth was ” flapping ” as she called it. I asked if she wanted it out. She did. And , in a second it was gone. She was shocked on how I knew what to do.

Memories came flashing back. She never pulled my teeth , brushed my hair or any of the mom things most had. I raised myself and little brother. She simply checked out on our childhood when dad left.

I know if I don’t forgive her and love her , I’ll be forever guilt ridden. I do not need one more drop of guilt or regret in my life. She doesn’t remember most of my life and has dementia now.

So I run her errands, take her to doctors and try to involve her in things she likes. I try to be who I needed her to be. She’s always pleasant and grateful and I feel extreme guilt wherever I fail.

Adoption made us orphans when they took our babies. So ironic how that worked out that way. I’m trying to forgive daily. For me and for them.

If you need me , I’ll be playing tooth fairy, and fixing my moms hair. Love means going through the pain to get to the good stuff.

Father’s Day has come and gone…

Father’s Day has been hard for me for some time. My Dad , an adoptee, eliminated me from his life and his heart. It’s been 10 years since I’ve seen him, and he just stopped loving me. No explanation, nothing.

He abandoned me at age 10 when he left my mom. We had occasional visits, but he liked to take my brother and me to the movies. I truly feel that he didn’t have to interact with us on those visits.

He also wrote off my children, except one. My lost daughter, that he wouldn’t allow me to keep. He’s in her life, and though that hurts , I’m happy for them. I’m sad for her siblings. He’s missing out on two amazing people.

Dad was always my hero. I completely adored him. I still love him with all of my heart. It’s taken years to accept he wants no part of me. The hardest part is I don’t have a reason. He just stopped loving me. How do people do that?

He’s great friends with my ex husband and his wife. That was a difficult thing to swallow. Being so easily replaced. Not knowing why hurt and confused me. I’ll never know.

I wish him Happy Father’s Day every year on FB. We aren’t friends, so I doubt he sees it. I don’t think he ever wanted children and this was his way out.

I wish he’d explain it to me. Understanding makes things easier to accept. It’s the wondering and going over each event that hurts. If I knew why , maybe I could fix it. Wishful thinking at its best.

I love you Dad. Always have and always will. I hope you had a wonderful day. I didn’t call or text because I know that is your wishes.

Life is short. Forgive often and love one another. I’ll always love you.