A Million Times More

I practiced mindfulness today. I practiced a little bit of gratitude. Both I need to work on some more. What I did not practice today and this seems to be a theme, is not flying off the handle.
Last night when T got home we talked a bit and as he was laying in bed he wanted to know when he was going to his dad’s. I said next week. He got a little irrate and was not listening. Finally it seemed that it sunk in. Next week was his dad’s week. This week is mine. I let him go to his dad’s both yesterday and today after school. I am really fine with that. He has been spending so much time with me, I thought that it would be good for him to have extra time with his dad.
This morning was going great until I tried to make an appointment for T to have his eyes checked. He went off about how he did not want to. That his eyes were fine. Why on earth did he need to have his eyes checked. And besides which this was his weekend with his dad. Calmly I explained that really his eyes should be checked yearly. That given I wear glasses, that Chichi use to wear glasses, bad eyes run in the family, we need to ensure that any problems are caught quickly. Than I said and this was not his his weekend with his dad it was mine.
T demanded to know how it was fair that I got to have him for three weeks in a row. I explained for what felt like the 100th time that last week had been Spring break. That with his dad working nights, we had decided that T would stay here. His dad picked him up from the grandparents on Thursday took him to a movie and dropped him off back home to me around 4:30 and went home to have friends over. Friday was the chocolate hunt and he was not feeling so great. This is not what I said to T. I need to put this out there so I can let it go.
T began again, about how unfair it was. And I flew off the handle. I raised my voice. I said this is my week with you, mine. (Had I been a little kid I would have been stomping my feet at this point.) That if I wanted to be really mean I could say that he could not see his dad. That he was really hurting me here. I was annoyed. He stared up at me petulant and angry. I was angry too. We had our tussel. He went into the bathroom to take his shower and I sat on the couch with tears in my eyes. (Again wearing mascara and eye liner so I really did not want to start leaking all over.) I even tried to talk to myself but that feeling, the darkness that kills me started to seep in.
After T’s shower I went into the bathroom. And in the back of my head was go get some pills. How else are you going to be able to do it today? You are hurting and upset. You will never be able to fake it. No one will ever know. I sat down and through blurred eyes I said my affirmations. I stood up and stared at myself in the mirror. Hard. I shook my head. Mentally I gave myself a kick in the ass. And you know what I won. I did not cave. I did not go and buy any pills. Instead, I took a deep breath walked into the living room and sat back down.
T was sitting at the end of my couch and I looked at him. Told him to put his game down and come over to me. Wrapped my arms around him and his face was against my shoulder. I asked him if he still loved me. And he assured me that he did. Than he told me to let go of him because I was squishing his face.  We were getting ready to leave and when I turned around he was wearing just his sweat jacket. Another tussel ensued over putting on the winter coat. It was -24 hello you are wearing a coat to school. He finally gave in and put it on.
As he was zipping up his jacket I explained that we were both probably going to hurt one another, be annoyed with one another and angry at least a thousand more times before he became an adult. He shot me a saucy grin and informed me that it would not be a thousand times more, more like a million. I sorta guffawed and off we went.
On my way to Wal-mart after dropping him off, I was still not feeling it. I was still in my head. Fretting. Worrying that I had been a shitty mom once more. And than I gave myself another talking to.
‘Jay it is passed. You cannot undo what you said. T cannot undo what he said. Did you hurt him, yes. Did he hurt you, yes. But it is over and done with just let it go. Besides you cannot go into work moping and sad. That just will not be allowed. You know that you are grateful for the extra time that you are getting with T. Grateful for the relationship that the two of you of building. Let it go.’
And I did. Whipped into Wal-mart and found myself a pair of new work pants. Sat in the car until about 9:15 texting with K because it was way too early to go in. When I did go in I went upstairs to drop my jacket off and went into the bathroom. As I came out I could hear some staff talking in the staff room. Yesterday it was in the Winnipeg Sun that there had been two unexplained deaths in our city. We are very safe and of course there is a large amount of speculation and gossip. As I walked by I heard someone say ‘well only someone with a mental illness would do that.’ I stopped dead in my tracks and waited a moment more to see what else was going to be said. Than went in and got water before heading downstairs. Needless to say there was a sudden shift in conversation.
With T being at his dad’s this evening I decided that I would treat myself to fresh salmon. At work we have salmon in a bakeable bag with different butter pucks in to melt as it cooks. I love the garlic parsley and the fact that I can bake it in the bag! Along with salad because what else do I eat with my dinner. It was a hard thing for me to type to admit that I felt that blackness creep back up. Yet I am proud that I did not give in. It is not something that I can just beat and forget about. I spent many a year using pills when I was hurt and sad. Bored and unchallenged. Angry. Running from my emotions.
With a million times more of hurt and anger and arguements with T, there will be a lot more times that that voice raises its nasty little head. When it does I will not give in. I will look at myself in the mirror and see this new woman. This new strong brave woman who has been at the bottom of the pit and found a way to climb out.  This woman will not tolerate that voice any longer. Not even if it tries to suck me in a million times more.
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