Writer

I knew what I wanted to be as a teenager, when I grew up. I knew it in Grade One when I wrote my first story.

I wanted to be a writer.

What I did not know than, there is no wanting to be a writer, it is who I am.

***I wrote this while I was writing a journal entry. I had goose bumps when I realized the validity of that statement.****

I did it!

Yesterday was a huge success day for me.  I can acknowledge how far I have come now. And it is huge. I am doing the happy dance while sitting on the couch as I type this I am so excited.
I am a planner. Time and structure has a lot to do with it because I can than make sure that I am in control. Nothing can blindside me. T is much like me in this regard as was evidenced when he got mad at me because, wait for it, I did not wake him up at 6 a.m. on Saturday morning. Much pouting and anger were shown. Refusal to shower because he had to shower at 6. Within about 15 minutes, I was pretty tired of the #6 and a.m. Finally I looked at him and said: T, I understand that you are angry with me because I did not wake you up at 6. You are disappointed in me. I accept that but nothing is going to change the fact that I did not wake you up so please let us just move on from this.’
He was not happy with me at all. Whether he thought that if I fought with him I would yell and he could feel justified in his anger, or I really don’t know, but he glared at me his mouth pursed. I finally heard from M that they were up and told T that he needed to get ready. This was his sleepover day with his bff K. I think both boys live for these saturdays more than anything else. He stomped around here and snapped that he had no pants to put on. No socks. I went to the laundry basket and in seconds found what he was looking for. Than he tried to tell me that the socks I had brought him were mine.
I went out to the car and started it. I had not used it since Friday morning and it was -15 with a real feel of -26. Celsius. Came back into the house as T came out of the bathroom. A transformation had been performed. His hair was brushed. His teeth were brushed. He looked neat and tidy. He smelled good without it being overbearing. (He is 9 with an obsession for Axe) He looked at me and smiled sweetly. I awaited the angry boy to return but within seconds it was apparent that he had switched into sweet cherub mode.
We left the house at 9:26. Went to Mcdonald’s where T commented on the service. He is very bothered by what he views as a lack of service at the one Mcdonald’s we have in a city of over 15,000. I realized that the Hold button was flashing on the panel. This was not good. I told T that it was on and that we might have to make alternate arrangements. We were chatting away and I was okay when doing up to 80km/hour when I realized that the car was not shifting. We made it to Mitchell and pulled into the gas station parking lot.
I shot a text off to the Ex and than got out of the car to check fluids. I figured that I should make sure that the oil and transmission fluid were both alright and they were. I called M in a slight panic and told her what was going on. Wondered if she could come and pick T up and than I would drive out Sunday a.m. to pick him up. Except that the Ex had text back. He was up. And we could take the car to his place and he would scan it for me. I sent a quick text off to M saying to hold off I might still be able to drive T out.
Off we went to the Ex’s. T and me talking and listening as the engine is reving at 4000 rpm’s and I am cringing. I dropped back down to 80 in a 100 zone and tootled along. Got to the Ex’s and waited while he scanned the car. And it wasn’t working. I got into the backseat and text M to give her and update. T told Ex that he had not been to school all week. That he had been sick. And I projected my fear that the Ex was going to call my mothering skills into account, that I immediately listed off all of T’s symptoms. The Ex didn’t even say a word, and I realized it was me. I am T’s mother and I would know if he was scamming me. I can make these decisions without having to feel that it is wrong.
The Ex finally realized that he had the wrong ‘key’ for the scanner and retrieved the right one. Up came the code for Coolant Temperature Sensor. And when he cleared the code, the car shifted down and it was hoped that I could now drive without concern. I do need to call around and find the sensor and pricing but we were good to go. By now it is 10:30, the time that I had hoped that I was going to be dropping T off. Shot M a text and said we were off. And we were and the car shifted into overdrive. Wohoo, I told T (I Had already profusely thanked the Ex) to send his dad a text and tell him that he is the most awesome and again thank you. T says I already did before we left mom.
I was a little nervous at first but as the car continued to behave, I became a more and more confident. We were cruising along. I made the cloverleaf onto the perimeter coolly and calmly. Taking the cloverleaf off onto the #1 to head into M’s, it suddenly dawned on me. I had done it. Today I had been thrown a loop and I came through it without breaking down. I did it.
First my time line had been thrown off. I had it in my head that we would leave at 9:30, there by 10:30 back by 11:30. Finish cleaning the apartment by 12:30 and rest of time was my own to do what I wanted. Now I was an hour behind. I had gotten a little snappy when I again projected that T was going to blame me for the car failure. So I apologized to him. T looked at me incredulously and said mom you did not do this.’
Than I had called M to ask her come and get T rather than texting and fretting waiting for her to get back to me. Texting the Ex I had not expected that he would get back to me until later in the day. That he did and was willing to scan the car for me was an added bonus. The car acting up in the first place. Reading that one should not be shifting gears as it could damage the engine and hoping that mine was not about to blow up. That it is something easy to fix.
Before I would have been in a tailspin. My entire day would have been skewed because of all these things. Yesterday though, yes, there was a brief moment of accelerated heart rate, I was a little sweaty. I did not cry. I did not rage. I did not blame things on the unseen or think that the world was out to get me. I handled it. I had a plan and I followed through. And I cheered for myself.
I told T as we sat at the light and he said you know what mom, you are right. You did a great job.
And there we have it.
I did a great job. I took a huge step. I can see a difference and I am loving it.

Cyclical

I cannot believe how idiotic I am.
As I am driving to the doctor’s office I realize my depression feeds my addiction which in turn fuels my depression.
I am sitting here a lot stunned. Maybe for everyone else it seems really simple however it is an epiphany for me. I need more help than I am able to provide for myself.
Admittedly my anxiety at the moment is through the charts. I took my blood pressure before coming and it was 116/83. As I sit here I can feel my heart racing. My hands are shaking.
I have only ever asked for help with my depression three times. The first time was when I received an actual diagnosis and was put onto medication. Second time was three and a half years ago. And now today.
In my mind though I keep thinking what if no one believes me? What if my claim is denied? What if they do not believe this is serious enough to warrant my taking time off?
I am not suppose to do this. I have had several people tell me to take one step at a time. This is another symptom: I have to control or have answers for everything. For myself, my mind is so chaotic that I need something to focus on that I have control over.
I need help. There is no waffling. No trying to downplay this situation. And I have to believe that I will get it.

I had an epiphany

This morning I was having a conversation with a friend. I know I often have conversations but this one, this one got me to thinking.

I am a fixer. A ‘Give me your problems and I will find a solution’, type of woman. Does not matter who you are or what the problem is, by nature, I want to make it all better for you. And now my brain has veered off into how the hell did I become a fixer? Why do I yearn to take on the world’s problems and make them right? Why (until now) did I always chose men who needed their hands held at every turn?

Small problems (which are not even problems) such as helping someone locate a hard to find item. Trying to put their fears to rest when attempting something new. My response to that is always the same, ‘Imagine the absolute worst thing that could happen and after that anything that occurs is going to be a piece of cake. Walk in the park. Cake in the park.’ You get it.

Larger problems can take up a lot of my time. I mull over them. I twist it this way and that. Looking for the hole that I can wiggle through. The hole that is going to lead to the answer, or at least a partial solution.

This is draining. My focus is no longer on myself, on my care and T’s. It becomes super stressful. In the past my way to handle it would have been to drink.

Today as I was having my conversation I made a sudden connection. And that connection leapt along the synapsis of my brain and made more connections. Until I stopped watching the gems fall and turned to face my friend. I wanted to shout this discovery from the rooftops, however that would require getting dressed and I am just not up for that at the moment.

I have a friend who is going through a really tough time. When I look at her life, I am surprised that she is still standing. The amount of shit life has thrown her way, and the fact that she is here, present and alive, amazes me. She is an absolute rock, one of the strongest women that I am privileged to have as a part of my tribe.

She text me early this morning and I was reading over them, giving half explanations without betraying her confidence in me and it happened.

I am not put on this earth to be the caretaker of anyone else. (Well with the exception of T but that should go without saying.)

It is not up to me to scoop up the troubles that plague the world. It is not up to me to point out how by taking a step over this way, could change how you view things. It is not up to me, to fix the problems that they come to me with.

What is up to me?

To be a damn good friend. To offer my shoulder and my ear. To listen and at the same time when I speak, to be wise and offer up my own experience and solution to an equatable problem.  Something that they can mull over themselves and it might help them to find the solution to their own issues. Or it may not.

Another part of this rebounds from a conversation that K3 and me were having. In it she stated that she felt we were brought into people’s lives so they can benefit from our experiences. I disagreed. We can tell people about what occurred but they are still going to make their own choices based on their own morals and life experience. Not ours.

What do we learn if we take all the advice others give us?

And that is another part of the epiphany which just came to me.

I am a big believer in learning my own lessons. No matter the pain that I am going to feel, I will face what I need to do. (Now I do, previously I may have stuck my head in the sand before facing my problems)

I need to speak less and listen more.

I need to be a friend, a warm hug, a place to shelter without compromising my emotional well-being. And I can be.

Because as I journey forward along the twisted path that my life is, I learn more and more about my role and place on this planet.

🙂