Hopeful

I am sitting here playing Clockmaker on my phone moving into my daily mode. As I am my mind is aimlessly wandering around and I keep touching down on one small thing.

Mom is home June 9th. T is getting out of school and we are going to pick her up at the airport. Now I have not seen her in nigh on 3 years. Neither has my brother. I have not seen my brother in almost 5 years. There are things. And the SIL.

I received a text from mom asking me to think of a place that she, the brother, T and I plus assuming SIL and family for breakfast the day she arrived. My response was visceral. My heart began to race. I began to shake. Tears formed in my eyes. And I shot off a text to mom saying no can do.

Mom had forgotten. Which I now realize I need to take into consideration. Sorry mom it happens to us all. I forget things all the time. All the time. Yesterday not only did I lose my work keys-did find those-and my work sweater. Never found that.

I am very concerned that the brother is going to disregard my wishes as relayed via mom. It would not surprise me. Same with her brother. While I cannot plan for it, will not plan for it, it is a worry in the back of my mind.

I have worked very hard to rid myself of the things I did to harm myself. Pills. 1460 days clean. Alcohol. 655 days sober. The trauma that contributed to these behaviours was faced. To the extent my brain allows and which I have said before I am thankful for.

I was taken to task for the near overdose in 2017 that put me on the path to recovering my truth and self. I was ignored and berated when mom fell ill and the brother needed to fly out there to see to her. I understand he was in a position to do so. I was not. However there is a thing called respect and talking things through but nope.

I am hoping with writing my fears out and addressing them that I can set these worries aside. I can hope that both the brother and mom’s will respect that I am picking her up and we are coming home to get her settled.

I am hoping.

May 5/22

No News is Good News

On Thursday, first thing, I had a wee bit of a melt down.
Now granted, in part it was because they forgot to pay me 6 hours of holiday time which made a noticeable difference in my paycheque.
It was such a simple fix and the money was in my account by yesterday afternoon.
However it spiralled out from there.
M called me and listened to me rant and rave.
Cry.
Howl. (a little not in anyway discernable save for to me)
And it hit me.
I was sucking up too much of the negative.
Too much of the fear and anger that surrounds us.
It is a life force in and of itself and I was touching upon it without realizing what I was doing.
I am an empath.
I do not know how to control it.
I do not even know much about it other than I pick up on strong emotions and absorb how a person is feeling.
I siphon off a little of their panic/fear/pain/anger to help them.
Again no idea how.
I believe that given how much I have been reading about the convoy, how passionate I am about the injustices I am seeing before me, it makes sense that I am picking up on this overwhelming sense of righteousness and anger without meaning to.
It has drained me.
Made me jumpy.
A little more prone to anger.
It was during my conversation with M that I realized this.
A decision was made.
No news day.
Nothing.
Was not even going to talk about it.
Put the word out.
And it worked.
Maybe too the incident on Wednesday morning had bothered me a lot more than I realized at the time.
I woke up yesterday morning feeling really good.
I felt refreshed.
I was full of energy.
T did not like my ‘Lucky Ducky’ song that I was singing to him because school was again cancelled so he gets a 4 day weekend.
Monday is a holiday.
I felt so good that I decided to extend my no news day by one more day.
I woke up at 5 this morning.
Again I felt really good.
Still do.
I scrolled the headlines.
I did not click.
Not on the ones that are full of anger.
Not on the ones that show the full idiocy on display.
I clicked on fluff pieces.
And one other piece but I need to percolate on it as I want to write about it.
Wednesday evening T and me spent an hour sitting on the couch, talking and laughing.
We were at either end facing one another.
I was telling him the story about when I stretched my jaw and heard something tear.
He thought I pulled a muscled given that it was sore for a few days after.
Poor lad inherited my small mouth.
The dentist finds it very hard to work in either of our mouths given that we cannot open as wide as they would like us to.
That is neither here nor there but it lead to T thinking that maybe that that is what we had to do to get our mouths to open wider, pull the muscle.
In perfect harmony we both opened our mouths in the exact same shape to see if we could open them any wider.
We laughed until tears fell.
©Feb. 19/22
***That picture is 2 years old. We need to update it.
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