The Accidental Kindness of Strangers

Yesterday I backed into a car while attempting to get into a parking space.

I got out of my car and we looked at the damage. I had dented and cracked his bike rack. No damage to mine. The man wasn’t very nice and actually said, “You’re not going to skip out on this are you?” He stated this in several different ways several times. The nerve!

Side Note: I did not have a terrible reaction the way I used to when I did something wrong. My eyes only filled with tears and lips quivered. Almost, but not quite, my face began to crumple into “oh god I’m going to cry” phase. Honestly I’m not ashamed of any of that. I think that would be a normal reaction to an unpleasant situation.

While standing there trying to keep my calm, I felt a hand on my shoulder and it was the director of the event I was working. He asked if I was alright. He had such a genuine look of concern, a few more tears leaked out. He asked if I needed to go home he would understand. I said I would be alright and he gave me a hug.

On my way into the event someone else approached me to ask how I was and she gave me a hug.

Half way through the event a volunteer checked in to see if I needed anything and I got another hug.

When the event was over the director came by again and I thanked him . I said I couldn’t believe how kind everyone was and how much it meant to me that I wasn’t standing there in the middle of the street alone.

This maybe a bit dramatic, but it was human nature, as it could be and was that in that moment.

This accident was no accident. The more I think about it, to experience kindness and worth as a human being, well, was worth the deductible.

hi·a·tus

A pause or gap in a sequence, series, or process.

I don’t want to write about my relationship with my oldest daughter again. Let’s just say that after 8 years it is the same. I see my two grandchildren about a couple of times a year.

It’s taken me three or four of the 5 years to make peace with it. It’s been tenacity, therapy, good friends, my son and ketamine that has enabled me to live with it.

Now my other daughter, the youngest, has caused me more stress and heart ache, because it has gone on for most of her life.

I can actually admit now that I have been emotionally abused by her. She is not a narcissist like my ex husband and my mother. I think she has borderline personality disorder. Since she is my child I hung in there through it all while dragging her to every kind of professional under the sun because she was clearly unhappy (which is what I thought).

Last year she began texting me and wanted to get together. I hadn’t heard from her in a year, not from lack of trying on my part. It was wonderful! It’s like this person was behaving in a way I had never experienced with her. She would come over for dinner about once a month and we watched Sherlock and Vampire movies…not sure how we got on that one, but it was fun and I could finally love her in a real way.

I’m not completely delusional. I was puzzled by this new and improved child. Maybe I was pushing away the probably end to it with screaming, yelling and unfounded accusations from her. I was a bit tentative giving too much of myself emotionally to the situation, but it was so lovely while it lasted.

First she cancelled Christmas with us. I hid how disappointed I really was “walking on eggshells” kind of thing. We had never spent Christmas apart. Fast forward to early May, that was the last time I saw her. I did get a “I’m fine” text in late July when I asked her if I should file a missing persons report. I texted her on and off since then. The usual things. Memes, videos of the cats, silly stories, etc.

Last Sunday I called my son to see if he had heard from her. He said no. A couple of hours later I got a text from him saying “I’m Alive”. So he had texted her, I don’t know the extent of the conversation, but I know he doesn’t have patience for the way she treats us.

Another hour went by and I got a text from her “I’ve blocked you”.

This caused a familiar reaction. I had been blocked by my sister and my oldest daughter during the hardest time of my life when I divorced my husband. The reaction was that horrible pain in my chest followed by uncontrollable sobbing. This time though I got myself together within minutes instead of 30 which it usually takes.

I rummaged around in my head to figure out how I was feeling. This was new. How did I feel? I went to bed. The next morning rummaged some more trying to pinpoint this strange non-reaction.

Before I left for work I wrote on the back of an envelope “this could be a good thing because now I don’t have to worry about her and take all the abuse”.

By the time I got to work I felt so strong and relived about another rejection from another daughter. Finally I could say “NO” to this, That feeling lasted all day.

I saw my therapist that afternoon and she could see the difference in my reaction. She has always given me advice that makes me feel either real with the way I process things or gives me clues as to how I can see it differently. She was really positive and then she slipped in something like “While you are taking this hiatus from her it will be good to….” can’t remember the rest.

I was disappointed that she had said “while”. Just her saying it broke that wall down a little bit knowing that it is just a matter of time that I won’t be able to keep up this persona. It’s not me, I’m her mother.

I’m not thinking about it now though. I figure if she needs anything she can go to her brother, sister or dad. I’m checked out for now. I may just block her. That would feel so good until I unblock her 10 minutes later.

Revised definition: hi·a·tus: A pause or gap of emotional reactions to my estranged daughters.

Ruminating

Today, I began to read my blog posts from the beginning. I’ve been avoiding it because I’m not sure what I will find and how they will make me feel.  Scrolling down (a long way down) I didn’t expect to arrive at 2012.

I feel I must read them because there is such a wide gap between when I stopped writing and now. It’s like I’m reading them for the first time (I have a terrible memory).

I started my blog to express myself after learning I had Bipolar 2.  I stopped writing for a long time because of several reasons, mostly depression.  All I could focus on was staying alive all while looking like nothing was wrong.

I’ve only read three or four early posts so far; they made me smile.  The progression of my life from 2017 until now is sad and I’m not looking forward to reading those. 

I still am not allowed to see my grandchildren and the four-year anniversary of when this nightmare began is this September 8th.

I realized recently that I didn’t even know the word ruminate existed until my daughter banished me from her life. It’s very hard for me to avoid ruminating, especially when I don’t understand, been given no information and I do not have any control. Sometimes it feels like a physical battle, and it has a mind of its own, a separate entity that keeps creeping in when I least expect it.

I am getting on my feet again though

My therapist says that while this has been and is still terrible and there is no explanation for the alienation of my grandchildren, being better with the ketamine helps me not fall off that cliff so regularly.

I was, and am, a good mother. I should ruminate on that.

Another Ketamine Update

Update on my last Ketamine fusion and how it has changed my life.  I could really stop there; that says it all. 

Let me step away for a minute and count the exact days on my calendar hanging on my fridge dedicated to my depression free days from infusion to infusion.  33 days.

I try to keep in mind that ketamine is a treatment, not a cure.  I remind myself that I still have bipolar 2 and Treatment Resistant Depression (TRD).  When I remind myself of that, I think of it for a minute and then push it away. 

Occasionally, I have what I call a “dip” (my old name and feeling was “falling off a cliff”) thank God that hasn’t happened since the treatment started working. That sense of dread when a dip moment occurs, and I don’t know the reason for it.  My poor old brain leaps right to “it’s back”.

I think I’ve found an explanation. I don’t know what emotions people with healthy brains feel.  I give it some thought and come up with a few reasons.

Most likely it’s stress. Stress has always been a killer for me. 

It could be from working too much and anxiety from that. 

Worrying about money (definitely).

I’ll keep writing about the ketamine, but I really want to start writing about my day-to-day things again. My posts have been so heavy for a long time they need a little nonsense.