I had a long session with George - more crying.
I said in the session "If you were to tie all the rope together in all of the world - it wouldn't reach half way to how very low I am"
And I honestly believe that right now.
George's pager went off. Another client waiting to see him.
"Where are you off to now?" George asked
"My Mom's" I said, bottom lip trembling.
Why had I agreed to this? After these 2 tough appointments - I was spent and didn't want to do anything apart from going home. Now I was willingly putting myself in my Mom's line of fire.
George grimaced "Argh" he said. He knows more about my family - and my dealings with them - than anyone in the world.
"Do you think you're up for it?" he asked, concern all over his dear, sweet face.
"Honestly? Nope. But Mom is trying. She wants to help, she just doesn't understand. There is a doorway there for healing and hope...so I have to try" I answered.
George nodded "I'm proud of you, Janet" he said. He rarely says that.
It meant the world to me.
I bussed over to Mom's house. She wasn't home. Mom was shopping in the city.
FFS. Mom!!!
I waited in the cold and the rain for Mom to arrive home. Thankfully it was only about 15 minutes.
This could really go either way. I wanted to meet up with Mom to say I'm not okay. I'm not jumping up and down (MOM!!!) and I'm really, really struggling. I need Mom to stop quoting Oprah and Tim Robbins to me and to just be my Mom - just love me and support me while I go through these crazy medication tests and trials and try to feel better.
My Mom can either be outraged and really angry about it - thinking I'm wasting her time and just being an idiot - or she can change and she can try to help me. I'm hoping with all my heart for the latter.
I was going to "put all my cards on the table" and this was a HUGE risk - but if the payoff (Mom stopping her weird, random 'advice' and just being there for me) worked, then it was going to be worth it.
Long story short - the risk was worth it.
I cried. I told Mom how badly I was suffering. She cried too and held my hand and although I can tell a lot of the medical background to depression that I tried to gently and simply explain went over her head, she was trying her best to just be there for me.
"But what about jumping up and down, then?" Mom asked gently - hopefully - after I'd poured out my heart to her.
OMG Mom. If you try to get me to JUMP again, I will stab you with the nearest implement to me. I looked - it was a folded up napkin. I was so angry and so frustrated, I would have given it a shot.
"Mom...the Doctor has said it's not about doing things - it's about sorting my head and body out medically"
Mom doesn't understand a lot of things, but the word "Doctor" - she reveres and regards very highly.
"Ok"
Mom nodded. I could tell in her dear sweet face that she was struggling to understand. My Mom is a very visual woman. I had no scars or body parts missing or limbs severed so she was really struggling to grasp what on earth was wrong with me when of course, I look absolutely fine.
"I know I don't have any cuts or bruises Mom - but I swear to God, I'm in a lot of pain" I tried to explain
"I don't understand it" Mom admitted "But I want you to know I love you. You're my Janny. I will come with you tomorrow and ask the Doctor questions. He will help me understand"
Ok.
So my Mom at least is trying.
No word from my Dad and my brother has blocked me...but my Mom is trying.
I can't feel or connect to how great this is - but somewhere within me, it's making a difference. I hope.
Thank you, Father God. I'm so grateful.
Please be with us both tomorrow.
I said in the session "If you were to tie all the rope together in all of the world - it wouldn't reach half way to how very low I am"
And I honestly believe that right now.
George's pager went off. Another client waiting to see him.
"Where are you off to now?" George asked
"My Mom's" I said, bottom lip trembling.
Why had I agreed to this? After these 2 tough appointments - I was spent and didn't want to do anything apart from going home. Now I was willingly putting myself in my Mom's line of fire.
George grimaced "Argh" he said. He knows more about my family - and my dealings with them - than anyone in the world.
"Do you think you're up for it?" he asked, concern all over his dear, sweet face.
"Honestly? Nope. But Mom is trying. She wants to help, she just doesn't understand. There is a doorway there for healing and hope...so I have to try" I answered.
George nodded "I'm proud of you, Janet" he said. He rarely says that.
It meant the world to me.
I bussed over to Mom's house. She wasn't home. Mom was shopping in the city.
FFS. Mom!!!
I waited in the cold and the rain for Mom to arrive home. Thankfully it was only about 15 minutes.
This could really go either way. I wanted to meet up with Mom to say I'm not okay. I'm not jumping up and down (MOM!!!) and I'm really, really struggling. I need Mom to stop quoting Oprah and Tim Robbins to me and to just be my Mom - just love me and support me while I go through these crazy medication tests and trials and try to feel better.
My Mom can either be outraged and really angry about it - thinking I'm wasting her time and just being an idiot - or she can change and she can try to help me. I'm hoping with all my heart for the latter.
I was going to "put all my cards on the table" and this was a HUGE risk - but if the payoff (Mom stopping her weird, random 'advice' and just being there for me) worked, then it was going to be worth it.
Long story short - the risk was worth it.
I cried. I told Mom how badly I was suffering. She cried too and held my hand and although I can tell a lot of the medical background to depression that I tried to gently and simply explain went over her head, she was trying her best to just be there for me.
"But what about jumping up and down, then?" Mom asked gently - hopefully - after I'd poured out my heart to her.
OMG Mom. If you try to get me to JUMP again, I will stab you with the nearest implement to me. I looked - it was a folded up napkin. I was so angry and so frustrated, I would have given it a shot.
"Mom...the Doctor has said it's not about doing things - it's about sorting my head and body out medically"
Mom doesn't understand a lot of things, but the word "Doctor" - she reveres and regards very highly.
"Ok"
Mom nodded. I could tell in her dear sweet face that she was struggling to understand. My Mom is a very visual woman. I had no scars or body parts missing or limbs severed so she was really struggling to grasp what on earth was wrong with me when of course, I look absolutely fine.
"I know I don't have any cuts or bruises Mom - but I swear to God, I'm in a lot of pain" I tried to explain
"I don't understand it" Mom admitted "But I want you to know I love you. You're my Janny. I will come with you tomorrow and ask the Doctor questions. He will help me understand"
Ok.
So my Mom at least is trying.
No word from my Dad and my brother has blocked me...but my Mom is trying.
I can't feel or connect to how great this is - but somewhere within me, it's making a difference. I hope.
Thank you, Father God. I'm so grateful.
Please be with us both tomorrow.
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