A Lot For Which to Be Grateful

We returned from India on Saturday. I was back in the office by Tuesday. And yesterday was Thanksgiving, and I had a full house of company, friends and family.

The trip to India is always a difficult journey, but this time things seemed much smoother and idyllic. We attended a family wedding, and I really connected even more deeply with my mother-in-law, who is truly someone very very special. 

I was very organized for the holiday and the Maharajah is a great help-mate, so much so, he's like the other half of my brain, and we function like a solid unit. We had everything set up in the morning, and by the time I went to bed, I was one more load of dishes away from having everything completely cleaned up. When I woke up, I realized that M had broken down and put away our banquet table, and he quipped, "It's as if Thanksgiving never happened."

All in all, it's a worthwhile expenditure of energy and planning. Everyone involved truly looks forward to getting together, and catching up. And most importantly to me is that everyone is comfortable and accommodated. The true litmus test is to see my brother-in-law, who normally is a bit standoffish with my family (meaning, my birth family, mom's side in particular), and see him actively engaged in conversation and enjoying everyone's company--and likewise, they all look forward to seeing my sister, bil, and niece. 

I'm glad that it's been 16 months since my sister and I have reconciled, and so far, it looks like it's working. To my knowledge, my mother still doesn't know that we have reconciled. 

My brother continues to fail and flail along--and no, I don't include him in Thanksgiving. I exclude him, not out of cruelty; however, it's more a practical decision on several levels. He is entirely too big for the space, destructive, negative, and crude; and I am trying to distance myself from my past and carve out a new life and new experiences. I carefully curate who is included and what foods get served.

I have a lot to be grateful for: reasonably goodish health, a healthy husband, a roof over my head, food in my belly with enough happiness and food to share with loved ones, happy for the reconciliation with my sister, happy to have a broad range of experiences that take me to different hemispheres on this planet. 

My life is full.

We returned on Saturday from India and I held off on calling mom, because Thanksgiving was coming up and I didn't want to do 2 calls in one week. I held off on calling her in the morning yesterday as I didn't want her to taint my mood. I waited until everyone left and I called before it got too late. 

I keep the conversation on surface level stuff. I don't get too deep anymore, not that she ever DID deep before. And before I knew it, she was giving me the bum's rush to get off the phone. I don't give her drama. I don't talk to anyone who drums up drama. So she has no use for me.

Turns out no one visited her on the holiday, not even my brother who had nothing else going on. And while part of me felt sad about that, I quickly planted the thought in my head "it's her choice." It's her choice to remain at Shady Pines. It's her choice to continue to withdraw from people. It's her choice to be alone and lonely in a building full of other souls. It's her choice to do absolutely nothing about her depression and mindset. 

I'm thankful that I called her. Thankful to be reminded of what I DO NOT want for my own life. 

It's just a weird thing though, this "in-between" stage she is in. It's not like she's in a coma or on life support. She's fully functioning in many ways. But over the last 20-25 years, she's gradually given up on life--even more so after dad died. So it's weird seeing her become a ghost, yet still possess a human form--again, it's a choice. 

Life is short--we should live and eat and love and learn and and and... for as long as we are able. Use up every molecule of our being until there is nothing left. Not do what mom is doing, which is akin to taking abundance and just letting it sit and rot, and THAT, imho is not a life well-lived. 

October: Beginning & Ending

Where we left off in October—

After my last post, I spent the weekend at the Jersey Shore and very very glad that the thrust of my  visit was not focused on my mom, as I’d only be disappointed.

I swung by Shady Pines for a visit with Audrey. I itially there was a cascade of crocodile tears—all for show, and within 30 minutes it was as if she was hiving me the bum’s rush.

She sat there is a semi-stupor with dead eyes and no interest. She really has no room for complaint given: 1. It was her decision to go to Shady Pines, despite everyone’s input to go elsewhere; and 2. It was her decision to give up on living a life outside a nursing home. She has no fortitude and in the end isn’t independent, and I guess this works for her paradigm she has constructed, a life where everyone needs to go TO her without any expectation of it being reciprocated.

This is merely the end game of a process that has been on-going for the last 25 years, where mom has gradually, consistently, opted out of, well, putting herself OUT/OUT THERE at all.

I no sooner got outside to my car, when she started to call others to shred me behind my back, “You’ll never guess WHO cane to visit without calling first!” Given the fact that she has a designated shower day during the week, it isn’t like she could have freshened up before the visit, so I fail to see what the problem is. Guess what? There are residents at Shady Pines who have no one at all to visit them, who I feel confident would RELISH a visit, even from a stranger.

Later that weekend, I was visiting with a cousin, who inquired how my visit went. I laid out, honestly,  how it went and even detailed that it is a difficult thing to deal with someone with depression, and incapable of being happy. I also detailed how, at the age of 50, I am trying not to concern myself with watching my words or actions to make others feel more comfortable, when it is obvious through THEIR  words and actions, that they don’t care about MY comfort. (This point will be reiterated or re-experienced at the end of the month).

Towards the end of October, things took a turn at work. TBH, I didn't know if I was about to be fired or arrested.

Turns out the Fartiste reported me to my bosses after I made small talk with her. Now WHY yap to her in the first place? 

All my life i have been cultivated to try to make my tormentors more comfortable—in this case I worried she felt left out of the love fest between me and the younger secretary (who treats me like her mentor), so, in August, I engaged the Fartiste in idle chit chat, talking about something (I have come to find out) I shouldn't have, but in peripheral terms, nothing of substance. Mind you, the Fartiste handles the same type of proceedings in our office and a little bit of good will in the form of a heads up would have been lovely. 

SPOILER ALERT: She didn’t want to just get me to lose my job, but also my very freedom. 

So I got called into the director’s office, and her opening line was, “You DO realize it is a felony to disclose anything right?), so yeah, terrorized me right from the get-go. Fortunately, the discussion was more along the lines of an FYI type of thing to protect me; however, at the time, I was so utterly shocked, it caught me off balance and distracted me to the point where I didn't think to ask who reported me--despite the obvious choice.

My tipping point has been met. I’ve decided I need to change therapists, and see one who focuses on schema therapy.

So, I held my water (such as it is) until TODAY, and thought I'd finally be able to talk to my current therapist about this. Sadly, my current therapist is dealing with a gastroesophageal junction cancer diagnosis and started chemo right around the time shit went sideways for me at work, and despite my request to inform me via a text on my cell phone (as I wouldn't be in the office to retrieve my emails until AFTER our designated appointment time), he EMAILED me instead of texting me. So yeah, that fills me with MEH, the idea I rushed to get out of the house an hour earlier than normal to sit in my car and wait for a phone in session that was not to be. I'll blame it on chemo brain. He's got bigger issues than my bullshit with which to contend.

So my refrain from the beginning of the month is on the sidelines, showing me in living vivid color that this person is evil, and isn’t worth my time, courtesy or energy (to devote to merely THINKING of her).

I have been out of the office for two whole weeks, having spent an idyllic visit with my in-laws, and started to actually feel REFRESHED or somewhat RESTORED, and then I had to do something I dreaded: RETURN TO THE OFFICE TODAY. I was greeted enthusiastically by several people, one of whom I didn't anticipate (the #2 guy in our office); and the Fartise remained consistently nonplussed by my presence, and didn't utter a "hello" or "welcome back" or anything else of the sort.  

This all has been a huge wake up call--and I've had smaller ones too recently. After spending close to $8K to visit family in India, an uncle replied how we should visit more frequently (despite us visiting every two years). And my first response is to get ticked that we already ARE visiting them, and they want MORE. And the Maharajah's response is that I should look at things from another perspective--that these people love me and want to spend MORE time with me to love me some more.

I acknowledge that I am broken and I need help. And whether my current therapist gets back to me so we can have that discussion or not, I WILL get the help I need to do what I need to do to break out of this cycle.