Friday, October 21, 2011

I will be rising from the ground ....

I've spent the last few weeks really trying to figure out how not to be so angry at my sister.  I think the biggest thing for me is that she didn't listen to my side (via the letter).  I don't know why, but when that letter was out there in the wind, being read or not, it didn't bother me because there was a chance she would read it.  Now that I know it hurts.

But ultimately, I have no choice but to put her behind me, put the book she wrote up on the shelf (as it were), and let go of my anger.  So that is what I'm doing.

I've been writing a lot and keeping all those thoughts to myself, so it can be my work.  I'm been going to a lot of Bikram Yoga.  I'm still seeing my therapist. 

I'm also spending more time with friends, making sure to call people I love and check in and meeting girlfriends for lunch and shopping.  I need those "sisters" in my life, because I'm never really going to have that with my own related sister.  So I am making those connections elsewhere. 

I also have to keep reminding myself that my sister paid for about 400 books to be published and she was screwed over by her publishing house and they only published about 40 books.  So in the entire world of almost 7 billion people, there are only 40 copies of her book.  Maybe 75 people have read it in the entire world.  So that is something.  The last I heard she was going to try and sue her publisher and agent.  So 75 people read things about me.  I have to remember that that and then let it go.

I've always told myself I don't care what people think.  And I really don't, but I obviously did care what my sister thought and I was hurt that she thought so little of me. 

There is one other thing that has helped me through, and that is making sure I work every day to get the anger out of me until it's all gone.  I've been writing, painting, singing, and there is a song that I heard about two weeks ago that makes me cry every time I hear it.  It has become my mantra, of sorts, during this time in my life.

I don't normally subscribe to pop-rock and the young girl singers, like Miley, etc., but I heard "Skyscaper" by Demi Lovato.  My daughter loves this girl and I read some about her and she's been through a lot shit. 

The words to the song are amazing and they remind me everyday that though that book tore me down, I'm going to get over it.  Words are just words.  They are not me, they do not define me and I know my life and my story and I will hold my own truth and I will honor that. 

You can take everything I have
You can break everything I am
Like I'm made of glass
Like I'm made of paper
Go on and try to tear me down
I will be rising from the ground
Like a skyscraper

~Demi Lovato

Friday, September 30, 2011

The cruelty of dementia

It's been a couple weeks (almost) since my mom fell and the hoopla happened. I called my mom a few times the weekend after it happened and left her messages. Then I called her last weekend and she answered. I asked her how she was and she said things have been crazy and she hasn't been doing very well, but she's better now.

I asked her what happened and she replied "I fell a few times last week and was in the hospital."

"You fell again?" I asked.

"No, just last week. I had to have a colonoscopy and the stuff they gave me to get ready made me SO sick." She replied.

"You had another colonoscopy?" I asked.

"No, never again."

"So when did you fall?" I ask, getting confused.

"A few days ago, but your sister came over and checked on me and took me to the hospital. They ran some tests, but I'm fine." She says.

"So you were in the hospital AGAIN?" I'm practically yelling, because I feel like she's not hearing me.

"No just a few days ago." And my mom proceeds to tell me the whole story of her tests, her bad reaction to the meds, her falling, and everything that happened all over again, like I didn't know about it and like it had just happened a few days before.

It finally hit me in that moment - this the beginning of her dementia.

We all knew my mom was forgetful, she forgot where she parked her car in the mall parking lot and security would drive her around until she found it. If you told me mom a story about something that happened, she would tell it back to you (incredibly embellished) the next day like it happened to someone else. When you said, "yea, I told you this yesterday" she would reply "No you didn't. I heard this from so and so."

And that was that. I found it easier to just listen that to argue.

She had a brain hemorraghe two years ago and spent some time in the neuro Intensive Care Unit, for surgery and recovery. And now my mom's memory is bad, and she tells wildly crazy versions of simple events that I mentioned to her, and she goes on and on and will argue to the bitter end that she is right. Her memories of things that happened 20 years ago are so twisted up that when she talks about them, I can't make any sense of what she's talking about. Sometimes, it makes me feel like I'm the forgettful one, like I just don't have any clear memories of growing up.  I mean, my mom talks about this stuff like it is Gospel truth and when I question it, she gets upset.  And then we argue, because she really wants me to remember and I just don't. Not the way that she does and then my mom says things that hurt my feelings. Yet, I keep calling because she is my mom.

I realized today that the woman I knew as my mom is gone. I can talk to her now and tell her things, listen to her and laugh with her but as soon as the she hangs up the phone she's either forgotten I called her or refashioned our conversation into another story entirely.

I will never be able to sit on the couch and talk with her for hours (because I get too frustrated and she gets too tired), I will never take her to Ireland to see her family there, and someday I will call her and she won't even know who I am.

This is the part that sucks.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Today, I'm just plain pissed off

So my Facebook posting resulted in a private message from someone who is a good friend of my sister's. She told me that my sister told everyone on FB who asked why we weren't friends anymore that I was upset with her because she and her family were too financially strapped to come to my wedding.

Really?

So now there will always be that who-said-what thing going on. My sister made me look petty and cruel, when I was actually relieved that she wasn't coming to my wedding. It has been difficult for me to even be around her in the last two years and I've been swallowing down my anger every time I see her. I knew her family was having some financial difficulties, though I had no idea how bad. She had told me they might not make it to my wedding and I asked that she give me as much notice as possible so I could re-arrange. She told me three months before.

I suppose the fact that I never replied to her message and then unfriended her on Facebook led her to assume that I was upset that she wasn't coming to the wedding, when in reality, I was just relieved that I didn't have to swallow down more anger while she was around.

But as usual, she spins her own story, much like her memoir, and lies about the people who don't hover around her in orbit. I tried to hover, I really did, but I'm so glad I don't anymore.

The biggest issue today for me is that my mom fell a couple times last week. My sister sent the message to me through my kids (way to be like my ex-husband), and so I called my mom and checked in and then sent an email message to all three of my kids letting them know that they don't need to pass on messages anymore. I told them that I don't want them to be in the middle of another battle. I told them I would call my mom a couple of times a week and keep myself informed about her health and her life.

And not a single one of my kids even replied to my email.

So today, I'm pissed, I'm tired, I'm lonely and I'm wondering why I put myself out there to anyone. Really? I guess I have to admit that subconsciously I wanted to hear soemthing from my kids. Maybe a thanks! Or a "we stand by you, Mom, no matter what." But I got nothing.

Today is one of those days where I would tell my therapist that I'm feeling so out-of-sorts that I want to buy a plane ticket to a far away country and just drop off the map of everyone's lives. Then they can go "hey, where is Rory?" And wonder why I left.

I put far too much of my life in other people hands and hearts. It's time to stop doing that with everybody.