Oh man how I prayed to fall asleep last night. Seriously I would have gotten down on my knees and done the whole shtick from my childhood if it would have helped making the sandman come down and help me out last night.
Alas, I didn’t luck out. I knew with today’s events looming that it wouldn’t be the greatest nights rest ever, but I had hoped for a little more than this.
The thing about anxiety is the anxiety creates symptoms (raised heart rate, jitters, RLS, racing thoughts, panic attacks, sleeplessness, muscle spasms, tension headaches etc) AND those symptoms come right back and cause more anxiety.
I know I haven’t mentioned it much, probably because its such an emotional mess of a situation but my mother has not been a part of my life, pretty much since Little Dude was born. Both due to her mental health complications putting my kids at risk and making my mental health unmanageable (therefore making it harder for me to keep my kids safe and happy) I gave her the ultimatum of getting help and stop relying on self medicating and several coping addictions or we couldn’t be in each others lives.
At that point in time to make the story incredibly shorter, she chose to just cut us out. It was not a clean break, there was much more emotional and mental damage done before we got actual peace from the situation but it did happen. The last year in particular involved only one conversation with her (after a plead from my step father that I was the only one who could help, if that’s not manipulation, I don’t know what is) that could have gone much worse I guess. Until now.
Through the grapevine (aka my middle brother) she heard about my most recent diagnosis and her exact words after I picked up the phone were “You have lupus? I have lupus. Maybe we should talk.”
She seems better. It’s hard to judge over the phone, but she’s remembering conversations, she actually asked about her grandchildren for the first time I can ever recall and she’s willing to connect on my terms this time. So if she’s keeping her side of the bargain that means I should to.
Not that it’s easy. I’ve been an emotional mess about the topic for the last couple weeks. Last night by far the worst of it, Mr. Mango patiently listened to me rant on and on about the pros and cons and how shit could go wrong, blah blah blah. He know’s talking about it helps and considering how much he’s been through with them, I’m incredibly proud and impressed at his ability to stay positive about it for my sake.
Last night was bad because today is the day. Its been over two years since I’ve seen my own mom and much longer since we’ve seen each other under good terms. I’m a nervous wreck.
Not only because I can flash back to all the worst of it or because I know that in all possibility we’re all going to get hurt again for trying but because what if everything goes well and I gain a little bit of that hope that I might get my mom back.
In a situation like this hope can be downright dangerous. You know you know better but emotions can get the best of you and you end up swept away in it all, forgetting that keeping level head might be the only thing holding it all together.
Not exactly the situation I wanted to get into after a sleepless night.
At this point by the time we get there I’ll be practically vibrating from the coffee while falling over from the exhaustion. Is it too late for a rain check?
Yes, yes it is. Off I go……