I told my mom last night.
Now I know that no one out there really knows my mom, but her and I haven't had the best relationship for probably about 10 years or so. We have both said some really hurtful things to each other, but I guess as is the case with family there is something that causes us to forgive them, even if it takes a little bit of time. We find a way to move on. So has been the case with my mother for many years, and I suspect we will have many more bumps and hiccups to come.
She took me out for a bite to eat last night as I was stranded away from home for 3 hours in the cold. She offered to drive me home from work sometimes, and asked when I was done - I told her, and she asked what goes on on Thursday afternoons that causes me to be out early. Thursdays are the days I go to that DBT support group thing.
I guess I have been wanting to tell her for a while. She is my mom, and with Andrea getting more and moire exhausted bearing the weight of all my emotional issues, I guess I just wanted someone else to hear it all. So I told her. I told her about all the meds, the hospitalizations, the diagnosis..everything. I left some details out like the cutting, the belt strangulation, and the writing things on my body - no mother needs to have that image of her child in her head.
She was supportive, and surprised but said it makes sense. She said my doctor seems like a quack because of all the different meds I've tried in such a short period of time. She thinks I should go to an inpatient facility to detox my body so I can get on some meds that actually work. It was weird, and comforting, and uncomfortable at the same time.
And then I went home. And the weight of it all came crashing down on me a little again. The not getting the job I wanted, the threat of losing the job I have, the worthless and hopeless feelings. I have been feeling overall very down lately and it was amplified last night.
But I powered through - kind of. I had a nice evening with Andrea. I brushed her hair and we snuggled on the couch. And then it was time to go to bed - and like so many nights in the old house I just couldn't do it. I wasn't ready to do the things that needed to be done, and I wasn't ready to face my own sleep demons. So I sat on the couch under a blanket and stared out my living room window. Kahlan woke later and I tucked her back in, did the things, and went to bed with Andrea - who was already asleep.
I feel at a new vulnerable place. More people know, more people have the potential to know...and I don't know how I feel about that. But it's too late now.