So last we saw me I was a victim of domestic violence with a seemingly well mother who had a time bomb in her body, and we didn't know what time it was set for. I was afraid of my brother, afraid of being homeless, afraid of my niece going into foster care, afraid of losing the only person who really and truly loved me the way I needed to be loved, afraid of letting everyone down, and feeling guilty for wanting to run as far as I could from everyone. Anxiety is the worst thing I have ever experienced. Depression was bearable in comparison. I was so tired. I felt like crap from chemo and more and more my mom needed me to take care of Lissie.Also, in April I crashed our car into the garage. (my dad told me I could back in and I was clear. Rule #1 never listen to my dad.) Not really a big deal in the long run but made me want to die. It was the catalyst though, to having me start driving school and I finally got my drivers license August 2010, which was the absolute most positive thing that helped me to that point. I think that was the time when I began to think, everyone has one thing they are afraid of, and they say I could never survive that, anything but that. I have had a lot of those moments from then til now, and I see that even if I think that will just kill me, it never really does.
May was a hard month. My mom got pneumonia and had to spend a week in the hospital. During that time, I had the worst chemotherapy round of them all. I was so sick, but I had to take care of an autistic child all by myself. To this day, I hate the barney video she watched over and over during that time. I had to figure out how to do laundry all by myself for the first time. That is pathetic sounding but you have to remember, my mom never taught me this stuff. I was so scared of doing something wrong and I cried constantly that whole week. If my mom had died that week I don't think I would have survived it without going into an institution or something. Around this time I started therapy and Welbutrin and it took a long time but I think it helped. From this point on, my mother had to be on 24/7 oxygen. I tried to control my anxiety by packing up posessions, because my thought process was I wasn't going to be able to do it myself when she died, and I needed her to help me know where everything was. I got rid of a lot of stuff. I wanted to travel light, I really thought I was going to be out on the street or something because I just was a bundle of nerves and was so scared and didn't think I could really do anything by myself.
I finished up chemo, and in July my mom went to the oncologist and decided not to pursue treatment. I am so thankful she got to see me get my driver's license. That august was the beginning of me finding my confidence. I could drive like an adult. I could do anything I set my mind to. I think it was a combination of my meds kicking in and my coping strategies, but whenever something overwhelmed me I found something I was capable of. I am capable of washing these dishes. I am capable of packing this box, etc. I just decided to do project after project. When something got me down, I researched and I figured it out. For several months I had been getting Lissie off to school, going for a walk and journaling, and just getting through the days. I kept saying when I felt better I was going to find a job and move out. I knew deep down that mamma had to die first, and that made things kind of difficult in my head. I didn't want her to die, but I hated the status quo. I didn't like to be entering the unknown, I wanted a plan, I became a control freak. I got upset if anything was sprung on me, and I really wanted a blueprint for the rest of my life. I went to this class about how your life is like this circle with wedges. When one is out of whack, the wheel won't roll and stuff like that. It was how to plan your life and fix things. I think it helped a little but I still was really messed up inside.
In September, my mom entered hospice. They were wonderful and it was really a necessity because doctor appointments were getting difficult for her. Those months with hospice were really hard for me. I didn't want to be around my mom because she wasn't my mom anymore. She smelled bad because the cancer made her sweat a lot. I couldn't hug her because it hurt her. Also, part of it was she couldn't do anything for me anymore. That sounds shallow and mean, it isn't that I didn't love her anymore because I couldn't get anything out of her, it is so much of our relationship was her taking care of me. I didn't know how to reverse that. I did my best but I felt so lost. And whenever I looked at her I felt so sad, because I couldn't do anything for her. Then in October, I had to have a hernia surgery. It was not a big deal and I healed quickly. My mother really made me mad with a comment, not again, you had your turn already what am I going to do without you? I was praying to die on that table. That is so selfish because my mom needed me. From that point on for most of the next 2 1/2 months or so, my sister, Theresa came over every day, helped me with the housework. got me through the surgery, and kept things going even when I was well so I could take care of my mother, and helped take care of her daughter. I think that was what I needed for many reasons. I saw that I wasn't truly alone. My other sister, Tara, also was a big help and came over more often. I can't remember exactly when it happened, but I think the crossroads was when I talked to a social worker and she said I could always call cps to take over with Lissie, but once I crossed that road it would be difficult to go back, but I could just take one day at a time and try to raise her.
