I wasn't expecting my mother to arrive half out of her mind - I mean, crazy yea but not - she SCREAMED AT ME, she has never done that, she's kinda lost it. Soooo WELP tbh I was looking forward to some comforting and in a weird way, I got it. The unique pain it was to be caught by the heart over a long ago ex dying - WELP uh she did come in with LOTS of experience of that specific ouchthishurtsWTF, just not quite like I expected at all. Her mind is so much older, having just done more or less nothing but A think about it or B think about how you're not gonna think about it (which = A), so you're haunted. And what does "the" ex ever do but haunt you? so now you're double haunted! and let's not forget Mark, for whom she also still mourns like a kid, and who died of dying still so young that even I think of him as half-done, cut-short, but I'm not the one balling my head off about it. Just the broad strokes of the situation here sent her into the first bought of dementia, truly, that I've seen in her. I shoulda not said annnnything but ya know she is, she gets under my skin at hello, then LOSES HER MIND over what's under there.
After recoiling (that word again) to yoga - I need to stay on my feet and think this through - beating myself to a pulp enough to come home calm (really) - I come out to find a message from him: back to rehab.
So ok, now I have what is the equivalent of a woman pulling hair outa her own head keening over the dead in my living room. Having lost most of my hair in my own grief death spiral, I can't throw stones. And his whole situation. My "plan" to reunite them, given that, is shot. If *I* trigger her bad enough to scream at me then forget a minute later that she did it, probably keeping them apart and him outa her thoughts is best (?).
But again, no beautiful lie comes to me. I come home and just tell her - this is my life now, I go to yoga and he goes to jail which is better than a morgue (yet). That's it.
Then she careens from wanting to send him loveyouknowmatterwhat videos to confusing him with my dad entirely a few minutes later.
Reacher. Thank god for that actor's bicepts. My desperocity figured out that looking at him - it's not even erotic it's the whole mountain of a person to protect me from feeling anything complicated thing, like sucking her thumb but different. We are watching nothing but Reacher for the next month.
And meanwhile, he's gonna die on this hill.
It's hard to describe, but it was like the whole landscape lit up in my mind in front of me. The reason we have not been able to get on the same page is cz we are on different roads. Not the same road of recovery with me just out ahead by one year, I mean there was a fork in the road.
Maybe those roads will cross trajectories again, I dunno, but for right now he is on his march and I am on mine.
Here's where I am going: hard hard left. Beyond the merely political. I went existential left. I am (re)making a whole world dedicated to feeling joy at the slightest breeze of it. Like I already died, which feels like it omg over and over, and now here after that, you're utterly free. And with my freedom I am building a world in which there are no hills to die on. There is no interpersonal violence. Period. You STOP and CARE. And then you plant things - whatever you're doing is what you are planting - and you really think about what your time is spent on, and you make sometimes hard decisions, like "no" to shittyfeeling.
Shittyfeeling has become confused with doing something in my opinion. Feeling terrible about terrible things does not make you the enemy of terrible.
That's it. And I will not budge off that. Even if this, right here, is as far as I got/get. If so, then Here X is where I build where I want to be, where mean words are not spoken, promises not broken, music not words comes out of every outlet, kids run wild behind a fence and at the cottage if squatting on peeing on grass is something you're into at 5 years old, have at it. etcetcetc. If you have hate in your heart, you won't want to be around me, it'd probably look to you like I haven't a care in the world. Reverse it. There is nothing in my world that has not been heavy to carry. So defiantly now, I insist. Life is joy.
Did you know that wisteria, after it's pollinated, turns its flowerbutt to bees like "I'm good"- ? I got one so I could plant it close and watch it do that.
I am the reverse of at war as the way I will fight. If joy were not the hardest road, there would be more people on it. You only ever see Ancient Ones and children on it. So that is the one I'm on, head down through grit. Building places to sit (I learned how) (sometimes) and read a book.
He is on a war road. He can't be on any other road than that one. He should take the crow novel to rehab if they'll let him, best I could offer him in explaining this. The end of the (your) world gives you these stark (oddly funny) choices.
He says that my name on his ass gives him a feeling of hope. He's not coming on to me (if he were, he'd say it). That's cz I chose/choose that road. Hope. Joy. Quiet. Discernment. Pleasure. And I am on it, marching down it in boots, crying umpteen times a day, but still. Doggedly. Doing it.
He is at war. Not just w the crazy babymama (sidenote: I haven't said "told ya" even once). He is At War for his self. With that, almost always booze embroiled, the question is: does he come back? Not TO ME but FROM THAT? If not, eventually, we will have gone too far down each our roads to find crossroads much.
That's what happened last time, really. We went down different roads. At the end of those, here's another fork. This time, I am not choosing a "comparably miserable" road. (No.)
New plan. With help (understanding) of my kids. My daughter will take my mom, I'll take Bug. My mother will love on the baby, low mental energy required. I'll take the tween, high mental energy, and teach her how to plant/build/have. And the Supernova, when my mother comes back / calms down, will be not just allowed but taught how to do what she loves best and is always yelled at about: paint walls.
In the very first class he took, I assigned this https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Civil_Disobedience_(1946) on how to go to jail. that's nuts.
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