Wednesday, July 28, 2010
I pride myself on my positivity. the ability to see the silver lining in every single rain cloud. That positive mindset has gotten me thru some pretty nasty shit in my life. Divorce after 15 yrs of marriage, ovarian cancer at the age of 28, the murder of a friend by her husband, who was also a friend,being attacked and then stalked by my attacker for a year... you get what I'm saying. I handle what I can, with the help of family and friends... beer...Jameson(or Glenfiddich)... therapy...paxil... whatever it takes. I then slough off the rest and look for the lessons, look for the learning experience and what i can use to move forward healthier and happier.
I am not ashamed of my struggles. I am not shy about sharing them with those I trust, if asked. But this time, it's not about me and I am finding the positivity hard to come by...because I feel powerless to fix the issues. As a parent, as a mother whose done it on my own for 14years, I am unable to right the wrongs in my childs life.
I am in a place I don't find myself often... a place of anger and negative emotion I am unable to shake right away. I find my old pain in the ass Post traumatic stress disorder rearing it's ugly head and my ability to walk thru the shitstorm that is presently over my head, is being tested. It's like I have turned a piece of myself off, so i won't feel the loss of control and the powerlessness. I've been thru enough psychology classes and lived thru enough therapy sessions to know that this is not a good sign.
I compare the feeling to walking thru the center of the tornado. It's calm and quiet but I know everything around is spinning out of control. One false step and I will be sucked up in the vortex and spit out 10 miles away in a battered heap. But all the while I murmur positive things to the ones I am with and smile when I am supposed to smile. I take the lead and hold the hands and tell everyone everything will be fine. But in truth my heart is breaking and I forget where I put the keys. The remotes in the freezer and the ice cube tray is on the coffee table.
When is too much just too much I used to ask myself... I guess it's when the shitstorm includes my child.