I’ve been writing about trying to control my temper beacuse I had an episode with my mother last night. It’s been a while beacuse normally, I’m really good at avoiding sensitive topics because normally, I just have to listen to her talk about my father for twenty minutes to a half hour and tell her I’m doing fine. I learned a long time agoo that it’s better not to talk about anything of substance with her.Most of the time, it’s easy beacuse she wants to talk obsessively about my father with an occasional complaint about her own health thrown in for good measure. Or what a tough time she is having with the live-in aide. (For helping with my father with his dementia.)
This was something my brother and I learned a long time ago. Not to tell our mother anything of real importance because one, she would worry about it; two, she would want to talk about it; and three, most likely, she would disapprove of it.
One time when my brother was traveling, he ran into a minor issue with his credentials (well, his girlfriend’s), and he had to go ahead of her. That meant that he spent one day alone in London. London, where, as you know, (most) people speak English as their first language. Where there are signs and everything in English. My mother told me she was really worried about him and prayed for him to be ok.
I told her that he would be just fine (mentioning all the English that happens there). I said I admired him for doing so much traveling and basically whatever he wanted. He’s an adventurer, and I really appreciate that about him.
Another thing my brother and I had agreed upon was that we would not tell our mother anything about each other. I have half-joked with him that I wished he hadn’t told them about my medical crisis. I wasn’t blaming him because I understand why he did it, but it would have been so much easier overall if they hadn’t been here. The only thing I really needed her for was to towel off after a shower, and I could have managed it myself if I had to.
It was really stressful, and I think I would have done better overall on my own. I told my brother he should have just told my parents I was visiting Ian for two weeks. I was joking, but I really wasn’t. I really prefer living on my own, and it was hard to hav ethem around 24/7 for three months. About a month-and-half into it, I was messaging with Ian and saying that I could not do it. I was so stressed and tense, and I was actually thinking I would rather have died than come back for this shit.
I was in a very dark place is what I’m trying to say. He had been in the army when he was younger, and he told me something I’ll never forget. When he was in basic training, he had a drill sergeant who told him, “Don’t think of how long you have to go. Just think of today. You can do one day. Anyone can do one day.”