I am not lazy. I'm a great mother. I do have multiple chronic illnesses. I struggle with my budget, because disability doesn't pay for much. Just because I "sit on Facebook all day", doesn't mean I do nothing else. I have to rest after I take a shower. And vacuum. And change the litter. I have tried to work. I even took a course. Because of the cognitive aspects of my illnesses/diseases, I could not put what I learned with the information in front of me. I worked for 20 years in "the trenches". The money I receive is based on the money I made when I was able to work.
I am intelligent. I may not pick up when I'm being lied to, or about, right away, but the pieces fall into place. I know intelligent people, who love me, and tell me the truth. Even if it infuriates, or hurts me. Those people are not necessarily family. In fact, many of the lies, and betrayals have come from family. In general, true friends have been more like family to me than anyone.
I make mistakes. Lots and lots of them. I barely remember a whole decade of them. The result of "Daddy issues", I'm lucky to be alive. As a mother, I'm sure other mothers would condemn my methods of child-rearing, and that's okay. What I have to show for it, is an intelligent, hard working, witty, empathetic son, and for about 13 years, a beautiful, intelligent, funny, step-daughter. I made enough mistakes with her that she shunned me until she left for college. I am not a girly girl, never have been, really didn't even know how to be one. But, that's what she needed. That and her real Mom. I couldn't give her either.
I settled. I'd resolved myself to spinsterhood, when I met a nice man. I was scared no other man would want me...just like Dad told me...so I married that man. And he was a nice man for awhile. He turned out to be a man's man, a buddy to all guys, not an awful person, by any means, but not husband material--for me. I guess this one should have gone in the 'mistake' category. If I could tell my sixteen year old me anything, I suppose it would be to value yourself enough to wait for someone that would walk hot coals for you, rather than leave you because you're sick.
I registered as a Democrat years ago, because my best friend did, and because I once overheard my Dad telling my Mom that Democrats care about the people, and Republicans were only about money. I voted for our current President...twice. The first time because he seemed genuinely concerned about the people, he was young, and yes, because he was black. I loved the historical footprint it would leave. The second time it was picking the lesser of two evils. I hated/hate people of means that have no clue what it's like to struggle. Hate is not a word I use loosely. I now regret my decision. Haters lay the blame of the state of our country on those that voted for the current President, shouting that it's our fault. That's quite a load to bear. The collapse of a once great nation is on no one person. The unrest, the severely divided government, the heightened race war...these are not the fault of one person. After all, if it takes a community to raise a child, it surely takes a whole lot of people to raise, or lower, a country.
I've become a bit of a recluse. I leave the apartment for Dr. appointments, and grocery shopping. I can say I enjoy my own company, and I do, but the more I keep to myself, the more I want to. I wonder if there is a form of Agoraphobia that allows some time out, but not a lot. It has taken me decades to like who I am, and maybe I'm not ready to share that with too many people. At any rate, if I decline an invitation to "get some pizza", please don't take it personally. Many, many times it just takes too much energy.
I care. If I say I will be there for you, day or night, I mean it. I've been in the zone of wide open spaces, with nobody to reach out to. I am so fortunate, now, to have so many friends...from across the globe....that empathize, sympathize, and give virtual hugs, on days that hurt enormously, or leave me with barely enough energy to shower. I had to decline a visitation for a friend's Mother, because I was in raging "flare" mode, and it saddened me more than he can know. I cry at lots of things. Music, movies, how sweet my dog is, the thought of my son moving out, and sometimes I have no clue why. Just time, I suppose.
I like to drink beer. On Friday nights. I drink about 6, maybe 7 in a 4 hour time period.
I got a DUI 29 years ago. The classes I had to take actually taught me how to drink, rather than scare me away from it. Two beers in an hour with the old BAC kept me under the law. I still hold to that, simply because I do not leave the house. And on the DUI subject, I have spent 24 hours in a jail cell, in an orange uniform, made out of the sturdiest denim I've ever felt. It was a 100 degree day in June. Inside the jail it was 115 degrees of dead air.. As I had walked past a large cell with about five naked hookers, I figured taking the top off would keep me cooler. By late afternoon, I'd lost all dignity, and took off the pants. Through the vent to the adjoining room came catcalls from the male inmates that were lude, and sickening. At one point, one of the hookers yelled for then to shut up, "Because I wasn't like them". To that point, it was the biggest compliment I'd ever gotten.
I am addicted to Facebook, and TV. I don't go out to eat, or to see movies, or to meet friends "to have a few", so I believe I am justified. Facebook has given me new friends, plus re-connection with old ones. It also provides strategy games to try to de-jumble my brain. I'm losing pieces of my memory. As a writer that is very frustrating...and scary. I know, or hope I know, that the "Fibro Fog", the medications I take, and sheer exhaustion are the reason. In the back of my mind I fear Alzheimer's, as it is in the family. I'm sure I'm fine, just a bit ditsy.
I believe and trust GOD. It was a long time coming. I've always believed there was a God, but didn't feel Him. The greater my faith, though, the greater my rewards have been. I have two verses, in particular, that I fall back on in difficult times, and I repeat them over and over, until I feel calmer. By the time Mom passed I could take comfort, knowing she was healed and happy, in God's kingdom. It eased the pain of losing her immensely. The day after she passed, I had a serious car accident, rolling my little truck three times, into a culvert. I was calm. I distinctly remember being so calm. Just watching the weeds roll by. When I came to a rest, I had a feeling...very hard to describe...thankful, praising God, realizing I was saved for a reason. I think I know, so I'm acting on it. If I'm wrong, I know God will turn me in the right direction.
I am done. I'm not sure I actually covered all of the thoughts plaguing my brain, but I touched on many. Love me or hate me, I am...and happily so...me. And, Me is pretty cool.
