Never gonna get it never gonna get it never gonna get it
wha whoa whoa whoaaaaaaa
Nothing day today. Nothing big, nothing terribly exciting, nothing groundbreaking. Some crucial realizations in matters regarding the relationship with my mother, but other than that, nothing that would make me turn my head, or blink twice. Except a letter from my little brother. With one sentence in it that made me breakdown in tears: “I know you said you would take me to Vegas when I graduate but I think thats more a Penny trip and not a Jennie trip, so lets just hang out.” Other than that, a paint and word filled day, with coffee and ice cream on the side.
I realized today, after receiving a long letter from my mother that referenced the Letterman fuck up and how people’s intentions don’t matter, it’s only other’s perceptions of intent-which is funny because alcoholism is a disease of perception- and how she believes that anything she says will piss me off. Which is entirely untrue. If she had said the only 5 words I needed to hear I wouldn’t be pissed off. “I love and support you.” That is all I wanted. Instead I received a barrage of pity invoking words that evoked no pity from me. Maybe some sorrow, because fundamentally we cannot communicate as I have learned the language of recovery and she has yet to, but certainly no pity. Her letter suggested I was going to therapy to find a singular event that changed my life and made me “this” way, and that she had at once gone to therapy to try and blame her parents. She stated that not everything is about me, and we are all human. I will not post her letter, but I will post my reply. I think I’ve addressed each point as succinctly and eloquently as possible, keeping emotion and abusive or condemning language at bay.
I am not blaming you. I am asking you to quit blaming yourself and looking to me for confirmation or reassurance.
I am not trying to find a singular event that changed my life. I am trying to change my future.
I wasn’t that unhappy in life. But I wasn’t living up to my full potential.
I am learning to become emotionally available to myself and the people around me.
You did the best you could.
My recovery IS about me. It is mine. Hence about me. I am trying to see my part in things, not yours.
If you really intended on giving me space, you would have said 5 words and ended it.
‘I love and support you’
Thank you for your input. I pray for you as you work on your recovery as well.
Love – Jen”
I really am not sure where to go from here. Except to follow through on my prayer for her own recovery. Other than that, I can do nothing as I am powerless over people places and things. And my recovery IS about me. I wished more than anything to write this in all caps, but refrained, deeming it unnecessary. Nothing worse than being yelled at through text.
I had asked her not to read this blog anymore because it stresses her out. She had commented on it at one point, an awkward point with an awkward comment that made me think she hadn’t read anything I wrote. She says she’s trying to figure out who I am after 26 years of not knowing, trying to figure it out through my blog. I said why don’t you let me struggle and I will get back to you. I said it much nicer, but that is what I wanted to say. Again, refraining, unnecessary roughness. I pray that one day she is able to participate in the incredible community of people I’ve found, learn the language of recovery and be a part of something that can teach her to live. But for today, and tomorrow, I must focus on myself, the addicts opera “Me Me Me Me Me”. At least I’m familiar with the subject matter.
As I have a tendency of acting out when frustrated, I went to Fresh and Easy tonight and twittered about how the savings makes me want to masturbate, that or dance. And then I twittered that masturbating in the checkout line makes the scanning of produce and ice cream difficult. No more than 5 minutes passed and my phone is blowing up with Angel Pie calling to make sure I wasn’t actually masturbating at Fresh and Easy. I said no, I’m not, but the savings really are great and if ever there was a place to rejoice over money saved, it’s here in line at this store. Angel Pie told me to tweet again and say that. She didn’t want people worrying about my sobriety. I love her. Dearly.
Today is day 78, no alcohol, no drugs, no sex, no masturbation, no inner circle behavior. I will talk about everything on my inner circle at some point, but those are the things I cannot participate in if I am to develop a healthy sexual attitude. Being emotionally unavailable is on that inner circle, but in cases as the one with Mom, I think I must make myself a least a little less available, not because I don’t love her, but because she says things unintentionally that hurt me. She says things to make herself feel better, and the words and motivation driving make me feel shitty. So once again, break time, to keep from breaking down.