Yesterday ,the 24th, I was struggling. I didn’t feel well, so went upstairs to lie down. I ended up doing over 300 crunches, plank, side crunches, then felt so guilty that I went outside to breathe. I ended up running back and forth, then went and did step ups on a railroad tie, then I raked the yard. I’ll probably get in trouble, but I had to find something to do.
I don’t know if I ever actually journaled about this, but with a push and support I ended up telling Dillon. We were all sitting in thr group room and T was kinda pushing it for me to tell him. He was sweet and supportive.
I’m not sure if I wrote about family weekend either. Mom expressed that she wanted me to come home. I nicely tried to say no. She looked at me and asked, “How much longer do you anticipate on being here?” That hurt, I told her I wasn’t sure and that we could go ask T. Mom said that was a good idea and I was shocked. I made the trudge down the long hallway to her office and quietly tapped on her door. When she answered I told her mom and I had a question. Mom did the abrasive thing she does and shook T’s hand. I was so nervous and timid, I sat down while I watched this entire thing unfold.
Mom jumped right in and asked for an approximate time line of how much longer I would be here. T responded that she wasn’t sure but also expressed how well I have been doing. T told mom, or rather, mom told T, she wasn’t happy that my pass didn’t get approved and asked why. T told mom my last two passes weren’t exactly “successful”. Mom looked at me and asked “what do you mean they weren’t successful?”.
With that, we headed into the group room, so we could speak in private. We got up and went to the group room, my sister and I sat together in my usual chair in the corner. R sat to my right on the couch and mom sat across the room facing us.
I was so thankful T had my back ans was supportive. Mom again expressed she wanted me home. Timidly, I told mom that:
I didn’t want to rush through this just to get out of here- school will be ok.
I didn’t want to go through all of this time and effort to go home and just relapse.
I know T knew what I was saying, or getting at, but mom piped up and said, “That’s why dad and I were thinking you would come home with us. We could have family meals, support you in your recovery.”
I nicely tried to bring up their fights and arguing but I don’t think mom understood. I told her my current place was more calm and less stressful, plus I didn’t want to take over my sister’s room.
Mom played nicey-nice in front of T, and told me, “Whatever is best for your recovery.” Which was the biggest crock of shit I ever hears.
When it was all said and done, I hugged my sister and stood at the bottom of the stairs with T as I watched mom leave. Neither mom nor grandmom talked to me for the next week. Mom doesn’t get her way and has a little fit.
The truth? I would love to be a happy family. Be around my sibs and have a mom and dad. That all sounds terrific in theory. Have a supportive family to be there for me through my high and low points of recovery. To support me, comfort me, etc.
But, that sounds amazing in theory.
The truth of the matter is that it won’t happen. Mom and Jim will still be arguing, screaming, fighting, being controlling. Guilt-tripping me, making me feel like more of a failure- causing me to relapse.
Unfortunately, I am better off on my own than with them, but that doesn’t mean I don’t crave it and want a mom.