Of Whom I've Tried to be, With B and Others.
At the beginning, I mistakenly thought B Was the One who Wished She Could Take Every Pain of Mine Away. I Know, Right...? What I'd mistaken for a Magic Moment was simple manipulation to get something she'd wanted for herself. A beginning to a Consistent Theme.
Had that only been true, tho? It would have made her Quite A Bit Like Me. I'm intrinsically creative, yet at the same time, outrageously destructive. Or frighteningly capable of the latter. I've inherited both my Evil Parent's resistance to aging AND her capacity to cause pain. No one in my current life knows how much. They won't know; I'll never demonstrate it. I've broken minds in my past. One fully deserved it. Most others...not so sure. I've fallen in love with the beauty of Figuring People Out, then giving them moments better than they've ever known. If I can.
And that's who I was to B. Created a 'photo hall' in the house so--during her feud with her mother--she'd remember she was always surrounded by family. Kept a tablet loaded with stand-up, so she could literally laugh during chemo. Would fall asleep while feverishly working math...What if the doctors were wrong? What if this would kill her? How could I keep her in The House She Loved for her final days? Where would I move furniture? Would I have to take renters to defray expenses? How can I make her Last Days the Best I Could Make Them...?
I was her sole caretaker. Quite honestly, the only caretaker in the house. No One looked after me. No One asked to share any of that load. No shoulders to cry on or hands to give mine rest. No family to visit me. Or her, for that matter.
What kept me going was the belief that we'd have our Old Life Back One day....unaware that a Slightly to Very Different person was emerging. She didn't want that Old Life back. Or a Life which (in her POV?) might have been the bullshit she was tolerating, to Keep Me Around. Wish I understood it well enough to explain it. But I don't, so I can't.
What sucked about losing that Old Life? This aching need to share the things I love most. How fulfilling it is--to me, at least--to make other people feel Not Like My Parents Made Me Feel. It's Who I Am.
It's something I'll do to my own neglect. Partly cuz I'm aware of my ability to self-substantiate. Partly cuz I'm aware No One Wants to Be That Sort of Person for me. I'm Only my mistakes. I'm Only that One Bloody Day I was my worst. Even if they have to dig back a year. Or a decade. Or to my childhood, when I struggled with both my communicative deficits AND my ability to understand the world around me. Doesn't matter if I'm the one keeping THEM sane at funerals--as I have for the past decade-and-change. Or the one who chooses to drive 700 miles each way to be Their Family at funerals (talking about a different one now) when their own brother won't and choose to distract them from their pain by making them laugh, or point the roses in the concrete that will help them carry on. It's always, Hey! Remember Your Mistakes? What a piece of shit YOU are.
Never where I've evolved from that point. Never my Present Self. Never who I've chosen to be. Even to people who choose to neglect me. Perhaps even WHILE they're neglecting me. It's always Hey! Your Mistakes!
By the time B and I were mostly done, I couldn't even tell her about things she needed to do for her own health and well-being. Never mind the Old Life Lost. Even the Well-Meaning caretaker role was gone.
I don't hesitate to talk about the Good Times with B. I was Me, the Whole Time. I chose to be the Best Self I could manage to be with others, and I don't regret those choices. If I made some of their Life's Best Moments, or rays of light in their darkness...guess what? I get to keep those. I own them. I. MADE. Those. That was solely me.
To tell the truth, no one's ever going to be that person for me. They don't want that for me...which is simply the reality of my life, as it is. Or if perhaps they did, they don't know how. Which is perhaps a bit sad. For them.
But if they could shut the ever-loving fuck up now and then...? Rooting around like truffle pigs in the earth? Digging around for my flaws as if they were precious gems, while blithely ignoring Who I've Been to Them? Would be nice. Might require gratitude or empathy or putting themselves in other people's shoes. Which might be too much to expect. Shrug.
Welp, an unburdened mind sleeps better. But now it's daylight. So either I'll doze back off, or put some energy into making my life even better than it already is. Tough choices 😆 could be worse..