will i ever be friends with my parents?
It's been about four weeks since I had an emotional breakdown/burst of extreme neediness and depression. Hormonally, it might be time for another one. I can feel myself getting jealous and weepy and negative about stupid things and for no reason. I'm trying a new, more scientific method of notating this feeling here and not going into detail. Will it work? Who can say?
On Monday, I went to an NA meeting to support a friend. I have only been to Al-Anon and Alateen meetings before, and went to those only because I was sentenced to in court (and if you want to know THAT story, I'll tell you another time). At the time when I initially went to those meetings, I was seventeen. I took offense at the whole "giving yourself over to a higher power" aspect of those groups and couldn't really see past that. Now, as an "adult," I can appreciate the value of these groups beyond the God stuff. I know my mom tried AA and it wasn't for her, which makes me sad. She needed friends at that time so very badly.
It's funny; going to this NA meeting made me want to call my mom and ask her how she is doing with her alcoholism. We've never really talked about it. If we have, I don't remember. We must have been made to talk about it in therapy. I remember that when my mom got sent to rehab when I was around eleven, they gave me this book...sort of a workbook. It had pages where you could draw pictures depicting things like "A time my parent hurt me," "A time my parent embarrassed me." I definitely remember drawing in that book, but I don't know what my mom did when she saw it. It must have wounded her pretty deeply, because even though she denied the things she did while blacked out, she must have known I didn't make them up. Does she still have that book? Does she keep it in her cabinet with my Thanksgiving handprint turkey paintings and her crayoned Mother's Day cards from when I was in kindergarten?
I know she used to blame her alcoholism on me. I know my dad thinks I am a disappointment. One time he called me from work to leave a message on my voicemail, and didn't put the receiver down all the way when he hung up. I heard him having a conversation with a co-worker about how much of a deadbeat I was. I have such conflicting memories, though. I also remember seeing him awake for the first time when he came out of his coma a few years ago, weighing less than I did. He said I looked like a movie star.
Anyway, I'm rambling. I did call my mom on Mother's Day and we just talked about boring bullshit for two minutes and hung up. It was weird thinking about her not being able to call her mom for the first time. I didn't really talk about it, but my grandfather (my dad's dad) died last month. That's two grandparents gone in 2010, and I still can't believe it most of the time. My mom said that Grandma Stockton calls Dad every day now that Grandpa Stockton is dead. She doesn't know what to do with herself anymore.
On Monday, I went to an NA meeting to support a friend. I have only been to Al-Anon and Alateen meetings before, and went to those only because I was sentenced to in court (and if you want to know THAT story, I'll tell you another time). At the time when I initially went to those meetings, I was seventeen. I took offense at the whole "giving yourself over to a higher power" aspect of those groups and couldn't really see past that. Now, as an "adult," I can appreciate the value of these groups beyond the God stuff. I know my mom tried AA and it wasn't for her, which makes me sad. She needed friends at that time so very badly.
It's funny; going to this NA meeting made me want to call my mom and ask her how she is doing with her alcoholism. We've never really talked about it. If we have, I don't remember. We must have been made to talk about it in therapy. I remember that when my mom got sent to rehab when I was around eleven, they gave me this book...sort of a workbook. It had pages where you could draw pictures depicting things like "A time my parent hurt me," "A time my parent embarrassed me." I definitely remember drawing in that book, but I don't know what my mom did when she saw it. It must have wounded her pretty deeply, because even though she denied the things she did while blacked out, she must have known I didn't make them up. Does she still have that book? Does she keep it in her cabinet with my Thanksgiving handprint turkey paintings and her crayoned Mother's Day cards from when I was in kindergarten?
I know she used to blame her alcoholism on me. I know my dad thinks I am a disappointment. One time he called me from work to leave a message on my voicemail, and didn't put the receiver down all the way when he hung up. I heard him having a conversation with a co-worker about how much of a deadbeat I was. I have such conflicting memories, though. I also remember seeing him awake for the first time when he came out of his coma a few years ago, weighing less than I did. He said I looked like a movie star.
Anyway, I'm rambling. I did call my mom on Mother's Day and we just talked about boring bullshit for two minutes and hung up. It was weird thinking about her not being able to call her mom for the first time. I didn't really talk about it, but my grandfather (my dad's dad) died last month. That's two grandparents gone in 2010, and I still can't believe it most of the time. My mom said that Grandma Stockton calls Dad every day now that Grandpa Stockton is dead. She doesn't know what to do with herself anymore.