I know you guys were all “Oh, look, Kim is finally making some progress!” after I wrote that last post re: Me and Buddha Me.
Even I believed that I had made a little baby step toward sanity. And maybe I did. But since then…?
GIANT STEPS BACKWARD.
A lot of them.
While acceptance sounds good and is probably (absolutely) the best way to go, I’m sticking with resistance and resentment, naturally.
Why practice acceptance and calmness when I can spend every waking hour with anxious thoughts churning in my head and no resolution, ever?
Except “why” is never the right question, really.
The answer to “why”, in my experience, is never very satisfying.
I think asking “why” is just inviting pure speculation or, perhaps worse, the actual, horrific truth.
Why did you murder those people?
My childhood was fucked up.
Is that true?
No. I’m just speculating.
Then why did you murder the people?
I just felt like it.
My childhood was fucked up???
(I have an unnatural interest in serial killers, FYI)
“Why?” rarely leads to a satisfying answer, in my humble opinion.
But I digress.
It doesn’t matter “why” I’m choosing to be the Queen of Resistance (!!) with ninja resentment skills, I just am.
Except it is not satisfying at all, because I’m pretending that I’m not the Queen of Resistance (“It is what it is……”) and hiding my ninja resentment skills (“I’m so happy (insert someone else’s name) has this exciting opportunity right now!)
So, maybe the key is to dive into it, embrace the resistance (Resistance!), roll around with the resentment (Resentment!), feel all the icky, horrible feelings that I’ve been trying not to feel (or at least not admit to feeling) and let loose a hugely satisfying FUCK YOU to all of it.
(I realize that this may not, in fact, be THE KEY to getting past all the resistance (Resistance!) and resentment (Resentment!), but at least it is a fucking plan, and that is more than I had 10 minutes ago.)
(Plus, I’m not at home right now, and won’t be until tomorrow, so I have some time to be with my issues before I have to cheerfully resume my caregiving.)
Let the embracing and reveling begin!
I am the Queen of Resistance! (think french pronunciation, s’il vous plait) and I am Unhappy with the Way Things Are. I don’t like it! At all! It’s Completely Fucked, I say. I object! Yes, that’s it, I strenuously object to all this Shit! Put that on the record, Jeeves. Furthermore, I hereby proclaim that all the land shall be aware of my ninja resentment skills. How? I shall resent all the people, of course! I resent You and You and even little you. If you are not having a completely miserable life that is seemingly dictated by events/people beyond your control, I hereby resent the SHIT out of you. If you’re my siblings who are doing the very best you can to be supportive, I love you with all my heart and I resent every minute that your lives aren’t dictated by Mom’s illness/needs/desires. It sucks, but it is true. Are you in love? I Resent You! Do you have a group of supportive friends who do girl things all the time? I Resent You! A great marriage/relationship? Oh, How I Resent You! Do you have a job/income? Resentment! Perhaps I would be less skilled in resentment if I were not the Queen of Resistance. Or vice versa. Who knows? Not I. (Not me?) (I don’t!)
If I had really made it safe for myself to feel these feelings, I think I would be feeling a little better right now, having gotten some of that off my chest.
Unfortunately, it’s not really all that safe to be exposing this stuff out loud on my blog, so I’m a little cringe-y and “yikes!” about it all.
I suspect the trick (if, indeed there is a trick) may be finding a truly safe way to express this stuff and get some assistance in processing it from someone who isn’t related to me, or my Mom.
I’m pretty sure that is called “therapy”.
I think I just decided that I absolutely need therapy.
(and oh, how the monsters go wild “but you can’t afford therapy because you can’t have a job because you have to take care of your mom and even if you did have money for therapy how could you fit it in around her Dr. stuff/needs and you’re never going to be able to find a therapist when you live on the farm, which you have no choice about, or do you? therapy would help to figure that out….”)
SOMEBODY GET ME A THERAPIST!
p.s. I got to see my awesome son on Friday and I get to see him again tonight! Yay! He loves college! I love him! I love being able to hang out at my Aunt’s house and be very close to him without appearing to be a stalker… 😉