I am so mad right now I just want to break something. We found out that my mom's ex, who is a CPA and lawyer, got her a lawyer for her hearing today. Supposedly he's one of the best in the state. My sisters and I couldn't have been more pissed at him. WHY! on earth would you bail her out like that?!?!?! Idiot. I just don't get it.

So, my mom found herself a lawyer and earned herself another couple months of freedom. Her lawyer suggested she go to a 30 day treatment facility and have her hearing pushed back to September 26th. However, going to treatment is not mandatory. If she doesn't go, she will go to jail at the time of her next hearing. If she does go I'm assuming she will not go to jail. So, it's 50/50. Mom needs a helluva lot more than 30 days in rehab. That's bunk. But, at least now we know she either goes for 30 days or she goes to jail. I wonder what she'll decide to do. Papa thinks she will put it off until the last moment if she goes. I can't imagine her actually going. What would she do without the drugs. I don't know if she can figure out how to work it in her head.

If I could talk to her right now this is what I would say:

Looks like you got yourself another couple months. What are you gonna do? Are you gonna go do the 30 days in rehab or just wait to be thrown in jail? I heard about your reply to Papa's email. It's always about you isn't it? "They don't know what I've been through the past four years." Try seven years, Mom. Yeah, it's been that long. And you don't remember b/c you're a crackhead. Must be nice to be able to go through life without a job, a big nice house that's paid off, and a Mercedes Benz convertible that you totaled without flinching. It must be nice to just say, "Well, I will talk to them if they call me but the last time they wanted to talk they wanted to confront me and I can't handle that," to excuse not talking to your daughters. Wow, you're good.

Did you know your first grandchild is going to be 6 months old on Monday? You haven't seen him since when? March? You're pathetic. You always told me you didn't want to end up being a mom like Meme and now look at you, you're worse. I understand that addiction is a disease but your selfishness started it.

I then I kick her in the shin. I thought we might need some comic relief after that one.

Another Ride. . .

. . . on the roller coaster please. Mom didn't have an attorney in court today. When you violate your probation I guess you forgo your right to a court appointed attorney. The judge told her to get an attorney and her hearing was rescheduled for next Friday. So we have to wait another week to find out what will happen.

Papa also said that she has another drug test on Tuesday. He's says it will be best if she tests positive again so she can't go in and say, "Look, I just tested negative for drugs on Tuesday." He says the best possible scenario is that she goes to jail for a couple weeks then he will talk to the judge and try to get her sentence changed to spend the rest of her time in rehab.

Another week of waiting and wondering and dreading and thinking too much. . . oh boy, how fun.

I Am

Today I'm thinking about how my mom ended up where she is. I have a big decision to make and about 24 hours to make the decision in. I wonder- what path did she choose that led her here? How do I make my life different? How do I make sure I live, and I mean LIVE, my life with no regrets. I know I've gotten one thing right by not getting married b/c I was knocked up like she did. (Not to devalue my parents marriage.) I'm in deep serious love with my husband and that's one thing I know for sure. 

Decisions like this suck. Why doesn't anyone tell you that being a grownup is not all it's cracked up to be. I hate money, and if it didn't exist I would know the answer to my dilemma now. I wish I never wanted to buy nice things or have "own a pair of Manolo's" on my life's to do list. I mean it's just stuff. But we're all controlled by it.  "Look at so-and-so's house; it's so small. Look at so-and-so's clothes; they're cheap. Look at so-and-so's vacation; they must be in debt up to their eyeballs." I will not live like this anymore. I refuse to judge myself by the standards of the world. 

I'll tell you what else sucks- not having your mom to talk to about these kind of decisions. My mom always knew just what to say to make me feel like I would know what to do b/c I have good intuition. She made me believe in myself like no one else ever will. She never made me feel like she knew best. She always wanted me to have a happy happy life because she didn't. She searched and searched for it and never found it. Instead she found her drug addiction. And I lost her. And with her, went a little part of me. 

I think a lot about how there should be this age limit for addiction, you know? Like once you reach 40 everyone can say, "Well she's made it 40 years, so she should be good to go for the rest of it." I wonder if my mom ever thought about being a drug addict when she was 25, because I have. In 20 years that's me. When she was my age and thought, "Where will I be and what will I be doing when I'm 45?" I bet she didn't think, "I'll be addicted to hard core drugs that I started doing because I felt overweight." 

The pressure of the world is tremendous. I will not fall under it's pressure. I want to be set apart. I pray that one day my mom will stand up again and see me, her daughter. She'll tell me she's sorry for not being there when I needed her most. But most of all she'll say she's sorry for making me think I've forgotten who I am. We'll move forward and have happy happy lives together. 

Probation Revocation

Mom's hearing is July 18th at 10A.M. I saw her walk out of the gym yesterday. I'm wondering what she's thinking- like is her mind so foggy that she has no idea she might go to jail for 6 months in a couple weeks?

Meditation

I lie in bed and can't sleep because I'm thinking of her. These images just flood my mind. I think about her before and I think about her after. I think about all the times she's let me down. I think about all the times she's held me up. I remember how good it felt when she said, "I'm proud of you." I think about how it would be if she became sober. I wonder if she would love us as much as she used to. I think about where she is at night, and can only imagine the places she goes or the things she does for drugs.



It's so funny. I remember when I was growing up thinking there wasn't enough drama in my life and that if something awful were to happen then I'd have something to talk about, mourn about, write about, dance about, sing about, cry about. The artist in me starving for some kind of tragedy. What a silly girl.



I read once about a meditation, and I tried it the other night:

Imagine yourself in a peaceful place. Put every thought that comes to mind inside a balloon and watch it drift away.

On my honeymoon we took a day trip to Oahu from Maui. After touring Pearl Harbor we drove around the island in our Jeep Wrangler and stopped at every beach we could find. While driving along the North Shore, we came around a bend to find dozens of kites flying in the air. We pulled over and wandered down to the beach to find something we'd never seen before, people kiteboarding. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was looking lazy in the sky. The beach was beautiful, the sand was warm, and I was with my best friend watching people glide across the water by the power of their kites. We sat next to each other on the beach and just watched. It's one of my favorite moments ever. I went there and watched thoughts of my mom drift away in those balloons and I finally fell asleep.

Waking the Dead

So, it's been awhile. Almost a month. Sometimes I think of my mom and I realize I've forgotten about her. If she's not on my mind all the time I feel guilty. It's the way I imagine it would feel if someone close to me died. Whenever I think of her, I get this horrible image of her all strung out stuck in my head. Face sallowed, eyes sunken, teeth broken, misery.

I got a text from my mom's ex yesterday that read, "Praying for your mom." I immediately called my littlest sister and asked her what was going on. Apparently my grandpa has hired an attorney to watch Mom's case. She failed two drug tests and has to go to an arraignment next Friday for violation of probation.

We all knew it would happen. It was just a matter of time. I didn't think it would be this soon. It looks like the truth will finally be coming out. I just want to hear her say it. "I do drugs and I'm addicted to them. I don't want to stop either, and you can't make me."

I just wonder what it will be like if she gets better. I feel so numb.

Info on Meth Mouth and meth in general. . .

Craziness

I got a call from my great-grandmother a week or so ago. She had a stroke about a year ago and ever since she's a little fuzzy on things. She told me that mom had walked over to her house, she lives about a mile or two from my mom, and gotten confrontational with her. She said she came in and sat at her kitchen table and told my great-grandma to not get up out of her chair. She was angry and started yelling at my great-grandma about lots of things. She said that my great-grandma shouldn't be talking to her girls about her because it worries us. She also said that she was angry at my grandpa (he recently emailed her a letter explaining why there would not be any more money coming in for her) and doesn't he know that she's the reason he's successful?

After she went on for awhile my great-grandma got up out of her chair and walked over toward my mom to get something and my mom grabbed her by the arms. My great-grandma had to push her off and after that my mom left.

The next day my great-grandma decided to call the police and get a restraining order where my mom can't go on her property anymore.

Since the stroke she tells the same story over and over again until a new one happens. She's called several times and told me the same story and ends by asking me what I'm going to do about it. She says you need to call her and get her help. It's very frustrating because she can't logically understand what is going on and that we can't make Mom go anywhere or get treatment. It's so sad.

Mother's Day

Tomorrow is Mother's Day and as I stood in front of all the cards at Hallmark this morning looking for cards for my sister and step-mom I spaced out. I can only imagined how I must have looked- standing there staring but not really looking. I thought about how silly Mother's Day is and how bad it sucks that I could not find a card for my own mother nor did I want to. Why do we even have Mother's Day anyway?

I wonder how my mom will feel tomorrow when none of her children contact her? Does she even know it's Mother's Day? Does she even care?

Totaled

My parents were divorced my senior year of high school and ever since then my mom's life has been slowly falling apart. One of the earliest signs of this happened at my grandfather's funeral.

Pop died during finals week of my first semester in college. I ended up failing my first college class that semester. Go figure.

I was in my extra-long twin sized bed in my dorm room sitting on sheets of cloud covered blue, that I’m sure had only been washed once in the four months I had been sleeping on them, when I got a phone call from Dad.

“I’m driving to North Carolina. Pop’s been in a car accident and it’s not looking good. . .” he rambled off on the verge of tears.

“Do you want me to go with you? I can go. I’ll get ready right now.”

“No, no. I’ll call you when I know more.”

“I love you, Dad. Please be careful.”

Dad didn’t want Mom to go to the funeral in the first place and here she was trying to get my sisters and I, or at least one of us, to ride to North Carolina with her. This was before it had gotten really bad with Mom and my sisters and I were still really close to her. I was angry at Dad for being selfish. After all, they had just gotten divorced. It had only been a little over a year since they broke the news to us. How could Mom just stop loving Pop as a father like she truly did in such a short amount of time or ever for that matter? As I look back now, I see the silliness of my immaturity and naiveté. Dad knew Mom and her selfishness and what she would bring to the situation.

We followed Dad’s wishes and rode down to North Carolina with him and his new girlfriend, a freakishly devout and disciplined Christian, Kathi. None of us liked her or were comfortable around her. You could see her judgment of us in her eyes. I'm sure it was hard for her to love us. We resented the fact that she was even involved in such a private family matter, and that we had to spend 5 hours in the car with her when Mom had to travel by herself. Mom had a boyfriend too, Dick. I remember one time when I was sick; he came over and brought The Graduate for all of us to watch. He had the most obnoxious laugh to ever be heard, and there I was dying of strep throat on my mom’s couch and this guy with the awful laugh invaded my territory. Anyway, Dad didn’t want Dick at the funeral either, understandably. So Mom was left to travel by her lonesome, or so we thought.

Funerals truly baffle me. I wonder how it is that you are supposed to see all these people, some you know very well and some you don’t know at all, and soothe them through the loss of one of your closest relatives. I don’t know how my grandmother did it. We, all the grandchildren, were seated on the couch most of the time just crying and surely looking desolate. It was the first funeral I’d ever been too and I was 18. I guess some might say I’m lucky.

The wake was at GG's, my grandmother’s, home. After being there for a while I noticed my mother was acting strange. Her eyes were glazed and she had a hard time keeping them open. She slurred her speech. We had only been there an hour when she came to me telling me she couldn’t be there any longer. I told her that I knew something was wrong and she shouldn’t be driving. She told me that I should leave with her if I didn't want her driving. I couldn’t believe she would be selfish enough to ask me to leave my grandfather’s wake and my dad because of her selfishness. I said no. I followed her out the door and begged her not to drive. She did not listen to me. I watched her drive away into the darkness.

Hours later, everyone had left and it was just the family. I had not been able to get a hold of Mom since she left. I left with my Aunt Karen to spend the night at her house. She has always been really easy to talk to. Even though we don’t see each other that often, maybe twice a year, I always feel like we pick up right where we left off. I talked to her about Mom on the way home and told her about Mom’s downward spiral since the divorce. Awhile after arriving at my Aunt’s, she came in to the room where I was staying. She explained to me that my mom had totaled the car she was driving, which happened to be her boyfriend Dick’s. She was okay, of course, and was at the hospital with Dick. With who? Yes, she had brought Dick with her against my dad’s wishes.

She had accomplished what I think my dad feared- making the loss of our beloved Pop about her. Instead of being focused on my dad, my family and the life and love my grandfather had so willingly given to me I was worried that Mom had been killed in a car accident.

She totalled another car this past summer. Her Mercedes convertible that she had wanted so desperately was crushed when she plowed into the side of a blazer and flipped it. I remember being in high school when she found a picture of her dream car and had it hanging on the fridge for months. She finally got it partially as a gift from Papa and partially paid for by my dad. When it was declared totaled it didn't seem to effect her at all.