Mom …

I don’t know what’s left to say. I had therapy today and we talked about everything that happened in the last few weeks.

We discussed how not only is it fine to have all the emotions I have, but they really are justified.

I spent a lot of today crying. Just overwhelmed with taking care of mom and feeling like a pull toy being dragged around.

Yesterday was 3 calls. Bitching about getting home, then a call her wedding ring was missing, then her hearing aid charger didn’t get packed. 8:45 at night and I’m supposed to fix it all?

7:30 this morning, call the rings were put in a drawer by a worker so they’d be safe. Not stolen like she insisted last night. Also told I had to make her an appointment with her cardiologist.

Talked to brother 3 after this and he told me how she complained to him last night about how horrible I was with taking care of her during her hospital and rehab stay. It was all the I did wrong. He asked her if I was supposed to go out in a blizzard and -35 temperatures, risking my life, for her? “Well… no.”

Second call was about getting her charger. I had to get the wheelchair they transported her in back to the nursing home in exchange for her charger. Talked to those involved and it needed to be done by 3. Fine, done.

Told her she has a cardio appointment tomorrow. Bitches she can’t do that tomorrow! Cancel it! Say ok, then listen to her complain about how her heart is racing and acting funny. 🤷🏼‍♀️

Got off the phone and thought “I need comfort.” Ice cream? No. Fast food? Don’t care for that. Special dinner? Nah, I want my leftover taco salad.

Came home, got into pajamas and had sugar free hot chocolate with a little bit of rumchatta in it. Relaxing, yet not destructive. After sitting in peace a while, I thought of the comfort I took in my stuffies when I was little.

I even remembered the ones that she threw away because she decided they were “too worn.” They weren’t destroyed, merely very much overly loved. I don’t know if they were tossed for their appearance or for my love of them. Maybe a little of both?

At any rate, I remembered the comfort I used to get in hugging my stuffed friends. I went on Amazon and found Chester.

He’s coming home Saturday. He’s 2 feet tall. He is going to help me with the hugs to soothe my soul.

Small steps. I did eat some ice cream cookies, but to enough and I pitched the last few. Not worth it. I’ve journaled and I will work on more thought work through the weekend.

I’m trying to hit the brakes on doing for her and putting myself first. When I got the call I could pick up her clothes from the rehab I said I could tomorrow. I was told if I didn’t come tonight, the next time was Monday.

Without hesitation I said Monday will be fine.

Me first.

It’s my time.