Gone, gone, gone. Really gone. Cause yuh done me wrong.
Image Credit: A CAT, A DAGGER AND AN OPEN DOOR
Oil on Canvas over Panel, 10 x 12"
Of course, this could never actually happen. Thankfully, in respect for my own sanity, I reached the point that the possibility of this happening generates revulsion and pity in me for her mental illness (see prior post on Paranoid Personality Disorder.) And, I have to say one thing about my therapist - she's the chiropractor of the mind, I must say. Two hours with her has put me back on track to f*ck-you-dom . . . a psychiatric slap upside the head. And she gave me homework!!!
The last two weeks here have been utterly brutal, to the point of my breaking down and turning into mental Jello. "Why do you keep buying into the insanity?", Doc L asked me, owl-faced. (Didn't I mention that she resembles a featherless owl? It's true.) Good f*cking question. So I thought about it . . . got depressed . . . and thought about it some more. I now have the answer - another epiphany on the Feast of the Epiphany, no less.
Some time ago, my alcoholic, rapidly aging brother posed this question to me: "What are you contributing to a relationship?" This single question has ghosted me for quite some time. I had to think carefully about what that really meant. I concluded that I can or course, do good and fine things to benefit my counterpart OR I can contribute negatively through inaction. I can contribute stress and disappointment, sadness and despair to my own "soul" OR I can step away like the motherf*cker is on fire. I allowed someone else to press the buttons on my reality, just when I thought they were all broke. Because, deep down, I'm am a good person.
But, like a LIGHTBULB GOING OFF in my head, I became a believer of the following things:
This moment, whatever the moment is, absolutely IS as good as it gets. Better learn to like it.Peri-f*cking-od.
One can't please all of the people all of the time. So, f#ck 'em.
I refuse to inflict myself on those I love when I'm not up to my own standards, especially if I think that they don't know what's good for them.
So, going forward . . . how does this generate peace at Chaos Manor? First of all, my stress has gone *poof* and I have clarity that I did not have before. I am at Lexapro levels with my daughter, emotionally, without the dope. I do not have to adopt someone else's insanity. And then there was peace.
Will it "be like this tomorrow? Who cares. I know I can control my own exposure and if I can't have it the way I need it to be, f*ck it. I've got a whole tableau of future ahead and even if I'm picking my meals out of garbage cans, I'll still be alive and FREE! Wait, wait, back up a sec - - picking through trash? Let's think about this for a minute . . .