Realizations

I talked to Susan this morning and had some realizations. I've also gone to three online ACOA chats so far and it's helping. Here's what I realized:

1. We thought moving Mom into our home was the "right" thing to do--that it was God's will. But was it really? Or was it our will and we just thought it was what God wanted? If it was God's will, why wasn't it blessed? My thoughts on that:

a. It was God's will but it didn't work out because Mom had never undergone treatment and so she'd never be any different. So any good that was supposed to happen, wouldn't because of stumbling blocks with her illness and mine--I wasn't fully recovered.

b. It wasn't really God's will after all. As well intentioned as we were, my motivation in moving my mom was to hopefully save our house (she'd kick in rent money) and to take extreme stress off my brother. But maybe God knew she was too toxic for either of us and the right thing would have been for her to find a place of her own after all, in a senior complex.

2. My mom's behavior really wasn't nice at all considering she'd come into my house as a guest/boarder. Now, I still have trouble wrapping my mind around that one. On the one hand I hoped that things would be different and would be better but on the other, what did I really expect? She is who she is and wasn't about to change. However if she hadn't been my mom and had been just a regular boarder behaving like that, we would've evicted her. Oho. That's going to take a while to process.

3. We really did "honor" my mother after all. We did what she wanted. She kept saying she wasn't happy and she wasn't comfortable and she wished she'd stayed at the trailer. So we didn't throw her out on the street. TB took her home like she wanted.

I've had another realization too that I hadn't really discussed with Susan. I tried really hard to make my mother happy. I tried to get her routine to be as much as it was at the trailer as I possibly could. I set out her silverware, cup and dishes for her. I busted my butt to get dinner ready by 5, even though we were used to eating at 6. I made sure she had desserts although we didn't normally eat them. There's more et ceteras that I won't drone on about. I just realize that I did my best. It didn't work. So it goes.

I need to stop being so hard on myself and stop beating myself up.

To that end, I need to focus on my recovery...again. I may not like it that I probably have post-traumatic stress disorder and I don't like having to deal with the same old issues all over again but ... it is what it is. There's no sense railing about it, I just need to buckle down now and do it. But I can be kind to myself and forgiving of myself while all this is going on.

I feel better about it today.

I'm also starting another anonymous recovery journal so that I don't have to drag a bunch of ugly stuff in front of everyone.