Last weekend (about 10 days ago), my world got turned upside down just a touch.  I don’t know why this is bugging me so much.  I mean, I don’t have much of an emotional attachment to my mother.  Let me back up.  I found out a few months ago that my mother has uterine cancer.  She was having some problems with bleeding, so the doctor didn’t want to do the hysterectomy until that was sorted out.  During this discussion with her, my mother led me to believe she was severely anemic and nothing more (not that anemia isn’t serious).

She tells me last weekend that the reason for the bleeding (she needed a transfusion of 3 pints of blood after the D&C) was liver failure.  She needs a liver transplant.  In some ways, I’m not surprised.  She was a heavy drinker all my life.

Before she can have the transplant she has to have 6 weeks of radiation.  Only then will they put her on the list if they are convinced the cancer is in remission.

I’m trying to figure why this has hit me so hard.  I honestly can’t say I love my mother.  She did too much shit for me to ever love her.  It’s taken me a long time to get over the bitterness, and I don’t think I’m totally over it. I’m confused, to say the least.  I have no control over this.  I hate feeling out of control.  And those caretaker instincts kick in.  I want to take care of her.  That’s what I did growing up.

I guess it boils down that I’m falling back into those old behaviors.  They caused me more distress growing up than I care to remember.  Just writing this out has helped some.

Add this little twist…  I have no idea what has triggered my anxiety the last 3 weeks or so.  I’ve been having severe panic attacks, especially at night.  I haven’t slept well in a couple weeks as well.  All this together is sending me into a depressive episode that’s slightly too deep for my comfort.  I’ve temporarily boosted the Zoloft back to 100mg a day.  I had been stable at 75 for quite a while.

I’m tired.  I don’t know any other way to put it.  Work takes every ounce of my available energy.  Putting on a happy face and singing silly children’s songs all morning is nearly more than I can bear.  I want to hide in my closet.  I have to keep my doors closed because I can’t stand to hear the kids screaming during lunch time.  None of these are good signs.

3 thoughts on “Hmmmmm….

  1. I wonder if you still retain some idealized image of your mother — the mother you wish you had — and as long as she’s alive you hold some subconscious hope that she might turn into that ideal mother — something along those lines could make sense of your caretaking urges and the way you’re feeling about her illnesses.

    Also, the liver failure does sort of confirm one aspect of why she was not a good mother — I don’t think anyone’s idealized mother image includes heavy drinking.

  2. I’m sorry that you are going through this. What it sounds like to me is that you still are grieving some of your hopes that you would get from your mother instead of you taking care of her. And, now that you feel the “need” to take care of her your emotions regarding caretaking and your losses all get kicked up. That along with maybe thinking that you should be feeling sad or worried or something else for her. I don’t know this could all be my own projections. Either way, please continue to take care of yourself and I hope the increased Zoloft helps.

  3. David Levy says:

    What an awful thing to hear.

    I have learnt recently that actually, all we are amounts to the combined problems our parents pass down to us. My comment for this entry would be to be the ‘bigger person’ – rise above the fact that your mother did nothing for you, and be there all you can. You could be saddled with a lifetime of regret, otherwise.

    Really though, good luck. There is way out of this! I don’t by any means want to self-publicise, but my blog: documents my journey out of the darkness and into the light. (lots of info in my ‘about me’ section)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.