Mother's Day

Tim texted me in the morning, reminding me to call my mum. She was still sleeping, but said it was a wonderful way to wake up. She's still looking for work, but keeping afloat, and her relationships with pretty much everyone around her are getting better. She told me how happy she is with me, and how proud of the work I've done to get here. I feel like some part of her actually gets all that encompasses. She talked about her own growth since my dad, and even broached her guilt about staying, and then asked again about any resentment I hold towards her. Thinking now, it's not just that I it's not just that I never even considered any of them to blame, I suddenly get that if I did, I'd have internalized it and literally branded it into myself. Instead I told her we were pretty much all victims. It -started- as a messy divorce, but Colleen's drugs(?), and my papa's PTSD were a combustible mix. We're lucky to be burned but alive. She pressed on, insisting that if she hadn't stayed, our lives would be better. I told her that if not for her (reported) influence, I'd have probably run away or killed myself. This won't soften my punches to myself, but the past is gone, there's no point in torturing yourself over it.......She jumped the track there, saying that papa did soul searching, and then went to friends to ask how to help a gay son come out. I don't know if it's the puppy on the electric floor, a broader understanding of pain, or exhaustion, but I didn't even to mention that a good first step would have been him retracting the promise to beat me.

My mom asked how Colleen was doing, or if I'd been talking to her. I told her quite honestly I hadn't heard from her since the day I met her. She reinforced that she wants me to make my own relationships, and essentially said she doesn't want me on the battlefield. I thought about texting Colleen, but not only was it infant me just trying to make everyone happy, I don't actually have any contact information for her.

Thick headed, mistaking causation for correlation, or some mix, I took 3 Kratom. I literally felt nothing, so I took 3 more. I still felt nothing, but wisely stopped there. Spent the rest of the afternoon playing video games and laying withe Lady Miss Friday. I looked it up again, and apparently what I'm looking for right now is a dab pen. I took a THC pill, then THC oil, then smoked, then drank.....I was pretty happy. I thought and thought about my goals of drowning in dopamine/serotonin/endorphins or at least wrapping my brain in a mile of bubble wrap. I got there, at some pint I started sinking. I wanted out again. Kind of desperately. I can't, of course, but I was a sobbing mess. Like always, Lady Miss Friday ran up to save me every time my head stayed under the water. It was a very concrete statement that Tim is right, and I pretty desperately need to get regular therapy...in the same way that running into a wall is a concrete statement to stop.

My mom called again a couple times in the evening. I was stoned by then, but I recall her saying that my brother chose today to spew vitriol at her, and had been sending her hateful texts all day. I got way more stoned after that. Took a THC pill, a *bunch* of THC oil, smoked, drank.