so close yet so far away

my mom can hear the distance in my voice. i try to fake it. but for whatever reason i can't any more. and it is about to break me. the words i need to say to her to make her understand are to hurtful. so i say nothing. she doesn't know me and i don't know her and at this point i think it is best if it just stays that way. she couldn't cope with knowing me. if she read that post that the T read, she'd probably crumble and die.

she needs to much of that fake closeness and i need right now to be as far from her as possible. so i answer the phone in that voice with no emotion in it. that one that almost sounds computer generated. she knows my older sister and i talked. she asked for permission to stay at my house for thanksgiving. she's playing her games trying to feel me out and act considerate of my feelings. its annoying.

so i finally just wrote her a letter telling her that how things are. it took me 7 tries, 1 xanax and hours of sleep.

i think therapy has come to a stale mate. i can't go forward right now and the time and the money just aren't worth it.

i saw this long set of typed notes in my file. probably based on what he read in the blog entry. made me curious. funny the things i notice while sitting in his office - all the shelves which aren't put up straight. new additions to my file, sounds from other rooms, artwork i hadn't really ever paid attention to before and wondering if it came with the office or if he chose it and why. i became conscious of not looking up at him because i was not going to cry anymore. but finally i willed myself to look up and contain the tears. and i did. until i got to the car and began to drive.

i don't have the type of money or time to put into resolving the issues i have carried for way too long before i began to battle them. they were given too long to get a hold of me before i got a chance to fight back. now the only things i can throw at them are bottles of pills. its the only resource i can afford when life won't stop. Those people that beat mental illness have the resources (time & money) to fight this. they don't have to work, no need ot worry about whether the family will eat or be clothed, they don't have to fight with the disability people and carry that stress. they show up at the best dr's office and just go in and concentrate on the demon in front of them.

the rest of us walk in with one demon at our heels, leave him in the waiting room, go into the therapist's office, open our bag, let the other's out, let them chew us and spit us out, pack them back into the bags at the end of our 50 minutes and then drag our bleeding bodies back into the waiting room to collect our other demons and walk back into the bitter world.