I thought of the Prayer thread. And then General. Then here. So it's here.
As Christmas was coming up, I was sad. It reminds me of a symptom of depression; it feels almost like physical pain in the diaphragm.
This will be disjointed, I was thinking if I just wrote it down, it's out of my head and answers will come. From some PTrs, some from life.
I arrived in the province of Alberta in 1999 from Ontario. I had been in ON for 12 years, the longest I had been anywhere. I had some real roots, and had lived up in what's called Blue Mountain country (hate the pottery). Hills, and artistic community galore - a recording studio where I did some pre-CD work, and arranging work on a classically-oriented recording by another artist.
I was broke, and unwell. My mom and sister had just moved from BC to Alberta. I went for a visit in early 99, and though my mom honestly doesn't remember saying this, she asked me to consider moving there, saying, "I have a hell of a life here."
Dad had died in 1996; my sister was now full-time in a wheelchair after having had MS for 10 years. She lived with my mom, quite independently, in a separate part of the half-duplex.
Back in Ontario, I had a cash job as receptionist at a gold resource office on Bay St. (I am not making that up - it was a hoot!). I finally decided that if I didn't go, I would regret it - I used the 'deathbed' decision, which I use for tough choices. I imagine myself looking back on my life and seeing myself having done all the options - and that shows me the right thing to do.
After Dad died, I had this fear that Mom and sister and I would wind up being a bunch of old maids living together. Sounds horrible - but I was mentally ill at the time, and it was untreated. During my first year in Alberta - where I stayed in the finished basement, beautiful bedroom and living area and 4 pce bath - I went into rages and sobs. I truly felt like the gut had been ripped out of me when I left Ontario, the only place I had ever had a touchstone - and behaved poorly in Alberta.
I did enjoy being my sister's champion, as mom would not even allow her to pour cream into her own coffee! And when my sister wanted to rent and try a walker, Mom was really iffy, and my attitude was, "Let her try." She worked really hard with it for a couple of weeks, and realized on her own that it wouldn't work for her.
Okay, part 2 next post
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