A big heavy load is weighing on my mind today. Grateful for the space to share. Apologies for writing such a long post.
Trying to help a loved one (mom) when they insist on continuing to swim in the massive sea of tox-sick-city that got them in the horrible physical condition they are in is so much harder than I ever imagined it could be. Diet sodas/highly processed lunch meats/fast food/sodium levels off the charts in "convenice" food-like substances/aspartame and other artificial sweetener filled "treats"/chemical concoctions no human should ever consume, especially on a regular basis/etc/etc.
My time spent there is very limited with her and other relatives/friends/etc. due to being sickened by the perfume/laundry smells/chemicals/etc. and I feel like I only make things worse by even trying to help since I'm the only one in the small group of remaining family members who lives with such heightened sensitivities/allergies/requirements to maintain my own well-being. This gig of being a canary in a coal mine really sucks at times like this.
I'm also the only one in the family who has ever managed to reverse and learn to better manage many of the same physical issues they all continue to greatly suffer with by changing my environment, lifestyle, and consumption habits via painful first hand experiences, and then some. It's killing me to see her and other people supposedly having her best interest at heart contributing so much more to her pain and death than to her chances of recovery and life.
Definitely feeling like a no win situation in my heart no matter how I view it. I wish I could turn my feelings totally off like they seem to be able to do...and did towards me for most of my life. Holy shit this hurts and is really hard to handle. Must. Make. Shift. Happen. Within. Myself.
When I try to detach and try to step back, I feel guilt, like I'm not doing enough and leaving way too much for my sister and others to have to deal with. When I'm fixing meals and such I feel like I'm overwhelming her with healthier versions of stuff, especially since I discovered she was lying to me telling me she was eating it all and loving it, even asking for more, but then I found a whole lot of it buried in behind the fast food and sodas others brought in. That stung.
When my husband so generously buys helpful things for her that she needs to live more comfortably (like a new lift chair, etc.), I feel like it's a bigger burden on him than it needs to be, and thanks to him marrying me, he's now stuck with a much bigger financial load than he ever bargained for...which sends me right back to the space of lack I'm way too familiar with. He never complains, though, it's just my brain doing its usual what-ifness thing. His heart is acting weird, too, and we just spent another evening in the ER trying to get that figured out. Cha-ching! The top chamber of my heart is acting up (premature atrial contractions) and the lower chamber of his is acting up (premature ventricular contractions). Stress is the last thing any of us need, but it seems to get super-sized instead of lessened.
When I try to be physically present with and for her, it takes at least a few days for me to recover due to the artificial fragrances and such that are thick in her home, and I have to hold my breath most of the time I'm there. The stress is wreaking havoc on my heart in so many ways and the flutters kick back in. I sure as hell can't deep breathe my way through anything while being there.
I only wish to be able to provide nurturing care and comfort to the woman who brought me into this world. That's what I'm supposed to do as long as I'm able, right? I watched her work a f/t job, handle her own household, take care of dad and his mom while they were in the hospital at the same time at least an hour away, drive 45 minutes each way every weekend to where she lives now and handle stuff for her mom and sister, and still do for others in between all that....all when she was about the same age I am now. I can't keep up with that...not even close.
I never really felt like she had my back during the times I needed her the most, especially on any emotional level, and if it weren't for dad in my younger teen years, she would have happily left me on the streets the few times I reached out for help, but I still love her and wish nothing but the best for her. But when my ideas of nurturing and care are so vastly different than everyone elses, it seems to really f'n complicate things. My heart and brain need a break, and I'm sure hers do, too. Still looking for that "off/on" switch.
