Sorry I dropped off the face of the earth for a small bit. I have to say the death of my sweet, elderly kitty hit me really, really hard. And I did what I do normally when I am in pain. I put my head down, affix the blinders, and push through.
I miss her every day. Her memory sometimes makes me cry, sometimes makes me laugh. I had the opportunity to rescue an older kitty who, quite bluntly, is a handful, and I did so in her honor. It cannot bring my gray girl back, but I can help another kitty, and keep the 11 year old from being too lonely. Things have went really well, and although they can be a bit growly, hissy, or slappy from time to time, they are adjusting well. I am hopeful they will be playmates, if not friends before long. We shall see.
I have continued running, and I am close to completing the goal of running over 1,000 miles in a year. I am not sure if the full marathon is happening this fall or next spring, but I have to realize that sometimes life, work, and other gets in the way, and it is not all or nothing. I can adjust. That is life.
I have done a couple of things for myself I would not normally do. I replaced my 8 year old MacBook Air with a brand new MacBook Pro. It was time, and it was much needed. I also booked a cruise with my best friend and his wife. In less than three months I will be cruising in the Caribbean and enjoying myself. I will, for the first time in nearly 9 years, take a true vacation and disconnect totally.
What does any of this have to with hoarding? Nothing. And everything. My hoarding mother continues her litany of complaints, her rumination, her speculation, her denial, her paranoia, and her inability to see anything in any frame of reference other than worst case scenario. I have realized the impact her narcissism and mental illness have had on her, and on me growing up. She was horrified that I bought a new computer. She intoned darkly that I was going to be taking a cruise in hurricane season, and started going on about an expose' she saw on cruise liners. I shut her down each time. Not asking for approval, for permission, for forgiveness. I am 46, and I will do what I feel I need to do for my well being and my comfort.
And 9 years is too damn long to go since my last vacation. That will NOT happen again. I will not let it. I refuse to live life as opportunity lost. And when she starts to engage in her hoard-speak, speculating on people's income, fat or appearance shaming folks, talking about hair on her lip, moles, her bowel habits... I just end the call. "Oops! I am here. Gotta go."
I remain very low contact. And I remain relatively disengaged. At the point of the 'final and only' clean out, I may come in. Or I may not. What will make that decision? Whatever is healthiest and works for me. No compromises. Not anymore.
Thank you for reading! Hopefully more humor to come...
One FTMOAH (from the mouth of a hoarder) moment... I was zoning out and came back to earth just in time to hear, "Do you have nipples? I don't! I just have pinkish brown disks! They were always pulled in though..."
GAH! I nearly drove my car into a guardrail while freaking out silently! MENTAL PICTURES! MENTAL PICTURES! She is nearly 80.
I will leave you with that. I should not be the only person to 'enjoy'.
Hoarding... no one wins. No one.
