Saturday my brother took my mom with him to get her things back. The trips to pawn shops were near fruitless. She only got a small portion of her possessions back. It is then my idiot brother tells her he had given the rest of her stuff to be pawned by some other guy since my brother didn’t want the shop owners to catch on about the items being stolen. So now he is trying to get in touch with the guy. Oi… And to think while my dad and I were getting groceries, Dad kept getting the usual things he’d get for my brother and even invited him to join us for dinner on Sunday. This is just so damn annoying…
Well, I collapsed around one this afternoon. I was emotionally and thus physically drained. My theory is that when it comes to drama from outside forces, I am spent up emotionally. When it is drama produced from within, however, I have that extra adrenaline from anger, mania, anxiety, and/or whatever. In any case, I was out of it until four thirty.
After waking, I did a few chores, ghosted about and eventually my mom decided to order takeout. When that arrived my mom and I settled into her bedroom and watched television. Come eight, she started talking some. It seems that on her second ride out with my brother to try to get her things back was even less fruitful. My mom cursed at him, called him something and got out of the car to get away from him. I more or less commended her for that.
This… all of this is just too much. Mom admitted to me that she doesn’t even want to go into work. It isn’t completely just sorrow – she’s not depressed from what she has concluded since she knows how she feels when she is so. Her reasons are also a thing of ethics. Professionally she wouldn’t be able to do her job as a counselor when the people she works with are the ones she dislikes most at the moment. Despite that, she can’t just quit without consequences and such – and I don’t think she really wants to quit, she just needs time to recuperate. The best scenario that can occur with the realities of life is that her work will let her transfer to something else. She would have to be trained, but it would be good for her and likely for patients. After all, who wants a counselor who really doesn’t want to see or listen to you at all?
She also talked about seeing the therapist I often saw when we moved here. Sure, she can talk to co-workers and the like… but she thinks that talking to the therapist would let her receive feedback that would give her food for thought. She really needs someone to listen… well, more “someones”.
My mom thinks the boy she once knew as her son is dead. Sure, physically he is still here, but the person we loved and the person who could feel love, remorse and whatnot is gone. In all truth, I agree with her. She says nothing is there… behind those eyes of his… nothing is there.
I just wish my parents could get away for a while for a little self-healing from all of this. A change of scenery, time to themselves and all that is something I think they both really need… Sadly, I am powerless as they are in this.
Well, around eight my mom decides to go to bed. I think all of us are. I just wanted to write this out… therapeutic or something…
Sigh… I’m tired again.