Dear Reader,
I went to the Y today, but it was not a pleasant experience. I had zero motivation. The elliptical hurt my quads so I spent almost no time on it and got on the bike for a short while. I had no strength, and I might as well have been 80 years old. Very discouraging.
It was confirmed today that I do have stage 3 chronic kidney disease. I am scheduled to have a renal ultrasound done next week and my doctor is trying to get me in to see a nephrologist. Although this is what I expected, it was a bit of a blow having it confirmed. The kidneys may be what is causing the parathyroid problem.
I talked to my mother today and am over being so angry at her. She has Borderline Personality Disorder, and that's just the bottom line. I saw my counselor today and she was very helpful. She said that I seem to have been caught off-guard again by seeing how destructive a BPD can be. She asked if I could see how the two experiences, the present one of having her recount the incident, and the past one of having observed it, show very effectively the nature of BPD? The current one, she had no remorse at all for her actions or what harm she caused any of us. And the incident of the past showed her fear if abandonment, her misreading the note and interpreting it wrongly. Her feeling of being betrayed by her child, her panic, wild emotions, and her complete loss of self during it. I could see that.
She then asked me what would have happened if Jesus had walked into the kitchen. My first reaction was that He wouldn't! It was too ugly, He couldn't be in such a place. I immediately saw my error there, He came into the world, after all. She asked me to envision it, what would happen if He walked into the room. I kept trying to slip and slide out of doing it, but she kept coming back to it until I said ok. During all if this, by the way, I had the most AWFUL taste in my mouth! It was incredibly bad. I closed my eyes and remembered the scene, and then I visualized Jesus walking into the room through the kitchen door. Then everything in the room froze, like a freeze-frame effect. Jesus beckoned to me, my five-year-old self that I was, to come to Him. I did and He knelt beside me and hugged me and kissed me on my forehead as He held my face in His hands. Then He told me that He couldn't help any of them, indicating my family, because they couldn't even see Him. He asked me if I was willing to be strong and to wait for Him to deliver me from this. He said it would seem like a long time, but He would bring me out. Was I willing to bring peace to my family just by ... being. I said that I was, and He hugged me again and kissed my forehead again. I went back to where I had been standing and He left and everything started up again. All the hysteria and screaming and rage. And that was it. I did feel a lot easier after doing this. She asked me what the kiss meant and I said that it meant that I was a beloved child.
I went to my daughter's apartment and we went to TJMaxx and bought her a shower curtain and a few other things for her apartment. Then we went out and got some sushi and I drove home.
She is afraid to sleep in her bedroom and is sleeping on the couch so she can hear if someone comes in the door. So I researched portable door locks and door alarms and ordered some for her two doors.
I've stayed up very late. I think I'm a little overwhelmed by everything that happened today and I've just stayed kind of zoned out. I'm going to regret this very much tomorrow.
Definitely not cheery today,
Lisa
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