Two weeks ago my husband and I spent the day in urgent care. As many of you know he works on cars and apparently he was sanding a car and piece of metal ended up under his thumb nail. It was a huge piece of metal that took up his entire nail bed and was embedded the whole way down to his cuticle. When I got home, I found him swearing in front of the bathroom sink, trying to dig it out with tweezers. He asked me to do it and I refused. It was a HUGE piece of metal. We drove to urgent care and and he was swearing the entire time.
This story isn’t really about how my husband got metal under his nail because he’s fine. They took care of him.
But when we were checking in and the girl at the desk (she was really young) almost spilled her milkshake when she moved the mouse on the computer screen. She gasped, ” That would have ruined my entire month if that had spilled!!!!”
I thought about that for a second and really, I’ve been thinking about it ever since. RPL has changed me in a way where it takes a lot of crap for me to actually have a bad day.
- When I’m stuck in traffic.. I think, I’ll get there eventually.
- This morning, I dropped my water bottle across the gym floor (spilling an entire 24 oz of water) and I just got towels and cleaned it up. There was no grumbling and I even joked with an elderly man that I was cleaning the floors and the custodian had the day off.
- I ate moldy Boston Cream pie last weekend and I gagged a bit, threw out the cake, and joked with my MIL that she wasn’t allowed to bring anything to parties anymore. It was so gross! :)
I don’t get mad like I used to. It takes a lot to make me think I’m having a bad day. By a lot, I mean.. it has to be something pretty serious. I wish sometimes that I could go back to those ‘If I spilled my milkshake it would ruin my month’ days, but sometimes, I’m glad I can’t. I’m glad those things do not set me off anymore.
But today.. today was a bad day. Today I wished that a milkshake was the only thing I had to worry about. It has gotten better with the help of My Hope Jar (which I’ll write about in another post), but it was a bad day.
First, I’m currently having my first AF since my miscarriage where I had ‘a super thick uterus lining’ at my last US. So… yeah.. that sucks. I’m glad my body is doing what it’s supposed to do, but it still sucks and probably why I’m crazy emotional. Not only is it awful, but it’s also a reminder that I’m no longer pregnant.. sigh..
But what really set me into tears was when my mom called, she was crying. She was hysterical. My brother went to jail again today. If you’ve been following this blog for awhile, you know all about what it was like for me to grow up with a drug addicted mother, and although she’s been clean for years, it’s my brother’s drug addition that we are worried about now. Sometimes it’s feels like I’m reliving my childhood. He went to jail months ago for drug related charges and a double DUI, but got out in the beginning of August. Now.. he is back in jail.
The other posts I written about him are here:
A Sister’s Love
A Sister’s Love Revisited
Dinner with my Brother
Yep. I hate this day and I miss my brother already
He has been on drug binges since he’s gotten out of prison and I told my mother not to involve me anymore, as I was going through miscarriage limbo at the time. I couldn’t deal with her phone calls about how she was worried he was dead and OD’d because he wasn’t returning her phone calls. I cannot control my brother, his choices, and I’ve done and continue to do everything in my power to help him, but I REFUSE to enable him.
My mother doesn’t understand this.. you see, she’s never had to deal with a drug addict. She’s only ever been one. So now she has no idea how to help my brother and instead she enables him. He always has a soft place to land. I don’t believe prison is the answer. There seemed to be no help whatsoever for him when he was in prison and he fell back into the same life style..and where is he tonight? Prison.
So what’s the answer? The only thing that worked for my mom. Rock bottom. People stopped bailing her out and she had lost everything. Her children, her house, her sisters, and then her husband. She was living in a hotel without anyone, weighing a sickly 85lbs completely addicted to drugs. To this day, I don’t know how she survived. That was her rock bottom, that took decades to get to. She started using cocaine shortly after I was born and didn’t stop until I was around 20..
So where is my brother’s rock bottom? I have no idea. He’s lost everything, his jobs, his family (except my mom who enables him and me who talks to him), he’s lost his son, his house… I don’t know how much further he has to fall. But to watch someone you love destroy their life like this is a miserable feeling… I know my hands are tied. No matter how much I try to separate myself from the situation, I just can’t. I love him too much.
I just wish somedays the only thing I had to worry about was a spilled milkshake. Today is one of those days.