Best Birthday Card Ever

So today is my birthday — I’m 44 now (*gulp*) — and although I had told her not to worry about it, my Mom bought me a birthday card.  When she handed it to me, she hugged me and said, “I mean every word.”  She even signed it herself, which is hard for her to do because her hands shake so much.

I actually cried when I read it because it was so beautiful and because I felt so much love.  Sometimes it’s hard for me to really feel loved, so this is a special moment and I want to share it with all of you.  xx


Maybe There IS A Reason

Something weird happened tonight.  Mom and I were having one of our “deep discussions,” and the subject of my birth came up.  Now I know she’s told me this story previously, but for some reason I never really heard it.

When Mom was pregnant with me, she was really sick.  She actually lost weight instead of gaining (24 pounds, to be exact) and had to carry a bucket with her everywhere (gross, I know, but it’s important to understand the hell she went through to have me).  She didn’t get to have one of those glowy-happy pregnancies.  She had gall stones and a kidney infection and had to be put on bed rest for the last two months of her pregnancy.  Then it took her almost 36 hours to push me out; I was a breech baby that should have been delivered via C-section but, for some odd reason, wasn’t.  My parents didn’t even take a photo of me right after I was born because I had a huge dent in my forehead from being pushed out, lol.  None of this is the thing I’m talking about hearing tonight but it’s all good background.

So anyway, Mom went to see her obstetrician for her follow-up and it was then he told her that it was a miracle that she had even been able to have me.  Her pelvis was too narrow and there were other complications.  Like I said, Mom has told me this story before … numerous times.  But tonight, I heard that it was amazing she had gotten pregnant to begin with, let alone been able to bring me to full-term and successfully give birth to me.  And I started thinking, maybe I’m not a mistake.  Maybe there really is a reason I’m here.  (Still here, I should say, after several suicide attempts.)  And for the first time in a long time, I feel a spark of hope.  Mom and I both overcame the odds to have each other as family.  What she went through can’t have been for nothing; what I’ve gone through can’t have been for nothing.  I don’t know what my purpose is, but even the idea that I could have a purpose is such a foreign thought that it made me smile — I’m talking a full-teeth grin.  It also made her smile when I expressed what I was thinking.

Moments like these are meant to be cherished and I do.
♥ love & light


It isn’t often that I refer to myself as “lucky,” but today I am.  Mom wanted to feed her coffee habit and I was splurging and having a root beer, so we grabbed Sam and decided to go to Steak ‘n Shake which isn’t even four miles from our house.  But those four miles turned out to be perilous today.  As I was driving along, actually doing the speed limit (go me!) and navigating the holiday traffic, out of the corner my eye I saw a car coming straight at us and the only thing I could do because of their speed was swerve as much as possible.  The problem with that was the oncoming traffic in the area I was trying to swerve.  We got t-boned pretty good so the car is a mess but the most important thing was that Mom was okay, and Sam was okay, and it could have been so much worse.  Mom said that if I hadn’t reacted so quickly and swerved as much as I did, her door would have been directly hit, and it might have been a completely different story.  The other driver and I pulled over and I’m ashamed to say that it was so scary I broke down, especially when I saw the door on Mom and Sam’s side.  I can’t express or explain how I felt when I saw the damage where my family was sitting and thought about how close the other car came to hitting them.  I just cried and cried and held Sam close.

So today I feel so lucky and blessed and grateful that no one got hurt seriously and that Sam seems to be okay.  I’m going to keep an eye on him the next few days and if he acts weird at all, I’m taking him to the vet.  The other driver admitted full responsibility and got a citation, so now we have to get in contact with his insurance and get our car fixed.  But that part, as annoying and inconvenient as it is, is nothing compared to the thought of losing my mom and my dog.

I don’t know where, or even if, I stand on religion but I did find myself whispering in my head, “Thank you for protecting them.”  I don’t know who I was talking to, but I think that’s a question for another day.  I just want to snuggle up with Sam and be grateful for what I have.

Mom’s Painful Start to the New Year

I’m sorry that I haven’t responded to comments, etc.  I had to take Mom to the ER on Wednesday because her back had gotten so bad she could barely move.  Turns out she has “significant arthritis,” sciatica, something wrong with “a couple disks” that I can’t remember what they called it and she had burst a cyst; the pain of the latter  is what finally got her to stop being stubborn and let me take her somewhere.  I kept begging but she waited until she couldn’t walk without screaming before she let me step in and get her to the ER for help.

Anyway, she’s tired, I’m tired, Sam and Lucy are whacked out because everyone’s routine has been interrupted … And seeing Mom in the hospital bed looking so pale and fragile is sticking with me.  When they were doing the X-Rays and the MRI, I was almost floating above my body from the strength of the stress; I had to keep flicking my wrist with a rubber band to keep myself present.  I might be an adult in chronological years, but I don’t know how to handle things like an adult would.  All of this has made me think about what I’m going to do as Mom ages and more responsibility is put on me.  That’s actually the cheerful thought, because when I continue the scenario it takes me to Mom’s dea** and I refuse to go down that road of thought.  If I even think it, something bad could — and probably will — happen.

Word to the wise, 2015:  You’d better straighten up fast.  A mother in agony, and a frightened Lauren, is not a good way to start the new year.


Warning: This is not a shiny, happy post and is going to contain reference to self-harm, even if only in a vague way.  And it’s long so you might want to grab a drink.  🙂

I’ll start this off by saying I know I’m a shitty person.  I have a lot to work on, especially anger management — actually, emotion regulation in general.  I’m fighting hard right now not to scream because I’m so pissed and feeling so trapped.  When Mom and I are fighting, I have nowhere to go.  It’s a 990 square foot apartment and our bedrooms are right fucking next to each other.  Yesterday we went to the movies (saw “Mockingjay Part I,” which was a present for me since Mom doesn’t like the films) and then we came home and Mom went to bed really early.  She didn’t feel well, or so she says.  The last few days she seems to be feeling well/not well depending on what’s going on.  Anyway, I felt abandoned and I admit it, and I know that’s a bad response.  She has the right to go to bed whenever she wants.  But it was Christmas, and I was extremely sad, and I didn’t want to be alone.  (I want to mention that she did this last Christmas too.  I don’t think she wants to deal with the pain of the holiday and I get that.  Obviously, I get that.  I really am trying hard to be fair here.)  Then she started crying and I ended up telling her it was fine, I was fine, don’t worry about me.  And I was so far from fucking fine, but whatever.  What I needed was unimportant.   I fought the urge to cut and was successful.  Yay me. /end sarcasm

Continue reading “Trapped”