Well, well, well, look who appeared in her bed at 5 am this morning. Rehab is still not an option for her. I told her she has to find somewhere else to stay until she gets sober. Her dad is coming to collect her tomorrow.
I don’t really blame her for not wanting to go. Being 23 and told to stop partying is a big fuckling wet blanket. That’s what I was doing at 23, probably a lot of us too. Some people get over it, some don’t. I wonder which one of her future therapy sessions this will be in down the road.
I’m glad I get the chance to talk to her again after Thursday, I understand why she keeps her lifestyle, I just know that I can’t live with it. How can she actually feel what she’s feeling while being fucked up all the time? You can’t process anything like that. Emotions like anger and sadness that come along with life are not as easy to process as the happy ones like being loved and experiencing happiness.
If we had to go through life processing our bad feelings at the moment of impact, we’d probably fucking die. Think of all the good memories, and how passionate we are about them, we must have the same passion in the bad ones…no wonder we all fuck off to the bar and drug scene. Being able to not process it, then and there is a natural defense mechanism. It’s only later we start to think about it and manifest some shit. . I guess Liv needs to recognize it’s affecting her daily life. And her ability to have healthy relationships. Kettle calling the pot black over here, I guess that’s what I will be working on too, creating healthy relationships.
My mum told me when I was 13, that she was a war orphan and had been adopted. It didn’t affect me in any other way except being surprised, and a bit sad for her. I asked her lots of questions about it, but she never really said much. Over the years, she shared she had been found under a table, in a rubble pile, and that she had a brother. I never found out when she knew she was adopted. Did she find out when she was 13? She never talked about her family in a bad way. I’m sure they treated her well, in fact financially they gave her everything. But even as a kid, it was obvious to me, that she was treated differently than her brothers. Whenever her parents would visit from overseas, it was a big production. The house was deep cleaned, all the good silver and china was brought out, and formal linens. Weird things like the toast rack would come out…who uses a toast rack? It was so unreal of what our actual day-to-day life was like. We had to be on our best behavior at all times. and keep the house as orderly as it could possibly be, even organized playtime. She never said but I imagine she was told she was different and told often so it was clear that she wasn’t the same. She was sent off to boarding school, and then to “finishing school” in Switzerland. She said she had wanted to go to university, but that her parents wouldn’t allow it. It all felt very strained, and I remember being terrified of my “granny”.
Carole was a very creative and artistic human being, and I bet she was a handful. She was about 23 when she ran off to Paris to pursue her dream of being a dancer, Paris lead to Las Vegas. Somehow I don’t think that’s what her parents intended with all her formal ballet training. Las Vegas was just beginning to build up in the early ’60s. Beauty and talent. Unstoppable, except for mental illness and addiction. She even pushed through that for a while.
I wonder how her life and experience growing up affected her ability to have healthy relationships. I think of my mum and our relationship every time I have some drama come up with my girls. How she looked after me when I was a teenager, all-girls trips spent together, we were all really close with my mum. She gave us a lot of love. She made a lot of mistakes and she was amazing. It’s possible for people to do and be both.