Cathartic- providing psychological relief through the open expression of strong emotions; causing catharsis.
The idea that my blog is cathartic is true and actually inspiring. One of my best high school friends reached out to me last night. From the beautiful island of Bermuda. I love Bermuda, one day I will do a review of the beautiful resorts that I have experienced there. We face-timed for an hour, and laughed about our party days, getting old and raising kids, with grey hair.
My girl is as funny, and truthful as ever. She has four boys and swears all a man has to do is look at her sideways and she’s pregnant. She tells me she’s still taking birth control, “with a side of low dose aspirin.”
The middle-aged women’s drug cocktail. A little birth control, low dose aspirin – few antidepressants, and a couple anxiety meds to keep it all under control. The perfect blend. We should name it. Can I get an amen?
She says this is the weirdest time of our life … a time where we feel 25 on the inside, but we really are not. She said, “mom guilt is real babe”. With what Liv is going through right now it’s hitting hard, although I am really happy things for her have calmed down. She’s looking after herself and doing the work she needs to do to manage her symptoms. And she is creating music again, which I love. We are still at a crossroads for care options. Nothing has really changed as far as what I can do. But we are following through with the options we have available for now- counseling and medication.
I started thinking about this early this morning, the way I grew up. The way my girlfriends and I grew up together. It was the late 80’ early 90’s man, massive hair, Faces 59, and parents that partied. For us, it was lots of stealing booze, cigarettes, and credit cards when they weren’t looking. They didn’t even notice. Privileged, fast white girl existence.
One thing, I asked myself over my cigarette, as an alcoholic/addict how do you break the fucking cycle? So many of my friends are dealing with similar things with their kids. Family, addiction, and mental health all go together, man. A nice little package of shit storm.
I imagine my brain will continue to vomit up traumatic experiences, and shitty choices made. And by helping my child go through some serious stuff. And realizing where I have had a part to play. And sitting with that feeling. And then forgiving myself. The last one is the hardest. But I want to sober up…like really sober up and be present. There are probably easier ways to do it, but I love taking a long way around.
Six months in and all the shit I’ve been suppressing with booze and drugs and work is hitting me like a blinding white light. The kind you see when you hit your head really hard.
It is very cathartic. In a BDSM kinda way…hurts so good.