Friday, March 15, 2024

 Friday, March 15, 2024

 

   I woke up around 3:30 to go to the bathroom and fell back asleep till 4:30. I was up; I might as well get up. The first thing I did was call T-Mobile. I had trouble getting my phone to connect to the charging cord again. I tried both the cords I had. Neither worked. I wiped down the plug on one of them with alcohol and got it to connect. The T-Mobile representative was a delight. She recommended I get a remote charger. You don't have to plug your phone in; you place your phone on the charger. Sounded good.

    Judy called. I told her about my phone issue. She declared the charging cords wear out quickly and need to be replaced. I've heard that before. When I took my phone to T-Mobile when I first encountered this problem, the rep told me that the outlet on my phone was very dirty, preventing contact. I bought a special kit with tools to clean it. That helped. 

   It's just nerve-racking to think of being unable to charge the phone and having to wait forty-eight hours for a new one.

   I have fallen into Fr. Gregory Boyle's rabbit hole. I am listening to all the videos on him I can find. I love his message of inclusion for all and the way he speaks. I also love his attitude toward service and healing.

   He said something that struck home for me. A lot of the people he dealt with had mothers who were frightened or frightening. They probably go together. He said children like that never learn to self-soothe because they never were soothed. 

       I think this is my situation. It is very difficult to calm myself. In the past, that inner disturbance rapidly became outer. I have more control over it now, but I can still suffer. 

     Self-soothing for me was dancing. I danced my little heart out until anxiety and fear were expunged. This is before the era of expressive social dancing. I did interpretive modern dance, me and Isadore Duncan. I lost myself in dance. Without it, I doubt I would have made it to adulthood with any sanity left. I feel for that little kid, subjected to that frightened, explosive mom.

    Note: my mom wasn't like some of the moms the Home Boys describe. She was devoted to her children. I thought she hated being a mom. She was shocked when I told her so at the end of her life. No, she loved being a mom. She sure had me fooled. How can anyone enjoy being dissatisfied with everything your children do and don't do all the time and enjoy it? She was constantly angry. Anger was her way to self-soothe. It wasn't available to me because I had learned that being angry at people hurts them. Her behavior caused her no remorse, no shame. Remarkable.

   At one point toward the end of my mother's life,  my sister told her that she had ruined her life. Later in the day, when I visited with her, she told me what my sister had said. My mother's response: "Maybe I wasn't hard enough on  her." Holy cow! My mom lived in an upside-down world.