My therapy session was cancelled today. Frankly I was too tired to even care. I’ve worked thirty-three days straight. Up to fourteen hours a day. I have nobody to blame but myself. It has been my choice. Now I’m going to listen to my body and take a couple of days off. It means missing work but I’m done in. Part of the problem is emotional. (I think)
Last week my grandma died. She was the last of my grandmas and she was special to me. I have often wondered why she was so special to me. She is the mother of my father and his brother, my uncle. The abuse by the uncle haunts me day and night, never, ever going away. I believe the main sources of my PTSD have to do with these two people.
I don’t know if my grandmother knew of any of this or if she did she chose to ignore it. I will never know but for some reason it doesn’t bother me. But it does bother my brother greatly. A few years ago, much to my dismay, he confronted her with what her son (uncle) had done to us kids. She of course became very distraught and denied everything. In her sons defense she turned everything back on us. For some reason I was very, very angry at my brother for doing this and not my grandma. I’m not sure why this is. My grandma didn’t talk to me for a long time and I ended up initiating the contact once again. Except for that break she was always very faithful in keeping contact with us.
I only had f2f contact with her a few times in my life. My sisters and I flew down east to see her in the year 2000. That was the last time I saw her. When I was there I saw on her bedroom dresser a couple of crafty things I had made for her when I was a kid. She had saved them all these years. This really meant something to me. I have nothing from my childhood. We moved so much and lived mainly in motel rooms that everything was lost or was probably just tossed. In my mind she cared enough about me to save something of mine.
There was a lot of stuff that surrounded my relationship with my grandma. But I didn’t let that get in the way. My relationship was with her and not her children. And thankfully in my mind I was able to keep that separate. She and one other son (the good one) are the only contact I have with that side of my family. Now I will most likely have no contact at all. That won’t break my heart.
My grandma was 97 years old and her mind was still sharp. She discovered almost a year ago she was a very talented artist and spent her days and many nights painting.
I loved her despite all the crap. When I got the news she had passed, I cried. I will miss her. deeply