Hoarders

So tonight I watched Hoarders on A&E for the first time. I'd caught glimpses of the show before but never watched a whole episode. I thought I would find it difficult to watch and I did. My mom was a hoarder. I grew up in a house like some of those. Not near as bad as many but without my sister and I it could have been. The second episode was a woman named Augustine. I can say without doubt that if my mother hadn't died she would have eventually became Augustine. I guess it's difficult to watch because of the shame I felt. The shame when my friends came over and our house was a wreck. Obviously it wasn't as bad as some of the episodes that air because I wouldn't have let friends over at all. There were times though. And there was a room you could never get into. And then we got roaches. And my mom's sickness got worse after my sister died. I turned farther into drugs and alcohol and my mom turned farther into shopping. And if I'm honest I have some of the shopping problem myself. I recently started keeping a check register even for my debit cards because I'm tired of being financially irresponsible. I have a seriously long way to go & it's the one thing that still holds lots of shame for me. I've come a long way already because I have to make sure that Nana is taken care of and I don't like telling her we don't have something. But sometimes I have to and that's ok when I've been doing the right thing. It's hard when I haven't. And I know to be a better, happier me then I have to get rid of the shame. I felt so sorry for those kids tonight, grown or otherwise, because even if you are grown that person is still your family. I wish the show focused a bit on the recovery. At least let us know if 6 months to a year later they were better. I know that there are a lot of layers that trash is covering up.
Intervention was just to much. When that girl was sticking a needle in her neck I just about threw up. I never shot drugs. I knew a few that did but I never liked to even be in the same room. I guess it upsets me because I know what my 'yets' are and I know that is one of them. I know drugs started out as a fun social thing and it wasn't that way down the road. So that's my emotional evening. I made myself keep watching Hoarders because I think there is probably some emotions there that I need to face. Some shame I need to let go of.

Bah Humbug!

I used to love this time of year. I used to enjoy searching for just the right gift for my friends and family members. I especially loved going shopping for my sister. We stuffed each others stockings and it was always my favorite thing to get and my favorite thing to shop for. Since my sister died my mom took up the job and since her death my cousin does it. It's my only surprise and I appreciate her efforts dearly.

But honestly I don't like this time of year anymore. It seems lately that it's just a big reminder of what I don't have anymore. I KNOW I have LOTS to be thankful for, but for some reason I can't seem to get past the loss today. It doesn't make any sense to me how I can be so full of joy as I was last weekend and back to down in the dumps today. I'm blaming it on hormones. Maybe it's all because I'm an alcoholic. I get resentful for all the work involved for such little time together because we can't seem to get away from each other fast enough. We all spend so little actual time together that we have little to talk about when we are together. I hate the strain. I hate missing my mom and sister. I hate decorating the tree by myself. You'd think I'd get some satisfaction out of doing it for Nana and I do a bit, but it's like she knows her best Christmas's are behind her.

I'm whining and I know it. I thought maybe if I put it down here then maybe I could stop running it all in my head because my head isn't fixing my head right now. Well never. lol But I do have hope, hope that I'll get the Christmas magic back someday. I've been on the verge of tears all afternoon and after I just heard this great quote on tv I think if I go have a good cry then maybe I'll feel better.

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.
~Irving Washington