Shhh…. I have a secret

So, it is after midnight here, which means I am officially 60 years old.

I don’t feel like I am 60, mostly.

My brain is pretty sure I am 30, but my body feels significantly older.

But right now, I am thinking about my mom. It has been happening a lot lately.

After my first divorce, my kids and I moved home. It was a huge adjustment for all of us.

My dad was starting to slide into a very fast-moving type of Alzheimer’s disease. Basically, he just started to forget things, and within three years, he was dead. He was a month and a half away from being 70, and 6 months away from my folks 50th anniversary.

Mom was lost. I know for a fact that if it hadn’t been for my youngest, my mom wouldn’t have survived. Unfortunately, their relationship ultimately became very co-dependent.

Mom died on Thanksgiving in 2020. Not that my sibling bothered to tell me. I had to find out from the father of my best friend. He had read it in the paper.

I was both livid and heartbroken.

I think it was this last betrayal that has cemented the absolute finality of my relationship with any of them.

I almost wish I could say that this bothered me, but it really doesn’t. My older siblings, well they were not really apart of my life when I was younger. My sister is 9 years older and my brother is 7. They were gone before I was interesting to them.

My younger sister and I were… sisters. Not close and not really competitive. We lived in our own circles. We had things in common and would hang out once in a while. She is 3 1/2 years younger than I. Occasionally, I miss her.

But my anger and betrayal will keep me from even trying to get in touch.

But, I miss my mom.

Mom was 33 when I was born. She would have been 93, if she were still alive. In a way, I am glad that she isn’t so she didn’t see what happened to the family. But, then again, it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t died.

I look at things and I wonder if I am doing the right things for my kids. I know, or rather I hope, that they will be able to step up and help each other cope when I am gone. I hope they will be able to help their dad survive. I am not sure he will without me. Then again, if he dies first, I am not sure I will survive that either.

To be honest, I am not sure I will want to.

But, I would hope that I would pull it together for the kids.

Who are all adults. Sort of.

Independently dependent.

The job of raising kids that are:

Schizophrenic, Autistic, bi-polar and has disassociate identity disorder

Bi-polar, with severe anxiety and PTSD

Severe anxiety disorder and PTSD

Autistic, schizophrenic and epilectic

Autistic and ADHD- no signs of schizophrenia, he’s to old for early onset and to young for adult onset.

Well, the job of raising them will never really be over. Especially for the 2 that can never live on their own.

I am afraid that the day they turn 60, they will sit and wonder where the time has gone, and if they have done everything that they could to keep their relationships intact.

I hope that I am alive to see them at this age. But, I don’t think that I will.

Something is wrong with me. I am dizzy with a buzzing in my ears. I can’t sleep. I think that I am sliding into depression again. Stress… frustration…. loneliness…

And feeling alone, which is ridiculous, considering how many people I live with.

I feel like I have no one I can just let everything out to, without then feeling guilty that I bothered them.

So, yeah. I am sixty today.

My grandmother always said that ‘getting older is better than the alternative.’

My grandmother was a wise woman. I miss her as well.