Those flaky words: EAT. PRAY. LOVE. FAMILY. scattered over walls everywhere...
"What shall I do with this Lou Lou?" I looked up at what Priscilla was talking about. The word FAMILY was stuck the the wall. "Remove it!" I said and watched as she tore it off the wall leaving double sided tape on the cupboard wall. I don't feel that family vibe. I am on speaking terms with two of my siblings, one has his head up his arse and the other flagrantly ignores me - even in public. When I see those posts on Facebook about having a sister who means the world to you then share! I am left cold with a stabbing pain. My mother was evil - I am not going to share the "if you have a lovely mum" share on Facebook either.
It's not that I don't believe in family. I look at the kinship that some of my friends have with their siblings or children, while honouring their differences, and think that is the way it is supposed to be. It's supposed to be GOOD ENOUGH - not perfect (thanks DW Winnicott). My family is beyond dysfunctional. There is no loyalty. If I had my way they would all wear red from head to toe permanently - red represents the root chakra, which is the emotional centre governing loyalty and the tribe / family. I wore red to my mother's funeral.
I don't have my own nuclear family either so that perpetuates the lack of light and fluffy feelings, but I also don't know if I could have been a mother with my struggles with mental health. Ironically, it is my struggles with mental health that alienated and continues to alienate me from my siblings. Poor them! I am bipolar! Shame!
Who helped me move? My new housemate and my long-term domestic Priscilla who IS like a sister to me and understands when I can't cope. The extended-Eachus-and-Kruger family made it happen. The people who have been holding me and feeding me over the last three diabolical years.
Baruch HaShem! It was the New Year 5758 on Sunday at 6.18 pm. I am in a new space. Literally and figuratively. I have moved out of necessity as I couldn't pay rent and I have moved into a room in the house of a new friend of about 3 months who has taken me in as an alternative to a psychiatric group home. I have gotten rid of 75% of my physical baggage: clothes, books, paperwork, pretty ornaments, everything that my boyfriends ever gave me (as a purging) and most of my furniture.
That renders the question of my emotional baggage. I have lost almost everything and I have gained freedom from the fear of losing everything. When it happens, it has happened!
Ironically I kept my wire words: LOVE. TRUST. CHILL.