I'm growing more used to the idea that I need my anti-depressants to stay level. And, *that* makes me uncomfortable. That belief has more to do with other people's opinions than with what's healthy for me but it's a strong one even though I'm not a subscriber to the notion that we have to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. What a load of shit that myth is and how much suffering it's probably contributed to. But, despite my discomfort, I generally manage to do what needs done. (Just ignore the dirty dishes in my sink-they don't count.) That attitude coupled with my innate stubbornness made following through on blocking my mother from emailing or phoning me much less difficult. The guilt still followed, naturally. What kind of person has to take that step? What kind of person *can* take that step? The Anita kind, I guess. Further to that, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that Angie will no longer answer her phone or return my calls. It still stings, though. And, of course, I've got that nagging voice in the back of my head asking what it's going to be like to go to the newphew's first birthday party next weekend. Only one way to find out.
Thinking about boundaries, labels, relationships all at the same time a lot lately but more on that another day.
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