This year having my mom in my care has not only created a change in my mom, I see the changes in me too.
So here is how living with a social butterfly (AKA my mom) is changing me:
1) I used to be such a hermit secluded within my home. Used to be I seldom if ever let people through my front door. It was not unusual for me to talk with guest right in the hallway outside my front door. And I'm not talking about for seconds, I am talking about 15 or 20 minutes out there.
But truthfully, I know what that habit came from. I developed that habit as a kid. Back in the day, if you came through my childhood doors there was a strong possibility you'd see somebody (on any given day, at any given hour) fall down drunk or trying to stagger to the door. When I was way too young, I had already learned to race to the door like the house was on fire in order to get there before a drunk family member. I especially had to get to the door first if it was one of my friends, doing my best to block their view or just rush outside to visit with them -- kind of like I was doing in my adult life.
Now, with my mom living with me, people come through my front door almost everyday.
2) For 20 years I lived isolated in my little one bedroom apartment. I've had two roommates: one for nearly five years; one for just about six months. My five year roommate and I were equal as hermits. My 6 month roommate/cousin called me a hoarder...yikes. When you don't have guests in 20 years, there's no need to make your home ready for company. I am not counting the occasional boyfriend or date in this equation. I was never really inspired by any of them to hook up my home. I was deeply becoming a hermit: my home was dark, my blinds stayed closed, very very few people entered who did not belong. In addition, I was embarrassed, too, by those friends who were clearly well off with fancy beautiful homes and things, beautiful families, or who in my head were always doing better at this thing called life than I was.
So my mom moved in, and I was abruptly and uncomfortably booted out of my comfort zone: my hermit's cave of an apartment. I needed my mom to feel like she was "home." She complained about not having friends here and I actually listened. So, I began to invite friends in my neighborhood over. I began to let them in my cave. I invited people I knew would be the kind of people she would get along well with, and she did. She just wanted to have company, to socialize, to engage with people in the home. It wasn't enough for her to go out to socialize. For her, that social world needed to include home, and I did it. I want to recover as much of her mental health as I can, if that's posible.
So as I landed outside of my comfort zone inviting folks I've known for years into my home for the first time ever, a strange thing happened: I wasn't judged. Yes, these were different friends. These weren't the fancy folks I knew. These were folks I related to already on a more personal note. These were folks I already felt comfortable with, folks I could relate. Then a reciprocal thing began to happen. These folks invited me into their homes. Turns out we were equal who were equally imperfect. We equally had our struggles on display in our homes.
With my mom here, I see that the energy and life that comes through my door regularly (the energy I used to say I hated) actually gives life to my mom. The same energy has even calmed my dog, brought my cat out of hiding, encouraged me to want to regularly welcome guests into my home, and as a result is helping me to shape my home into the type of home that is openly welcoming of guests. Suddenly my home here is like how open my childhood home was. While as a kid, I tried my best to keep folks out, my mom and step-dad always had folks over. They liked to entertain, to laugh, to socialize, to have a lively house. So today, I open my door differently. I no longer barge out into the hallway to greet folks, I stand back so they can say hello to my mom if they want.
3) The days leading up to New Years Day I purged my bedroom. That entire weekend I shut myself up in my bedroom and purged tossing out bags and bags of stuff and things. I rearranged my furniture too into a more functional set up.
There's a brightness now and even a functionality to its flow. I like being in there again after so many years. Actually I am falling back in love with my entire space. My mom entered my room since my purge and simply said WOW. To be honest I'm not done. I even purged my closet and drawers. After 20 years, there really is a lot to bravely let go of. But it feels like my room is shaping into a welcoming space. A space where guests can gather too (like some seem to do). And I WANT to have guests.
I look forward to continuing my purge, to creating space for a positive energy to move about freely. After my room, I will purge my mom's closet, the kitchen cabinets, the hallway between my room and the front door, then I must bravely empty my bookshelves of at least 50% of their contents. It feels like a new life has awoken within me. Oh, and something has happened since I have freed up this space in my bedroom. I'm not exhausted all the time. I mean before I used to always feel tired. I slept a lot for years. Since my room has been freed from stuff, the space is clearer and organized, I love looking at it and I am not tired as much. It's almost as if the old clutter suffocated my energy.
4) I am becoming better with my budget, or at least acknowledging that one must exist and that I must be better about it. I lived so selfishly before. I am not saying that to be judgmental. I am trying to say I was only responsible for me so I thought only of me, but I also only thought in the right now and the immediate. I don't mean I was living in the zen of the moment being fully present. I was without clear focus or a plan. I functioned haphazardly, which is another way of saying I was broke all the time. Having my mom in my care and being responsible for her well-being, having a caretaker who we both adore, having friends and neighbors of my mom back home who continue to help out back home, has required a more deliberate structure my financial life.
So, I have finally, after 12 months of taking care of my mom, decided we will not end this month in the red. I have decided to be deliberate and intentional with my spending for us. Which means, not just buying something spontaneously but planning for it. I have even included my mom in this goal. Letting her know repeatedly when our money is at its leanest. And this time as we enter the month, I put some money aside to be used when we dip into red territory to hopefully pull us back up into the green. Yes, this does mean I am robbing Peter to pay Paul. But I am more determined to keep us out of the red, to put us in the green and to get us moving up in the green from here on out.
What is my new year's resolution?
I have already been asked this question a few times. and I don't have the type of answer I used to have. So I will just write what I've been thinking. Actually it's a word: Action. I keep flashing on the word action every since I felt moved to purge my room, to write a short scene to read with a scene partner from my acting class, to cancel my gym membership, to put on my favorite music in my fabulous room and move my body. I think my new year's resolution is to take action, to do something, and to be consistent, intentional and deliberate with it. What I like about this is that it is a singular focus, and that it is a focus. As I sat on the ride home tonight from work, I wrote out a few actions to take this evening. One was completing this post tonight. I began it on January 4th, but never reviewed it to post. Well, it is now 1:14 AM and I am finally completing it to post. I actually completed it earlier but of course that draft did not save. I almost went to bed promising myself I would do it in the morning, but I decided to keep to my action for the night. Yeah, so my new resolution (I deliberately left out year because I think I want this to be for life)...so my new life resolution is to take consistent, intentional and deliberate action for each day's tasks so that I may chip away at what I visualize.
By the way, I was looking for before and after pictures of my room to post, but I never took before pictures. I guess that was the hermit in me who preferred to stay invisible. So I will put here one of my favorite memes that I think best summarizes my new experiences:
I'm just writing to keep from losing it.