Guilty

I feel so guilty.  And that makes me imagine all kinds of horrid stuff.  I am a worst case scenario kinda girl.  I do that to protect myself.  Thankfully, in my 52 years on planet Earth, the worst I imagined has never happened.  I brace for the inevitable (the proverbial show to drop) and it never does, not really.  And even when life events come close to being the worst they can be, some strange mind altering reaction occurs and I power through.  I tell my therapist I have no choice but to face adversity head on but she reminds me “Jill, yes, yes you do have a choice!”  My invisible code of ethics just won’t let me ignore that which I believe must be endured.  Martyr much?!?!  Yep I think so.

We are almost at the first anniversary of the worst day of my life. Not chronological anniversary that day passed on March 25th without any fanfare.  Last year Good Friday. Every Good Friday to follow, will be marred for me.  Or not, maybe this year can be a turning point.  Forget the past and moved forward.  Wallowing never helped anyone.  On that day occurred a secret I will take to my grave.  So you ask “What the what?!?!?  Some confession J-Dub.  Don’t leave us hanging”.  Well I have to because the story is not mine to tell.

Here is something completely unrelated that I can confess … since I feel the need to testify. What I don’t know for sure is whether this is real or imagined?  Remember I do that, I make sH*t up.  I assume the worst so when it is not the worst, I can cope with the lesser evil.

Anyway, I think Lulu makes up elaborate stories to explain charges on her credit card so that I do not find out what she is really doing.  I do not believe a word she tells me.  What is wrong with me that I cannot trust my kid?  No trust, zero zilch.  Even before I have evidence.

I only trust one person – my Billy Bob.  Everyone else, you’re on my no trust list. What the hell happened to me to be so broken?  I mean really, c’mon.  My default is the world is evil, trust no one, and all my Pollyanna musings are a big freaking cover.

I’d really like to figure out how I can trust my kid again … until or unless she gives me a reason not to.  I really wish I would not ALWAYS assume she is lying.  And that she is lying to cover her binge eating.

When I share some of Lulu’s zany tales to explain her purchases, with my therapist, WD tells me “Jill you can’t know for sure unless you have proof.”  Thing is my imagination is not proof.  I know that.  Then I think do I really want to live my life as Sherlock Holmes incessantly searching for clues or proof to solve the crime? Or do I want to be in denial.  I think the truth of my want lies somewhere in between.

But alas, my issue is not to solved for today, so off I go … out into the “real” world to visit my other two kids.  If you happen to have an opinion or two, or maybe even three on what one does to learn to trust, feel free to drop in a comment or two, or maybe even three :).  I’d love to hear from you.

As always, more to come.