Writing the book of Ruth

Dear Friends and Fellow Bloggers, I hope that you are as well as you can be. When I was little, I asked my mother why she had named me Ruth. Her answer was that I should read the book of Ruth in the bible as the staunch Anglican she was. I took to the bible and turned each page of the Book of Ruth with increasing dismay. It struck me that this Ruth had an ongoing life of distress and hard work, let alone a pesky mother in law that ended up trying to do the right thing for her. However, there was still all of that wheat hauling, been addressed by security and perfuming ones way into a new marriage. Sounded awfully hard.

I recently came out of a psych ward to adjust meds and meet with my mental health team more often. The pillar I was supposed to focus on when leaving the hospital was supposed to be about building boundaries. About looking after me, laying down the proverbial wheat, and realizing that I do not have children anymore. That I have adult kids all above the age of 16. That not every moment was was about catering, cleaning whilst trying to keep it together on repeat. That the next phase could be a differet time for me. I could spend more time with me. Find out who I am. I have been a mother since I’ve been sixteen and mentally ill since much more before then not unlike the undending challenges of Biblical Ruth.

I found out that I am going to be a grandmother in two months a few days ago. I am completely shaken by this. In my culture, the grandmother looks after the newborn and it’s never questioned. I feel guilty for wanting to breathe and have time just for myself and not to have to care for anyone else let alone my swirling mind and being that is a pleasant misery to be in each day. I don’t want to mother anyone else anymore. I want to spend more time actually getting better and being honest about disabling systems – like not sleeping – that affects each day. I am angry that never get to put the wheat down and it makes me really sad. Now should be a happy time when its just worrisome instead.