I Can Do Hard Things & So Can You by Melissa Rosella

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I had a crush on a blonde-haired, blue-eyed skinny boy my freshman year of high school. He played in the band and I somehow volunteered to be a band-aide. I set out all the batons for the majorettes before they performed. I traveled all over with the band via school bus. I had fun and I stared at him quite a bit.

He was my crank- addicted, pot smoking, beautiful blue-eyed best friend’s brother and I was in love with him. I loved him and thought he was adorable. We began dating and he turned around and called me a ‘slut.’

It hurt.

My naturally gorgeous and voluptuous lips stuck out quite a bit when I had braces for 6 years. My braces really accentuated my lips and only made them stick out more. They called me “n&*(%^ lips.’

It hurt.

A jock took out his science book in class one day, looked at me, held up the book, and said, “You are as flat as this book.”

It hurt.

A girl was jealous of me because I was dating her ex-boyfriend and pushed me into my locker really hard.

It hurt.

My mom developed schizophrenia at age 44, I was 15.

It hurt.

She became completely obsessed with the bible, seeking her guardian angel, and lost weight.

It hurt.

She stabbed herself with a fork because she was fighting for the Lord.

It hurt.

Once, I found blood droplets on the porch and when I asked about it, she said the Lord and the devil got in a fight and the Lord had won.

It hurt.

She kept me up because she chanted hymns over and over and over, again, all night long and her eyes were big and non-blinking.

It hurt.
She drove with her eyes closed, told me I was going to rot in hell, told me she was divorcing my stepfather, and would disappear in the woods.

It hurt.

She was committed to a mental institution for a month. My mom could no longer care for me and my stepfather blamed me. I had to leave my mom.

It hurt.

My stepfather told me I caused my mom’s schizophrenia when I was 15 & when I finally mustered up the courage, guts, and bravery to tell him so at age 38, he told me I was full of shit.

It hurt.

I’ve been hurt a lot in my life. I think most of us have. There are mean people in this world and you are going to encounter them and they are going to say things to you. You have to stop and ask yourself if what they are saying is true. And if what they have said is not true, you must let it go. It’s really hard to let go, but super easy to say.

Sometimes, you have to forgive someone that doesn’t even know they need it because they do not see fault in themselves. It’s hard, but to be truly free, you have to let that shit go and forgive that person that did you wrong even if they don’t admit they were wrong. You have to do it for you.

I’ve had to make some really hard phone calls regarding my mom and power of attorney and mental health and psychiatrists and I’ve been put through the fucking ringer. I’ve had a lot of guilt trips and shame shit storms and crying spells and traumatic spells and have had to have some really hard conversations with some not every nice people, but ya know what, you do it anyway.

When you believe in taking care of another soul, the way I feel about taking care of my mom, you make the hard phone calls and if you cry, so be it. You take control of the situation. If someone you love is being taken advantage of, you take control and you take steps to assure that loved one is cared for and their best interest is at the very center of your being.

You do the hard things to help those around you have a better life, even if you are shaking and scared and crying, you do it anyway. & if they hang up, you call back. & if they say nasty things, you do it anyway. & you pray a whole lot.

Recently, someone was claimed power of attorney (medical) for my mom and I was not alerted of such a claim even after my ill mom requested it. My mom was ignored and not heard and not seen and not counted. This person has no fucking care in the world for my mom, but she does drive her to and from the doctor’s office. That is not caring for someone. Caring is taking notes and asking questions and holding my mom’s hand and asking the hard questions about what medications are best for her delusions and alleged voices in her head. To not even know her psychiatrist is to not give two shits about my mother. Everything starts with mental health. If your noggin is off, your whole entire being is off.

I’m taking control. I’m taking two flights, driving 3 hours, and hanging with my not so loved stepfather in the name of taking care of my mom and being her ally and friend and liaison and her mental health advocate.

I’m taking my mom to her psych and I’m asking the hard questions and it may make the man a bit nervous, but by golly, my mom’s comfort and happiness and quality of life matter more to me than his temporary discomfort. We have got to get my mom on the right cocktail of medications to help her be her happiest and most comfortable self.

I’m ready and not a single bully ass mother fucker is going to stop me from taking control of my mom’s care, as I have her best interest at heart. I don’t care about the money side of things, but I do care that my mom’s voice is heard and her wishes are granted and met by any means possible. She deserves to be happy and free and heard. & not one single person is going to take me away from my goal of helping my mom reach her peak happiness level.

I’ll be damned. I’ll take people to court if I have to. That is my mom and she raised me well and it is time to return the God Damn favor. Watch out, world, watch the fuck out, because I’m unstoppable when it comes to protecting those I love.

& your loud ass bully voice will not stop me

& your guilt trips will not stop me

& your nasty and rude tone will not stop me

& your disbelief that little ole’ me can’t take care of my mom will not stop me

& your bully of a dad, for whom has never ever said I love you, will not stop me

& your list of how great you are, how long you’ve driven, or how long you’ve helped out will not stop me

I will do whatever I need to do and whatever I wish to do to help my mom’s quality of life be at an all-time high.

Glennon Melton Doyle always says we can do hard things and the truth is we have to do what we have to do even if it sucks a big one. I have not been involved in my mom’s care the way that I should have been because I was stuck in my own emotional turmoil, but now I can move forward and be her ally and advocate and be in her corner and help lift her up and better her life by being the voice she does not feel comfortable using. I will step up for my mom & be my mom’s voice when she is afraid. I am not afraid to be my mom’s ally. And you do the things you have to even if it is hard and scary and you want to run the other direction and hop in a hole and hide. Even when others don’t like you, shame you, or make you feel small and unimportant, you still do the right thing and stand up for those you love and you pray really hard.

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