Well there is one thing... or maybe a few, I've been avoiding writing about lately. My Mother.
- because it's private
- because I'm ashamed
- because it makes me sad
- because I feel lost
- because I'm considering therapy again to learn how to deal with it
So today, I guess I chose to write... a little bit. Just to get it off my chest.
My mom is going through yet another divorce. It's bad. She's having severe financial difficulties, and she lies... she lies lies lies lies! I don't know at this point if she withholds truths or flat out lies to manipulate us. But don't let her know it. She will deny deny deny and then make you out to be the villain in her sad sob story of a life.
Don't get me wrong. I love my mother. I love her too much. She doesn't deserve the amount of love I'm able to give her. My heart should have been permanently closed to her years ago... years after she beat me, called me names, told me I was the reason she hated her life, left me behind, and ultimately damaged my soul. But no, I love her... and I continue to love her despite the years of emotional abuse. Why... because I will NOT be her victim or any other persons.
My mother, she is damaged. But is her damage an excuse for her behavior. I think not. If we all took that rode, this would be a very chaotic world. I chose not to discuss what I feel were wrong doings done to me by my family because then I feel like a cry baby. I can acknowledge what happened. I can learn from them, I can heal, but I don't need to advertise to the world. I don't need people to look at me and think... oh that girl... this happened to her. But right now, without getting into specifics I think I have to vent... just a little bit. Just about the recent garbage that has been thrown on my lap, and weighed heavy on my mind and body.
My grandpa... he hasn't been gone 2 years but, oh the changes that have occurred! While my grandpa lay dying, my mother wouldn't talk to me. She was jealous. She was angry. She hated that my grandma acted more a mother to me than her. But whose fault is that... she left me as a child to be cared for by my grandparents. When my grandpa died, my father died... just like her! But what did she do... be there for her daughter, absolutely not. Instead she flat out abandoned her. And on his deathbed when he asked her to be happy, to take us in, to love us, she said no. Her last conversation with him was her saying... I've done all I can for those girls, they don't need me anymore and I don't need them. Yep, that is my mother. You'd think she was the effing main character in some BS lifetime movie the way she carries on.
Then soon after he passed away things got close - all was well... until she decided she was going to no longer speak with my Grandma. Why? Because she doesn't like my grandma's family... any of them. So long as you come from a womb that belonged to a woman on that side of the family, you were dead to her... and so was anyone who liked them or loved them. Why... because she was jealous. How dare they take attention that should be hers. How pathetic! How needy! How selfish.
So as my grandma sit in her big old house, alone, quiet, she wept, because not even her children could be civil. She not just lost her husband, she was losing her family. But my grandma, she's strong, she is loved by us, her grand kids, and by her cousins my mother hates so much. So she will be okay.
Then she again stopped talking to her oldest girls. We were again dead to her. And for no reason this time but she's stressed, she's angry and she resents us. She wants us to pay for everything, to take care of her, to sacrifice all we have worked for.
She has no money, yet she shops constantly, buys things for the home, pays someone to clean her house, pays someone to do her lawn, etc... please grow up and learn responsibility.
She claims she has no friends, but she has no one in her life she hasn't turned her back on. How did she expect to keep them around.
There has never been another being on this earth that I hated more... but still couldn't stop loving. I thought it was because of the kids... oh those kids, I love them more than life itself. But it's not the kids. I love her because she's my mother. Because there have been (maybe few) good times. Because I know she's broken. But, still... I hate her. I hate her for contaminating my life with negativity that I can't seem to pull myself out of. I hate her for making me feel insecure, inferior, and insignificant. I hate her for making me question myself. But most of all, I hate her for not allowing me to hate her enough not to love her.