So, you may know from all the talk of my mom being in the hospital and me being pissed that's been going on on Teh Interwebs lately that I'm pretty ride or die when it comes to my mom (I'm actually that way about all the people I truly love in my life). I love that woman to death. She is my Lorelai and I am her Rory (Gilmore Girls for those not in the know), except we have 27 years dividing us instead of 16. I mean, we couldn't be any closer than if we had actually been sisters. We have had conversations that would make other grown woman, mother-daughter pairs leave the room, because they don't understand how we could talk about such things with each other. But, alas, she is still my mother.
I think it may have been some of the mistakes in her past, but they have affected her in an irreversible way. She never used to act quite this way. I wont go into detail on the things she has done (at least not right here, right now...there may be some poetry on it at some point though) but let's just say she's been less than the perfect role model. And I understand. She's a human. I'm a human. If you're reading this, I figure you are a human as well. Humans make mistakes. We also don't always realize how our mistakes affect others, or even ourselves in the long run. Some things CHANGE YOU. Maybe not in a way you can even tell, but they disrupt the core of your being to a point where you aren't always completely recognizable to others anymore. Maybe its not what I think it is. Maybe she just grew a little batty as she got older...but things between us didn't get like this until she did the things she did. Of course, it was never just completely hunky dory and perfect, but it wasn't like this.
I need to get something clear here. MAKING A CHILD DOES NOT ENTITLE YOU TO A GOLD STAR FOR LIFE. Now let me explain my thoughts. I'm not saying that having a child, raising a child to know right from wrong and into a respectable human being doesn't earn you something. It does. It earns you quite a lot, actually. That is something that can never be taken from you, and is the reason why to this day and until my death I can't see myself ever being able to outright curse at my mother. I may have let one slip in the past when I was younger and didn't fully understand the bond and connection and all that she had done for me, but as an aware adult who can curse around her, I couldn't flat out curse at her. No matter how many times I may have wanted to say "fuck you" recently, its not something I could ever actually do.
Sidebar: I know I sound like a pretty huge ingrate right now, especially with the eff bomb thrown out there like that, but allow be to continue.
No matter what she does to me I will still love and to a degree, respect her. My unconditional love doesn't mean I get to be the kid labeled "kick me" though. There's only so much a person can take, and I'm truly at a breaking point with her. I know she has unconditional love for me as well, but its kind of hard to see. I was watching the episode of "Life, Unexpected" where they are all at this family dinner today, and everything the new parents said to their parents rang true in my heart. I may not be a parent, so its possible that I don't understand all of the dynamics involved in raising a child, but I thought that you were supposed to make your children feel loved and protected and supported. So far, I feel like a 14 year old with three illegitimate children and stupid stamped on my forehead, who's in the process of being sent to a shelter. I don't know how it works exactly when you have a child, but I know that when I am worried about someone I love, I am genuinely worried about them. I really don't care what they are doing or where they are or who they are with; I just want to know they are alive and safe, and plan on continuing to be. I mean sure, depending on the situation, there is a point to be raised that a simple phone call would have been nice, but I don't even get that. I mean I get it, but it isn't real. Its not genuine. I went off a couple of times on twitter recently about pissing on me and calling it rain....and how one shouldn't do it to me. I mean, if you just wanted to call to find out where I was, then do that. If you want me to tell you what I'm doing, then ask me that. If a simple phone call is all that actually would suffice, don't find a way to get in an argument with me about things that don't even pertain to the situation at hand when I make the call. Let the call suffice, or don't tell me it will. Don't piss on me and call it mufuckin' rain.
This is going to get into some real shit I deal with as a human being. I don't give a fuck what you or anyone else thinks of me after I write this, but try not to judge me if at all possible. I'm human, I have issues and problems. They may not be like yours, but they happen.
I never knew that I could rack up two out of three strikes when I didn't know the reasoning behind the strikes, or that I had even received the first one. Now, some who know the situation may argue that I could have figured them out. However, coming from the standpoint that my mother and I have agreed upon on countless occasions, that assuming things is not what one should do, or in the least act on, I didn't really have a clue. In my mind, the fact that I could rack up two of three strikes without warning means I could possibly be kicked out at any moment, for any reason. Which is bullshit. In my mind, the fact that you would've had me slide down my driveway and all the way from the west side of Atlanta to the east side (literally, from I-285 on the west to 2 exits from I-285, traveling on I-20 east) the day the snow froze into ice so I could close your blinds and stay in your house so no one would steal your things while you were in the hospital (yes, you told me so...you know who you are...and I didn't do it so :-P), but yet cited possible bad roads conditions as a reason I couldn't visit a friend before it even got cold enough for the roads to be bad a month later...makes me yearn to scream bullshit in your face. In my mind, the fact that you threaten to put my scared, hates to be outside, shelter-rescued indoor cat outside in the dead middle of winter if I don't come home at a certain time (a time which I was never told, by the way), doesn't mean you just really want me home at that time (whatever time you may decide it to be at any moment)....it more so translates to you being a heartless bitch. Especially since you know this about the cat already and was even there by my side retrieving said cat when the family friend he was staying with did the EXACT SAME THING (not for the same reasons, of course). You were all for looking after the cat when he had nowhere else to stay because I hadn't yet convinced the person I was living with to tolerate him/my apartment was only a windless version of sitting outside. But now, he's "just a cat". Now, I'm told that you don't care what I do with him, as long as I take him with me when I leave (which I was previously told was for when I left for extended periods of time...now its whenever you decide). This doesn't feel like love. Actions thunder over pitifully murmured words in this case. These actions don't say "love". "Caring" seems to be missing as well. This is something we've even discussed before...maybe you still didn't get that I need you to CARE ABOUT ME as well. You want control. You want control over fire fueled by fire and doused with air (more on this at another time). The combination doesn't really sound like anything controllable, and I don't know if you've seen a fire stuck in a container, but it tends to die out. Nnot to mention all of this is quite brand new. It wasn't like this in high school. It wasn't like this in college. Fact: it has NEVER been like this. Yet somehow, I, as a 26 year old college graduate with no children or addictions, who cleans up after herself, who hasn't asked you for a single penny to put gas in her car, pay her bills, buy her food, or even wash her clothes (despite the fact that she's unemployed), am reduced to a room offering limited privacy where I sit, am being treated like, and feel like a 14 year old with three illegitimate children and stupid stamped on my forehead, who's about to be sent to a shelter.
It isn't healthy for someone to feel like finding a way to put her car in a ditch on one of those forced trips to your house just so you'll know what caring for her feels like. Wrapping her seatbelt and airbag around a guard rail, or a rope around her neck in your bathroom just so you can experience actual worry for her (instead of the phone call asking for your house key to be returned), doesn't seem like the right route to take. Thinking of any means necessary, rather it be removing clothing in front of strangers or outright selling her precious moments for a quick dollar, just to get out of your house without having to sleep in her car, don't feel like thoughts that should enter into the head of someone who feels loved.
Trying to get back on my good side by "helping" me here and there isn't going to work this time. It stopped working for a time in the past, but I let the situation change. Sometimes you have to experience something multiple times to learn. You know what would truly help me? Just let me be. I'm not doing anything to outright bother you, just let me be. If I was doing something to bother you don't tell me I'm not when I ask; I can't fix something if I don't know its broken. No matter how strong my psychic powers are or may come to be, I can't read your mind. You have to tell me things. I understand that you're of the thought process of seeing is believing, but just because you don't see where I'm doing something or how what I'm doing is actually helping me with what I ultimately want to do, that doesn't mean it isn't getting done. I love how people, with less than perfect vision, who sleep a third of their lives away, and aren't omnipresent or omniscient can see what I'm doing all of the time, or even enough to judge it (this is for all of you like that).
I've vented enough about this for now. I love my mother, I truly do. And those who know me for real know that. They also know what I've been through with her. It isn't right. To all my people with kids or kids on the way, be loving and caring parents to your children. Support them. Let them know they are special. Be understanding of who they are. If they like running...let em run. Get em an indoor track membership in the winter. Let them be who they are. Guide and protect them, but love them above all.
G'Night.
