I have a confession to make….
I need to admit something, to face it in every aspect of my life.
I don’t really know where to begin, how to explain, so this post will probably be all over the place, and I’m sorry for the verbal explosion.
Things have been really hard for me the past year, I’ve been more destroyed about things than I thought I was.
Things being…that whole situation with my mom.
I thought I was okay with it, or at least…as okay as a person can get. I thought that it wasn’t affecting me, but…
It is. It’s actually pretty much destroyed me. I’ve been walking around with a smile on my face, in denial about my feelings about everything but it’s affecting me and everything in and about my life.
Mainly, and most importantly…my relationship with my husband.
All my anger, despair and heartbreak about my mom pours over into my relationship with him. I take things out on him, I’m grouchy and closed off. I snap at him for stupid things, and I get super pissed about insignificant things that shouldn’t make anyone mad.
Matt has been carrying a lot of shit for me for the past year. He’s been shouldering a lot of it, and it’s affecting him because he feels as if he can’t do anything to make me happy. I’m always upset or pissed off about something. It destroys a person to see the love of their life so depressed all the time, and I feel…horrible. I didn’t realize how I was acting. I blamed my anger outbursts and irritable attitude on pregnancy and hormones, and maybe it is…but a lot of it has to do with the mom thing.
I don’t know how to turn it off. Some days, I’m totally 100% fine and happy and I don’t pick fights or cry for no reason. Other days…not so much. I’ve been having a lot of “other days” lately, and I think it’s because she should be here during this time. She should want to be here.
I guess it’s so incredibly hard because, for all her faults, she was a good mom – or at least, the best mom she could be. She was there throughout my childhood. She raised us, and maybe shit got a little messed up in our teen years but my childhood was pretty damn good. She hugged us, she kissed us, she told us she loved us…she parented us, maybe not “perfectly”, but she did.
So to have her decide that her new life was better off without us kids, well…that rips and cuts and twists my heart up in ways I can’t explain.
If she had been the kind of mother who wasn’t ever there, this would be easier. But she was there. She held my hair while I threw up after surgeries, and she slept on the horribly uncomfortable couches at Sick Kids so that I wouldn’t wake up scared and alone when I was a kid. She made sure all of my teachers understood about my disorder and made sure that they would help me catch up on missed work due to surgeries and bad pain days. She held me while I cried about boys teasing me in the school yard. She rushed to my side after my first major break-up, even though I was at my apartment 45 minutes away, after she had already driven out there to drop me off hours before, and took me out for dinner and tried to cheer me up.
She wasn’t perfect, she’s never been perfect, but she was my mom. And it hurts that she resents us for “loosing herself” to being a wife and parent. It hurts that she’s cut us out of our life as if we weren’t her flesh and blood, as if she hadn’t carried us each for 9 months and birthed us.
I have a hard time talking about it because I feel like I should, somehow, be over it. I feel like I should somehow not let it affect me. But…I clearly don’t know how, because even when I think I’m fine with everything, I’m not. Because I’m angry. I’m hurt.
And I don’t know how to fix it, how to fix me. I don’t have closure. I will never have closure because I can never understand why a mother would decide to cut her children out of her life. I will never understand why a mother would choose some guy she met online over the children she raised.
Because it’s been affecting me more than I thought it was, I’m going to look into seeing a counselor. I’m having a hard time learning how to cope with this and deal with it on my own, and maybe a counselor would help. I’m also going to talk to Matt more about what I’m feeling, instead of just blowing up at him because he “doesn’t get it”…the poor man can’t read my mind, and it’s unfair to demand that of him.
I’d also like to thank Blaine for listening to me the past few days. You made me feel less crazy!!!
I’m glad I wrote about this, I feel a lot better. A lot less…weighed down by it.
Now that I’ve written about it, I feel like I can let go of it for the rest of the weekend, and enjoy it with my family.
My dad is on his way up for a short visit, and although I wish he was staying longer than just the afternoon…I can’t wait to see him and spend some time with him. I miss him, a lot.
We also have a pumpkin to carve, and the outside of our house to decorate for Halloween.
So don’t worry, I won’t be sitting in a corner crying. I’ll be busy. I just needed to let this out.