3 years today.
And I'm mad at my mom.
I know we usually glorify the deceased, put them high on a pedastool, remember the pretty good times as wonderfully perfect, the awful times as pretty good, and never speak ill of them. But this is my grief, and so I'll do with it what I want. And lately I've been angry. I'm angry that the majority of the memories I have of my Mom are not pleasant. Actually, when I look back on my childhood, I have very few memories of my Mom at all - good or bad. Not because my mind has failed me, but because she did. Simply put - she wasn't around.
And I'm mad that I wasn't important enough to her. That she would rather stay in bed all day than be actively involved in my life, or even her own. That her bed, books, soap operas, talk shows, computer games, chat rooms, even solitaire were more valuable to her than me. Sure, I have lots of fond memories of snuggling under the covers with her in the mornings before school, or knowing she would be awake from insomnia in the middle of the night when I was sick with fever and could curl up on the recliner with her. She was there when I needed her, but what about when I wanted her?
I'm mad that I had to make excuses for her. That when our church block was early in the morning, we were left orphans on the bench with my dad watching us from the stand. That if people asked where my mom was, we were instructed to tell them that she wasn't feeling well. Is that really what it was? Or was she simply too lazy? Too lazy to just get up? To just be present? That's what it felt like. What it feels like. Was there really a legitemate, underlying excuse? I hope there was. I hope there was a darn good reason. But I am the baby. And baby's aren't told much of adult problems. As it should be I suppose. But I'm not going to make excuses for her any more.
I'm mad that she left me. That she didn't take care of herself. That she didn't care. That she slowly, carefully, put herself on a suicidal mission. That she admitted to us that she was waiting to die. That not even watching my babies, present and future, was enough to break her. To pull her out. To make life worth living.
Why? Why? Why?! What made life so miserable that she wanted so desperately to escape it? What!?
I'm mad that I am mad at her.
I'm mad that she was never truly happy.
And most especially -
I'm mad that now I feel that I am not allowed to be truly happy,
because my mom never was.
That I have to feel and act miserable like my mom,
because it's what I know.
It's what I know.
Because we are supposed to be like our moms.
To want to be like our moms,
right?
I'm mad that I am caught in a cycle. One that I know I don't want to be in. But it's sucking, and pulling, and yanking, and churning. Down...
down....
down...
Stop.
No. I'll not have it. I'll not have that for my kids. Not my kids.
I know what I want to be.
What I want to always remember to be...
Cycle breaker
8 comments:
wow! truly truly powerful.
you can do it. i can do it. go for it.
Honest and raw as can be. What do we all do about this????
Tasha - I am really impressed with your willingness to get be honest about such tough emotions. We may have never talked about this when we lived together, but there was a time in my life when my mother sat me and my siblings down at the kitchen table and said "goodbye" because she planned to end her life that day. It didn't end up happening that day and I still have my mom but she fights the battle to "live" with her depression every day. Some of my siblings have very deep scars due to her illness and how it affected them. I have chosen to not be a victim of her disease but to face it with honesty, acceptance, and (probably not enough) compassion. However, I know without a doubt because of my perspective that I am better equipped to be a mother and to fight that battle if heridity says I have to. My siblings, I don't think, have that same benefit because of their perspective on the whole thing. I know your situation with your mom wasn't the same as mine. However, I really applaud you for being honest with yourself for how you feel which in turn reaffirms the strength and power you possess to create life - YOUR WAY. You are inspiring.
(p.s. THANK YOU THANK YOU for the darling Christmas card.)
Thank you for this.
I needed to read it for so many reasons.
Thanks for sharing this! My mom was raised by a nanny since her mom worked full time and has taught me the importance of being home. Even when Wayne was in school and I was working one or two nights a week to pay the bills I still felt horrible about leaving my babies. I'm glad I feel this way. When I am feeling down I think about my mom. Her father was not a member of the church and was in fact an abusive alcoholic. Her mom, well, that is another tragic story. I do not judge my grandparents because their whole life was full of trials, but I am greatful for my mom for coming through it. My mom is her own self and has raised her children by "Folowing the Prophet" I know that you and I can do the same.
I love your blog, Tasha! Thank you for sharing your insights and honesty with us, your faithful followers! Love ya, Emily
I meant to comment on this when I read it. It has really stayed in my mind. I am so grateful for your honesty, and your willingness to speak the truth as you see it and feel it, and allow us to work through it with you. <3
You have penned the human nature and the struggle to overcome the natural man. It truly IS our duty to be cycle-breakers! Those destructive, negative cycles that we ALL experience.
Beautifully expressed, Tash. Thank you.
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