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I'm feeling weird today. Kind of sad, actually. And for no apparent reason.
Things are just bugging me lately, I guess.
For the most part, I've been living my life the past couple years looking forward. I've reflected on the past - here and there - but I've moved forward. I've done my best not to pause for too long on the negative.
But every once in a while I guess it all catches up to me.
Or maybe this is one of those times when I pause on the negative?
I used to have a very close relationship with my brother. I even lived with him and his son for several years a while back. But now that's all gone. I don't recall the last time I talked to my brother. I think it was in October or something. Of course there are reasons for the lack of communication, but it’s still hard sometimes. It’s hard because I considered him to be a dear friend for such a long time, but apparently those feelings weren’t reciprocated. Now that he’s found his new family, he’s content. If he’s happy, I’m happy for him, but I do miss that friendship at times. And I think I miss it so much because I realize and understand that things can never be the way they were. I’ve lost too much respect for him and he would have to move mountains in order to get that back from me. And that, my friends, saddens me greatly because he won’t do that.
Then there’s my one and only sister whom I never had a good relationship with. But things had improved several years back. And now, things are worse than ever. We were never close, not even growing up. I think it’s because she’s so much older than me – not so much older that she could take me under her wings like a child, but old enough to be bothered by me as a child. And that’s carried into adulthood, apparently. It’s pretty unfortunate that I have a biological sister who I wish I could lean on at times, who I have a zillion questions I’d like to ask, but can’t. Because there’s no trust. It’s like we’re strangers.
Fuck, I’m not digging these feelings today… the feelings of fighting back tears.
When I was a carefree child, life was good…until my parents’ divorce. That’s when I learned about trust...or, to be more precise, a lack of trust. I was about 9.
That kind of stuff can really shape a young mind if it’s not handled with care.
I’m wiping tears now. I haven’t done this in a while… cried over my past. I truly thought I was over this… but it molded me and made me who I am today. And while I love who I am and while I’m appreciative of who I am, when I delve back to the root of it... I get sad.
I didn’t have any friends. I couldn’t trust anyone. People said one thing and constantly did another thing. People asked how I was but didn’t listen to my response. So I stopped talking. I started listening. I started observing. And nobody even noticed. I would sit in the closet. Nobody even knew I was there. In the dark. In the corner. Chin resting on my knees. Alone. Listening.
I went to school like I was supposed to but even there I didn’t speak. And nobody bothered to ask me why. In high school, they published things I wrote in the school paper. People would talk about me, about things I wrote like I wasn’t even there...because they didn’t know who I was. They didn’t know what I looked like. It was like I was in the corner of the dark closet. In college, it wasn’t much different. I spoke more in college. I tried to open up my world to trusting again. But I quickly learned that people didn’t really hear what I said. They truly didn’t care. I would stop talking in mid sentence at times just to see if they would realize I didn’t finish a sentence... they never did. It just gave them time to talk. To go on and on because they knew I’d hear. But nobody heard me.
I learned to deal with the fact that many people just didn’t listen; that unless it benefited them or was related to them directly, they just didn’t care enough about anyone other than themselves to hear what I said. I learned to roll more with the punches and I learned to let it go.
It was that or become a hermit.
I was in my early 20s when I finally learned all of this. I think I learned it around the time of my nervous breakdown... around the time I also learned that I should separate myself from my family. Unfortunately I didn’t grasp the family separation thing for another 10 years because stupidly, I thought that family was everything.
It was in my early 20s when I also submerged my life and focused my energy on kids. I had nephews and nieces entering my world and I fell madly in love. The innocence, the love of life, the learning… It was because of those kids that I kept going. It was because of them that I started to live again. I vowed to do whatever I possibly could to ensure their life not be damaged like I thought mine was. So when my brother split from his wife, I moved in with him and his son to help take care of his son. I spent nearly five years playing Mom but being credited as Aunt.
They were the best years of my life because that little boy learned and grew so much and I got to see it first hand and I got to help. It was pure magic.
They were also some of the worst years of my life because I realized I was living my life for someone else who wasn’t even my child and ended up experiencing some of the worst, most intense, most heartbreaking, most gut-wrenching pain in my life when I decided I had to start living for me... when I decided I had to move out... when I told that little boy whom meant the world to me that I was leaving.
Fuck me the tears...the lack of breath...
I was 28, the same age I was when I met my now husband, the same age I was when I realized that I was worth the same love I dished out to everyone else. I was still very close with my brother and his son, but I learned to move forward with MY life… I learned that it was OK to be a little selfish…. I learned to slowly distance myself from my family.
They couldn’t handle and support me when I needed it most, when I realized that indeed I’m a very strong person. I’ve always been independent, but I’ve always been there for everyone else. But then I stopped. I started living my life for me, putting my needs before anyone else’s. And those anyone else’s couldn’t handle it. They started attacking my worth. They started attacking my judgment. They started treating me like the 9 year old in the corner of the dark closet. But this time I stood up to them. This time I made sure I was heard. This time I didn’t stop mid sentence to see if they were listening. This time I screamed my words. This time I believed in myself enough to love myself before anyone else.
And that’s when they backed down until there was nothing anymore. Not even a hello.
And that’s where I am today.
I haven’t heard from my brother and sister in months. They both hurt me deeply when I got married just last year. They both lost any respect I had for them. I don’t hate them because I don’t hate. It takes up too much energy to hate. Instead, it saddens me. It saddens me that we don’t have a good relationship and it saddens me because I don’t think it bothers them as much as it bothers me. It saddens me because I want a child of my own and I’m afraid that child won’t have anyone other than her parents doting on her.
I think that’s where today’s blog/novella stems from... the fact that a part of me is grateful I got my period. I hate admitting that because I so badly want to be a mom. I ache to be a mom. But I’m terrified of the world my child may have to live in… the lack of love and adoration from others... the lack of listening... the lack of helping... the lack of guidance and support. I know I have enough of this to give my child, but the thought of bringing a child into this already cold world scares the shit out of me sometimes. It gets overwhelming at times. She won’t have any little cousins to play with because all of my nephews and nieces are already older. Hell one even had a kid already. All my child will have is me and her dad. And what the fuck happens then if something happens to one of us?
I haven’t relayed these fears to anyone else – not even my husband. And that saddens me, too.
I guess it’s normal to fear the unknown. And I know you can’t hold back on life because of fear… but this isn’t just about me and my life anymore. This is about another human being *I’m* wanting to bring into this world… and I don’t want my child to ache. I don’t want my child to feel unloved. I don’t want my child to feel like she can hide in the closet without being noticed, without being missed.
But how do I prevent ANY of that from happening?
I’m all for change. I thrive on change. And I like taking risks sometimes, too. But is this risk one worth taking?
Is it possible that I’m not a biological mom yet at the age of 35 for a reason? A reason deeper than not trying sooner? A reason that only the Universe knows?
Maybe I won’t be able to handle motherhood.
Maybe that’s why I haven’t been made into a mother yet.
Maybe the Universe is trying to save one child from enduring too much pain.
Maybe...
...maybe it’s time to see the therapist again...
