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Sorry I haven't posted in so long. I just felt like I did when I was a kid. Like I was being "watched." No, that's not paranoia, when I was a kid I WAS being watched. To my mother, privacy meant nothing. In a way I don't blame her, but some things....I gotta be careful here I have a daughter....should be off limits.
I had this very thick blank book I used to write in. I always loved writing, and at the time I thought it would be cool to keep a journal. I did for a while but she read it (as did my wife when she was my girlfriend) so I never felt comfortable putting my thoughts down as I thought them because they were NOT private So, other than sporadic comments, I haven't written in it for a very long time. A lot of it chronicles my time in "The Nuthouse" which is very entertaining as you might imagine.
I just got in to it with my Mom.
She used to live in North Carolina with her brother, and she was miserable. So I said, "Hey, enough! If your that miserable, come live with me. (Good son right???) Unlike my sister and I, her and her brother can't seem to get along. They are a lot alike and both of them are very likely Bi-polar (un-diagnosed) so you can imagine the fireworks.
My Mom's parent's were dead by the time she was two years old and she was raised by her aunt for her "formative" years, then went to live with her sister for a while and was finally "on her own" by the time she was sixteen. Great aunt Flora and her husband "Tuck" (the one's that raised her) were monsters. They abused her in so many ways. I've often wished Tuck would have lived long enough for me to get grown and shoot him in the head after torturing him in as many despicable ways as I could imagine. I say all that to say this, she can not accept love. She has never felt loved by anyone, though many HAVE loved her. I took her in to my home even though I had a very rocky marriage and she doesn't see that as love. Nothing I do is ever enough. I know, I'm fifty, I should be "bigger than that" and it shouldn't matter, maybe I should be used to it by now....I'm not.
She is "negative" 24/7, and it gets very very old. If I were a stronger man I would kick her out...but I can't, I DO love her, even though I know she hurts me, my wife and worse of all my dear daughter.
When she first moved up here to Michigan, the plan was for her to live six months with me then six with my sister. Now this was discussed in detail BEFORE ever even saying anything to Mom about moving up here. We figured if she lived with me for six and then her for six, neither of us would go insane. Sooooooooo, as we start for North Carolina, my sister informs me she's pregnant and will be starting a new marriage so she can't take Mom. Fourteen years later she still can't. Fourteen years later my mother is still helping to destroy my marriage, fourteen years later she still infects my eleven year old with her negativity.
So, today I come home from work and she tells me she took three pain pills of one kind (I forget the name) and half a Vicoden.
I said, I've told you, "If your gonna commit suicide, which is what your doing, please keep it to yourself" Sounds horrible right, not really, she does this all the time and I've been through this countless times. I told her, "I know your in pain, but if this doctor can't help you, find one that CAN!" "Just because its prescription doesn't mean it won't kill you!" THAT'S why they call it OVER-dosing!" "I don't want you to die" I said.
So she says, "I don't think you would care at all if I died." That's when I said, Ya know what, I'm not in the mood for this bullsh*t and came to the computer and started clicking keys.
I do love her, but I don't know how to hug a porqupine...I'll keep trying...maybe someday I'll get it right.
Ahhhhhhhh, that feels a tiny bit better. No wonder I'm nuts! If you pray, pray for me, I'm NOT in a good space right now!
Will
