What a strange path I took to find my heart. It has been a strange journey for Mz. R.E. The things I’ve done and seen, the mortal boundaries both thoughtfully … Continue reading Not Quite Whole
I was 14 years old when I learned that it was actually the norm to not just love your mother but like her, adore her, have her treat you like you are indeed a person.
I was 16 when I learned that it was common for her to be a close confidant and respected person in ones life.
My most prominent memories of my mother are of resentment and her treating me like an object she owned and her servant. And for a long time I thought that’s how it was supposed to be. No one in my family ever said different and I just never brought it up to my friends.
The crazy part is, I found a picture today of myself as 5 year old girl with my mother and I remember it wasn’t like that at all. But I can’t recall when or how it changed.
I know I changed when she made me reloacte to small town hell and I know she changed when she saw my I unhappiness coupled with her preexisting depression and her troubles conceiving a baby after myself and my brother. Truth be told most who know me know I don’t care for my mother and it would appear that I never have. She was a shitty person. And she did shitty things to me and my brother and dad and she didn’t care.
She died two years ago. I wasn’t very cut up about it.
A month ago I dreamt of her. I was in a community hall back home and it was dimly lit. And sitting around a circular table were all the versions of my mother I’ve seen throughout our life. I was a little weary hahaha! But I sat I wanted to speak to her. And that’s when I realized after this long Fucken internal battle with myself over our life and what she did to me and how I treated her because of it that I felt as though I should be nicer because I love her but at the same time she failed hard as a mother and I just couldn’t ever treat her the way she thought I should.
I have always loved my mom. But fuck me if I didn’t Fucken loathe her. But 20 years ago I not only loved her I trusted her and felt safe and protected when I was with her. I knew she would kick a baby to save my life. She was this bright, active, caring, intelligent, nurturing woman. She took care of us and she gave a shit. My mom who I had until I was 11 is my mom. I love her and I lost her the winter I was 11. But every now and then I would get glimpses of her as an adult. And I was on that shit like white on rice. I spent every moment she was like that with her.
My mother was an amazing woman who was too self conscious to see what she was capable of. And her mental illness won the war after a hard year in our family.
Trust me I am not making excuses for her. She shit the bed hard and failed my brother and myself in the most Fucken epic hurtful ways. She was a cunt for the last 15 years and I made sure she knew I felt that way.
But back to the dream. I told her that the version in the tye dye with the long hair was my favorite her. She was the mom I remember when I think of the happy. I didn’t like who she turned into. She gave up and took it out on us. Among other crap.
But I told her she was my favorite version of her and I’m sorry but I hated the others. They betrayed me and stole from me and spread lies and cost us a family member becasue she became a selfish coward and she told me she already knew that and it was ok. She hugged me and we smiled and the dream ended as abruptly as it started.
And I don’t expect anyone to hop on my theory boat here. But I only dream of people when I truly deep down miss them or need them and I believe it’s really them just because of how I feel when it’s over and the way the dream plays out.
And I truly miss her. I have always loved my mother. The mom that was there when I was little is the reason I kept coming back and I helped take of her when she was sick. Why I ever stopped my kids from seeing her, why despite the shitty person she was I never totally walked away from her. That part of me just couldn’t let her go.
Fuck I fought myself for years overnt because I didn’t understand it. But I’ve been thinking about her a lot and I saw the picture today and it just hit me.
My mom was a great Fucken lady when she cared about herself and others. But life happens and it turned her into a whiny greedy manipulative bitch.
I loved her everyday even when she sucker as a human because she really was wonderful. I just wish she’d never given up.
Shit happens and people are people and sometimes we change our minds.
Well remember this is Mz.R.E forever teaching you how to not live your life.
Oh and remember children, love your mother. But you don’t have to like her. At all. Ever.
So it can be said that it is probably best to write about certain things. Sometimes letting the situation play out is the best way to be able to go back and tell your story. This way one isn’t clouded by the insanity inducing emotions of the time. And let me tell you, Madame Insanity was a common house guest in my world for the better part of 2013. That year to be clear was a complete and utter nightmare. I should have killed someone, god knows I came close. Buuuut rationality showed up just in time to keep this cutie patootie out of the Pen. As previously mentioned, this year was a bust. Everything went to hell in a hand basket. I was single, unemployed, damn near homeless and chubby as fuck by January 25th. Not to mention I still had to chase after three lovely but terrifying little people and deal with an idiot drunk, whilst maintaining at least the appearance of someone who though may not have her shit together did in fact know what was going on (for the record, I had no Fucken clue. Literally winging it the WHOLE time). But like poodle would continually tell me; things did actually improve over time. Weeeeeell sort of. I got rid of the drunk and the chub and let me tell you, quality of life improved drastically. It has been almost a year since I started this particular post and much of my life has turned around. It has been made very clear that things can not only get better, but all the things I used to think couldn’t or wouldn’t happen for me, can. I have wonderful people around me
The above was written about a year ago, a year or so after what was one of the shittiest years to date for the shambley chaos that I call my existence. And even though that went out on a optimistic note, well haha let me tell you. I most definitely spoke too soon. 2013 was a shitty but great year and 2014 was a great but shit year as well. I was once again mostly unemployed, getting chubby and on the outs with my at that time boyfriend whilst having to chase around 3 lovely but terrifying bigger little people and none of us were in a happy place. And even in the worst moment of that year I was hopefully romantically holding on to the notion that things would get better if we just stuck together when every day I was being left farther and farther behind by the one i loved so very dearly. So it should come as no surprise when I say things DID NOT improve. AT ALL. Even a little. 2015 reared its ugly head with no light at the end of the tunnel.
Its now June of 2015 and yes two years has passed since I started this particular installment on the fun times to be had when you’re me. But I would no longer call it a reflection. More like an acceptance. An acceptance that honestly life is life and sometimes mine will be a clusterfuck. That wasn’t the first time and I am almost positive that it won’t be the last. So stay tuned folks, things will only get bitterly more hilarious and entertaining as I ride that struggle bus.
Forever teaching you how not to live your life
Mz. R. E.