i'm so glad it's easier now... years ago, this would've been such a harder process.
i feel like i've really grown.
Monday, December 30, 2013
i've calmed down.
i think i've let it go. that last entry was a doozy. it's been getting so much easier to get over her antics lately... in the moment, i'm a raging bitch. afterwards, i feel bad. i chastise myself for getting so angry over something that isn't her fault. i can't believe i've let her get to me, again. and then i let it go.
Friday, December 27, 2013
a huge, colossal, FUCK YOU MOM
**please excuse all my expletives. i'm a little fired up tonight.**
well, it was only a matter of time, i suppose. i was at work when my coworker said i had a phone call. surprise, surprise - a police officer from the city where my mother is currently living was on the other line. she asked if i had a moment to talk, and i think i laughed out something about my mother. i put her on hold so i could find a non-public place to actually have the conversation. i think she asked if i knew why she was calling, and sounded genuinely surprised that i already knew what it was about.
there was a moment - a split second - where i started to cry. my assistant caught it and asked if i was ok. i said yes, and said i might need a longer lunch break. ha.
the cop said something like, "so we received a call from your mother, that she hasn't had contact since 2006?" i responded, "you know she's mentally ill, right?" no, she didn't. she had no understanding of what the situation was. you would think that after so many years of annoying the local/state authorities that they'd have some kind of dossier or file on her, but apparently this woman was trying to "do the right thing" by calling. i told her i was 31 years old, and could decide if i wanted contact with my mother or not.
i said a lot of things to her, because she really didn't get it.
i hate, HATE, having to constantly explain this to people. i HATE that i have to constantly "make" people understand why i don't want my mother in my life. i HATE that people who don't know what it's like to live without her JUDGE me for WHY i don't include her in my life.
at the end of the day, i am the one who has to deal with this. alone. i don't need patronizing police officers questioning my motives or reasons.
the officer was kind enough to tell me how she found my work number, after so many years of believing my mother had no idea where i was. seems she had a good enough idea, because the cop did some actual detective work to get to me. i'm a fool for ever thinking that blocking her number on my cell phone and blocking her on Facebook would ever be enough to keep her out.
she sent a letter to me this week saying the police had told her i didn't want contact but was alive and well. i could scream at that officer. why did she have to say ANYTHING????? WHY CAN'T THEY EVER MIND THEIR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS?
my mother's letter had it's own charming moments. would you like a quote? "i can see no reasons for your hard heart in past years other than a reluctance to sea with future burdens like an elderly disabled mom. i did not raise you both to be that way. i regret not instilling the values into your hearts which would lead to perpetual love shared between family members. i will apologize for any wrongs you feel i committed which you never stated or discussed with me. you have both disappointed me deeply. i wish you good luck and future happiness alone. we make our choices. i hope you live well with yours. i just gave birth to you, like a cow, i suppose."
may i take this moment, here and now, to issue a colossal FUCK YOU to my mother. this is the last letter i read from her. officially. OFFICIALLY. i am done being guilt-tripped, harassed, intruded upon, or made to feel like i'm a piece of shit.
i will NOT let her reduce me to rubble again. life is hard enough as it is. pulling myself together over the past ten years was hard enough. i'm not going through this again, no matter what kind of colorful language she uses.
i'm saying again to the void: fuck you, mom. FUCK YOU.
well, it was only a matter of time, i suppose. i was at work when my coworker said i had a phone call. surprise, surprise - a police officer from the city where my mother is currently living was on the other line. she asked if i had a moment to talk, and i think i laughed out something about my mother. i put her on hold so i could find a non-public place to actually have the conversation. i think she asked if i knew why she was calling, and sounded genuinely surprised that i already knew what it was about.
there was a moment - a split second - where i started to cry. my assistant caught it and asked if i was ok. i said yes, and said i might need a longer lunch break. ha.
the cop said something like, "so we received a call from your mother, that she hasn't had contact since 2006?" i responded, "you know she's mentally ill, right?" no, she didn't. she had no understanding of what the situation was. you would think that after so many years of annoying the local/state authorities that they'd have some kind of dossier or file on her, but apparently this woman was trying to "do the right thing" by calling. i told her i was 31 years old, and could decide if i wanted contact with my mother or not.
i said a lot of things to her, because she really didn't get it.
i hate, HATE, having to constantly explain this to people. i HATE that i have to constantly "make" people understand why i don't want my mother in my life. i HATE that people who don't know what it's like to live without her JUDGE me for WHY i don't include her in my life.
at the end of the day, i am the one who has to deal with this. alone. i don't need patronizing police officers questioning my motives or reasons.
the officer was kind enough to tell me how she found my work number, after so many years of believing my mother had no idea where i was. seems she had a good enough idea, because the cop did some actual detective work to get to me. i'm a fool for ever thinking that blocking her number on my cell phone and blocking her on Facebook would ever be enough to keep her out.
she sent a letter to me this week saying the police had told her i didn't want contact but was alive and well. i could scream at that officer. why did she have to say ANYTHING????? WHY CAN'T THEY EVER MIND THEIR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS?
my mother's letter had it's own charming moments. would you like a quote? "i can see no reasons for your hard heart in past years other than a reluctance to sea with future burdens like an elderly disabled mom. i did not raise you both to be that way. i regret not instilling the values into your hearts which would lead to perpetual love shared between family members. i will apologize for any wrongs you feel i committed which you never stated or discussed with me. you have both disappointed me deeply. i wish you good luck and future happiness alone. we make our choices. i hope you live well with yours. i just gave birth to you, like a cow, i suppose."
may i take this moment, here and now, to issue a colossal FUCK YOU to my mother. this is the last letter i read from her. officially. OFFICIALLY. i am done being guilt-tripped, harassed, intruded upon, or made to feel like i'm a piece of shit.
i will NOT let her reduce me to rubble again. life is hard enough as it is. pulling myself together over the past ten years was hard enough. i'm not going through this again, no matter what kind of colorful language she uses.
i'm saying again to the void: fuck you, mom. FUCK YOU.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
when everything finally settles
so what do you do when you finally achieve your goals? it's been an intense month and a half. i have finally been promoted. i have been given the vindication, and the validation i needed. i have done what i set out to do, professionally. i go to work, and go about my day like someone with normalcy.
you'd expect i'd find some kind of peace.
what i've found, instead, is a hole. a vacuum of substance. with the all-consuming angst and uncertainty gone, i've found that all the energy and emotion i spent on my frustration has been turned into an empty vat of nothingness. i am woefully alone in the universe. i exist for my job. and it's a lonely thing to deal with.
without all the noise in my head, i feel almost... bored.
my mother's birthday was the other week. in the vast craziness of learning my new job some more, i completely forgot the date. i didn't realize until i spoke to my aunt and she asked, "so have you heard from her...?"
no, i haven't heard from her. no, i didn't call her for her birthday. no, i didn't spend her birthday screaming at fate for taking her away from me. no, i didn't have the cops at my house at all, or receive yet another crazy letter in the mail.
no, i haven't heard from her. but my conscious has been screaming her name in my head ever since. her voice and face have been invading my thoughts every moment since. for every time i think i've conquered some huge part of this, there's another when i realize that this will never be over. this drama will play out for the rest of my life, whether she's a part of it or not.
you'd expect i'd find some kind of peace.
what i've found, instead, is a hole. a vacuum of substance. with the all-consuming angst and uncertainty gone, i've found that all the energy and emotion i spent on my frustration has been turned into an empty vat of nothingness. i am woefully alone in the universe. i exist for my job. and it's a lonely thing to deal with.
without all the noise in my head, i feel almost... bored.
my mother's birthday was the other week. in the vast craziness of learning my new job some more, i completely forgot the date. i didn't realize until i spoke to my aunt and she asked, "so have you heard from her...?"
no, i haven't heard from her. no, i didn't call her for her birthday. no, i didn't spend her birthday screaming at fate for taking her away from me. no, i didn't have the cops at my house at all, or receive yet another crazy letter in the mail.
no, i haven't heard from her. but my conscious has been screaming her name in my head ever since. her voice and face have been invading my thoughts every moment since. for every time i think i've conquered some huge part of this, there's another when i realize that this will never be over. this drama will play out for the rest of my life, whether she's a part of it or not.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
exactly what i'm feeling right now.
"I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of Chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends… you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new. And you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade."
— The Holiday
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
finding old letters.
i was digging through a drawer tonight and found the following letter from last summer. i had written it when i flew back to ny to see a close friend that had just had a baby. this one is too poignant not to save here:
"letter to: [dated 6/14/12]
i'm not sure where to start so let's start here. there are moments when i don't know what i'm really doing. moments like today. coming to new york yet again, professing love and loyal friendship instead of simply admitting i'd rather be here than somewhere else. my father always seems to know what's really up. one of these days, he won't be right all the time.
it's easier for me to be here. i know where i am. who is around. what to do. it's easier to be amused than terrified. i know i will have to move past this like any other challenge i've had in my life. and i will.
it would be easier, i think, if you were here too.
sometimes i fear we will never meet. that i will continue to live as i've lived for 12 years now. but then i think that it would be a shame if our story never happened, so it has to start at some point.
i'd like to work up the courage to find you. i forget where to start. it used to always be so easy. but that was a different part of my life. i was such a different person. most of the time, i wish i could go back to then. that easy time in my life when i felt so much more comfortable in my own skin.
and wondering why, exactly, i don't now.
there must've been a million little moments that led me to this shell of a girl. rejections. insecurity. worrying about others and what they were thinking. it's hard to believe i let it get to me. the girl i used to be would've told them all to fuck off - the mean people, and the voices in my own head.
i'm lying on the grass in central park. it's peaceful, comfortable... i almost feel the little pieces of my soul flittering around my heart, wanting to land somewhere finally. i so want to be back together with myself. continue this process of growing and healing. it's a slow steady process. and i know i must go through it before i meet you. this baggage is more than enough to deal with on my own - i couldn't put you through this as well.
i wonder... i wonder what you look like. taste like. smell like. i like to wonder if you could put up with my moods. or if you have some of your own for me to learn. i wonder if you're older than me. if you watch cartoons. if you have a mother i could love as my own.
i wonder if i'll ever sing in public again. if i'll ever pick up my violin again. if i'll ever work up the courage to scuba dive. if i'll ever be brave enough to really dye my hair. if i'll get a puppy. if i'll quit my job. if i'll go back to school.
i am scared all the time. i used to worry it was anxiety, then realized i was being anxious. ironic. i don't know why i'm afraid of mistakes, of sitting still, of settling... but i am. i'm afraid of not being perfect. of not being liked. of not moving ahead.
and oh, how i want to move ahead, and move on."
it's strange to think that a letter from last year could sum up exactly how i'm feeling a year later. i guess some things never change.
"letter to: [dated 6/14/12]
i'm not sure where to start so let's start here. there are moments when i don't know what i'm really doing. moments like today. coming to new york yet again, professing love and loyal friendship instead of simply admitting i'd rather be here than somewhere else. my father always seems to know what's really up. one of these days, he won't be right all the time.
it's easier for me to be here. i know where i am. who is around. what to do. it's easier to be amused than terrified. i know i will have to move past this like any other challenge i've had in my life. and i will.
it would be easier, i think, if you were here too.
sometimes i fear we will never meet. that i will continue to live as i've lived for 12 years now. but then i think that it would be a shame if our story never happened, so it has to start at some point.
i'd like to work up the courage to find you. i forget where to start. it used to always be so easy. but that was a different part of my life. i was such a different person. most of the time, i wish i could go back to then. that easy time in my life when i felt so much more comfortable in my own skin.
and wondering why, exactly, i don't now.
there must've been a million little moments that led me to this shell of a girl. rejections. insecurity. worrying about others and what they were thinking. it's hard to believe i let it get to me. the girl i used to be would've told them all to fuck off - the mean people, and the voices in my own head.
i'm lying on the grass in central park. it's peaceful, comfortable... i almost feel the little pieces of my soul flittering around my heart, wanting to land somewhere finally. i so want to be back together with myself. continue this process of growing and healing. it's a slow steady process. and i know i must go through it before i meet you. this baggage is more than enough to deal with on my own - i couldn't put you through this as well.
i wonder... i wonder what you look like. taste like. smell like. i like to wonder if you could put up with my moods. or if you have some of your own for me to learn. i wonder if you're older than me. if you watch cartoons. if you have a mother i could love as my own.
i wonder if i'll ever sing in public again. if i'll ever pick up my violin again. if i'll ever work up the courage to scuba dive. if i'll ever be brave enough to really dye my hair. if i'll get a puppy. if i'll quit my job. if i'll go back to school.
i am scared all the time. i used to worry it was anxiety, then realized i was being anxious. ironic. i don't know why i'm afraid of mistakes, of sitting still, of settling... but i am. i'm afraid of not being perfect. of not being liked. of not moving ahead.
and oh, how i want to move ahead, and move on."
it's strange to think that a letter from last year could sum up exactly how i'm feeling a year later. i guess some things never change.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
forward motion of a sort.
the last few months have been a roller coaster. i wanted to write a post a few times, started, and then gave up half way through.
my mother got my phone number somehow. i've changed my number at least 4 times on her, and this was the longest i'd been able to go without changing it again. it's been at least 5 years. silence, beautiful silence, from her. the letters would show up every once in a while, courtesy of whatever google search she did and my public address records, but those have been easy enough to ignore. just throw them in the "mom" folder in my files and move on. phone calls are different. they're instantaneous. you have to make a quick decision to either answer or ignore. or worse - let it keep on ringing. you know she's alive, right there. right at the other end of the line. you want to pick it up, but there are only two ways this confrontation would go. you'll scream and hang up, or you'll listen and wish you hadn't. it's a fixed hand to make you feel like shit either way.
this all played out in my mind, but i just switched the phone to silent and let my heart speed up a bit. i sat in my car and just breathed in and out for a moment. and then decided to listen to the voicemail she inevitably left.
transcription: "um, this is someone who loves you [angry tone.] it would be nice to hear your voice. call me back. bye."
all and any sympathy i felt was gone. once again, i felt right in my conviction to cut her out of my life. this angry, crazy character is someone that i don't have to interact with. this woman is not the mother i loved so early in life. she is a specter. a shadow. a poisonous apple.
i managed to not cry or scream. i calmly called my uncle and father to see if they had given her my number. after all, i'm unlisted and registered with the "do not call" service for telemarketers and promotional calls. i've got a suspicion that her sister, who i don't talk to, is the one who gave her the number, but i don't feel like confronting her. i don't feel like wasting the energy.
in the past two months, my mother has called my phone exactly twice. i saved the number to my cell as "psycho bitch." it made me feel better. i haven't changed the number yet, but i'm contemplating it. as my brother pointed out, i don't have to listen to the messages. i can delete them. but it's the nagging presence of *her* - visible, audible - that i don't want. maybe it's childish, or unrealistic. i simply don't even want the reminder that she's there, and still so unreachable.
as far as the rest of life is concerned, i'm feeling extraordinarily alone and forgotten in the world. i'm tired of having no one around. i'm tired of only seeing my brother and his family as social outings. i haven't made a solitary friend here, other than coworkers, and it's hurting my soul. not even one person to call and see a movie with. how sad. how pathetic.
i'm tired of bullshit at work. i'm tired of being lonely. i don't know what to do with myself next.
i guess i'll start over somehow. hit the reset button. climb tooth and nail out of a depressive funk until all i see is sun and cloudless sky.
Monday, April 1, 2013
lost.
the boy disappeared. he stopped calling. i still don't know why, and honestly, the lack of closure is making me a little upset. but there are many things that i learned as a result of him, so i'm finding it a little easier than i thought to come to terms with it all. i gave him every opportunity i could think of to be honest with me, but he chickened out. i guess he had his own issues to work out.
it's disappointing. i liked the guy. oh well. i'm grateful for the time we had.
i started running after it ended, which feels amazing. it's something that i've wanted to do forever, but never felt like i had the strength for it. i even went on another date with a different guy, who i had absolutely no attraction for.
and then i freaked out a little this week, and regressed back into my eat-everything-sleep-all-day pattern. so much for the progress.
i don't know. i feel a little lost. and a little alone in the world.
it's disappointing. i liked the guy. oh well. i'm grateful for the time we had.
i started running after it ended, which feels amazing. it's something that i've wanted to do forever, but never felt like i had the strength for it. i even went on another date with a different guy, who i had absolutely no attraction for.
and then i freaked out a little this week, and regressed back into my eat-everything-sleep-all-day pattern. so much for the progress.
i don't know. i feel a little lost. and a little alone in the world.
Monday, February 18, 2013
the boy, and self-parenting.
he brought me lunch today. and a box of chocolate-covered strawberries for valentine's day. sweetest thing done for me in a long, long time.
why do i keep waiting for the other shoe to drop? why do i keep waiting to hear him say it's not working for him? why do i keep expecting the texts to stop coming? why can't i just be happy, and enjoy this? i'm so incredibly good at the self-sabotage.
my therapist pointed out that i'm quick to really berate myself in this kind of situation - that i call myself all kinds of names. i tell myself all kinds of terrible, awful things - that i'm fat. i'm ugly. i'm unloveable. no one could possibly ever want me. that my body is ugly and disgusting.
her plan to combat this is pretty simple - her question was, would i say those things to my 16-year-old cousin if she met a boy like this one? would i say it to my goddaughter when she's a bit older? are these the things i would say to any young woman i know in this situation?
no, no of course not. they're awful things to say, and they're not even remotely true.
i am such a terrible parent to myself. the fact is that yes, i am a mother to myself. i've been a mother to myself for years and years now. and when i open my mouth, only the negative things come out. like my mother screaming that i'm not her child, and i'm terrible, and i used to be a sweet, beautiful child that she doesn't recognize anymore. when i open my mouth, all that comes out is my mother's cruelty.
i have to be a better parent to myself. this is going to take a lot of practice. and patience. and constant redirection. it's going to be exhausting.
but it'll be worth it. i don't want to sabotage myself in this relationship... he's such a nice guy. it'd be a terrible waste to let it falter because of my own insecurities and baggage.
why do i keep waiting for the other shoe to drop? why do i keep waiting to hear him say it's not working for him? why do i keep expecting the texts to stop coming? why can't i just be happy, and enjoy this? i'm so incredibly good at the self-sabotage.
my therapist pointed out that i'm quick to really berate myself in this kind of situation - that i call myself all kinds of names. i tell myself all kinds of terrible, awful things - that i'm fat. i'm ugly. i'm unloveable. no one could possibly ever want me. that my body is ugly and disgusting.
her plan to combat this is pretty simple - her question was, would i say those things to my 16-year-old cousin if she met a boy like this one? would i say it to my goddaughter when she's a bit older? are these the things i would say to any young woman i know in this situation?
no, no of course not. they're awful things to say, and they're not even remotely true.
i am such a terrible parent to myself. the fact is that yes, i am a mother to myself. i've been a mother to myself for years and years now. and when i open my mouth, only the negative things come out. like my mother screaming that i'm not her child, and i'm terrible, and i used to be a sweet, beautiful child that she doesn't recognize anymore. when i open my mouth, all that comes out is my mother's cruelty.
i have to be a better parent to myself. this is going to take a lot of practice. and patience. and constant redirection. it's going to be exhausting.
but it'll be worth it. i don't want to sabotage myself in this relationship... he's such a nice guy. it'd be a terrible waste to let it falter because of my own insecurities and baggage.
Monday, February 11, 2013
love, and more love.
so much has happened in the last few weeks. it's been such an amazing time in my life... so much happiness that it feels like someone else's.
my niece was born last week. this beautiful, perfect little baby came into the world and i fell in love in such a new way. holding her makes me feel like a new person. like i can do anything. have anything. be anything. there is a new sense of responsibility for me. after she was born, her parents gave me the key to their house to take a nap and go back to the hospital later in the day for dinner... and i couldn't keep myself from going into her nursery, falling on the floor, and praying. pouring my heart out to the g-d i love, and thanking him for her safe delivery, and asking him to bless her life and keep her from harm. keep her from the hurt of my mother. i haven't felt close to g-d in a long time, but she brought it out in me. i promised i would protect her. that i would always be there for her. that i would die for her.
holding that baby in my arms makes me feel like my life no longer belongs to me. that my life is small and important at the same time. and that all i really want to do with this life, in this world, is have a child of my own someday.
which brings me to the boy. i don't know what to call him, because we haven't really talked about what our relationship actually is. but he's amazing, and sexy, and seems to like me for no reason that i can see. i've had someone say goodnight every day for weeks. i've had someone actually like the size of my ass. it's weird, and new, and strange, and makes me feel insecure in a whole new way. i'm trying to stay brave and just enjoy this for now... i'm trying to keep my awful demons inside and not let them ruin this for me. but i know it's only a matter of time before they get the best of me, and i become a raging, jealous, needy little girl. i'm hoping i can keep it at bay. i'm hoping he isn't going to turn and run if he sees the real me... because i'm kinda crazy about him. and i've been waiting too long for someone like him.
it's going to be a long session with the therapist this week.
my niece was born last week. this beautiful, perfect little baby came into the world and i fell in love in such a new way. holding her makes me feel like a new person. like i can do anything. have anything. be anything. there is a new sense of responsibility for me. after she was born, her parents gave me the key to their house to take a nap and go back to the hospital later in the day for dinner... and i couldn't keep myself from going into her nursery, falling on the floor, and praying. pouring my heart out to the g-d i love, and thanking him for her safe delivery, and asking him to bless her life and keep her from harm. keep her from the hurt of my mother. i haven't felt close to g-d in a long time, but she brought it out in me. i promised i would protect her. that i would always be there for her. that i would die for her.
holding that baby in my arms makes me feel like my life no longer belongs to me. that my life is small and important at the same time. and that all i really want to do with this life, in this world, is have a child of my own someday.
which brings me to the boy. i don't know what to call him, because we haven't really talked about what our relationship actually is. but he's amazing, and sexy, and seems to like me for no reason that i can see. i've had someone say goodnight every day for weeks. i've had someone actually like the size of my ass. it's weird, and new, and strange, and makes me feel insecure in a whole new way. i'm trying to stay brave and just enjoy this for now... i'm trying to keep my awful demons inside and not let them ruin this for me. but i know it's only a matter of time before they get the best of me, and i become a raging, jealous, needy little girl. i'm hoping i can keep it at bay. i'm hoping he isn't going to turn and run if he sees the real me... because i'm kinda crazy about him. and i've been waiting too long for someone like him.
it's going to be a long session with the therapist this week.
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