a small setback.

i had a hard week.

it was set off by a familiar pattern of falling hard for someone, although this time i think it was actually mutual for a minute. he chickened out on me. i took it hard. i'm still taking it hard. for the first time in a while, i was smiling again about someone. and even now, i'm still not convinced that he doesn't want something more from me. but i won't push. i want someone who is as crazy about me as much as i am about him, and who thinks finding someone amazing is worth crossing a canyon full of reasons why we shouldn't try. this ones going to hurt for a while.

after that whole mess happened, work became really hard. some projects are going on, and i was doing a lot of work at home. i'm feeling stressed, and alone in the responsibility.

i also have to move in 3 weeks. which i don't want to do.

and then, out of nowhere, i had a super-intense conversation with a coworker about my mother.

i had already been thinking about her a lot this week. it feels like any time i have a moment where i feel hurt or stressed, it's even harder for me to push away the thoughts of her. i hate that i don't have a mother to call and cry to. i hate that there is no reassuring motherly voice on the end of the phone telling me it's all going to be ok. my aunt and my father try so hard to fill that void, but there are times when it just isn't enough. and the feeling this week was just... overwhelming. soul-crushing. hysteria-inducing.

i was having a full-out moment where i just needed to cry, and reached out the only way i had at my disposal -- a photo of my mother on instagram with a caption that read, "if i just name this feeling, maybe it'll calm down and go away. missing my mom today." i let it out while i was at work, and somehow stemmed the tide of tears that were threatening me every second.

i should've known what would happen afterwards. my entire family freaked out on me. i had phone calls of "are you ok?" "what happened??" and i instantly regretted the entire thing. but the more i thought about it, the angrier i got at my family. why shouldn't i be able to express myself about my mother? why should i have to edit my feelings every single waking minute? sure, Facebook is probably not the best place to express it, but at least it's an outlet. that has to be better than letting it fester and not talking to anyone about it.

in hindsight, i shouldn't have done it -- i knew what my family would think and worry about. but i think deep down i needed to send up the flare. i needed to send out a giant message that said, "sometimes i'm still not ok." because pretending that i am, all the time, is utterly exhausting, and really just a giant lie.

i'm not always ok. i'm not always sure that never speaking to my mother again is the right decision. i'm not sympathetic to my family's worrying about me. sometimes i just want to scream, and rage, and tell the world just how much it sucks to be motherless, and not care about the consequences. is that wrong? is it really the expectation that i need to edit every thought i have in real life?

this blog is so important to me. you have no idea. if i didn't have this space in which to be honest,  i don't know how i would function.

i should shut my mouth.

every once in a while, i start to find myself telling people in my everyday life about my mother. they ask a simple question, or they are going through a terrible situation, and i just let it out. the entire story.

i was delivering a review to one of my employees, and we were talking about anger control. and i told him about the phone call from the police officer the other week, and how i wanted to actually react, but couldn't because i was at work. and then he was apologizing i went through that, and sorry i didn't have my mom, etc. etc.

i immediately regretted telling him and yelled at myself to shut my damn mouth.

it's hard for people to relate to my story, and telling them always seems to put them in awkward positions. i don't want them to feel compelled to say something that i don't necessarily need or want to hear.

crazy dreams.

i woke myself from a terror-inducing nightmare where the highlight was my mother arriving here, and chasing me up and down a street full of shops, and me trying to desperately hide but never feeling safe. i was trying to beat her to my store to warn them that she was coming.

if that isn't a mindfuck to start my day, i don't know what is.

side note.

i'm falling for someone, and i can't do anything about it. it's such a shame.

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.

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.

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.

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.