never assume things.

after a week of hyperventilating and crying, i finally talked to my aunt and uncle. i feel like an idiot for overreacting the way i did.

the reason they are not coming is not that they can't deal with my mother. rather, my mother made some incredibly upsetting comments about their children in a letter they received. the letter turned into a renewal of their restraining order. the court sent someone to their house to interview their children and determine any level of abuse. and they are afraid of involving their kids in a possibly upsetting situation with my mother. they also don't want to tempt fate by potentially causing a scene during the wedding.

and i understand. at every level. i had to go through child service interviews because of my mother. i'm mortified that my cousins had to go through the same... how can i ever apologize for her behavior? for the necessity of that invasion into their lives by the court system? i feel like... a heel. a burden. an annoyance.

but now, for the first time, i am starting to lose my hope that my mother is ever going to be hospitalized. every day that goes by makes me feel like she is lost for ever. that she will never be medicated. that she will never be in my life as a mother ought to be. (but didn't i really know that deep down all along?)

having a mentally ill parent is endless grieving. grieving for yourself, and grieving for the incomplete loss of a parent.

and now i have to worry about my brother, and the potential disasters that could happen at this wedding. he will spend his entire wedding worrying about his mother. she could just sit and not cause any problems. but it's not likely. she could start a situation with me - yell at me, curse me out, etc. she could start a situation with someone else. the police could come. my future sister-in-law could be made to feel upset, or uncomfortable. there are so many possible negatives, and the only positive is that my brother would have his "mom" there.

everything is so complicated. and all i want is to find a really wonderful therapist to talk all of this out with in person. cry with. someone to answer my thoughts back with some insight. because while i have come to rely on this blog to air out my thoughts, and it brings me some peace, it is not helping me deal with the situation or the emotional scars that run so deeply.

i am emotionally raw, and my seams are showing.

wedding drama.

my brother is closer to my mother than i will ever be. some people have "his" and "her" towels, but we got "his" and "her" parents. frankly i think i did better in the deal, but i can't blame him for his feelings for his mother. it's a natural thing for him. i find it difficult to even say that i love my mother... most of the time i don't feel anything towards her at all.

but i digress.

my brother is getting married in july. he wants his mother at the wedding. no one else does, including his bride, but she is such a wonderful woman that she is putting up with it anyway. because it's what my brother wants. he wants his mother at his wedding. it's a normal desire.

the problem is that the rest of her family wants nothing to do with her. her sister has a restraining order against her. her brother has a restraining order against her. but when they got engaged, my brother and his fiance talked to everyone to assure them it would be a good time.

i got a text tonight from my brother that the uncle has now pulled his family out of the wedding. they are not going to be there. i'm trying to process this thought, but it can't seem to quite sink in just yet.

if her own daughter, if i can deal with her being at this wedding, why is it so difficult for every one else? how could her brother's hurt be any more than her own daughter? if i can put aside my anger, and resentment, and ANGER, to be at my brother's wedding with her presence, why can't any one else? the wedding isn't about my mother. it isn't about my uncle. it's about my brother, his bride, and the life they are creating. for whatever misguided reason, my brother wants his mother in his life. and no one else's opinion really matters. that's his comfort level, his wants, and his needs.

i am so angry with my uncle, whom i have always loved and adored, that i'm finding it difficult to breathe, let alone sleep. all i want to do is yell and scream at them. how am i supposed to react? i am incredibly close to my uncle and his wife. they have been my lifeline at times when i felt alone with the weight of my mother's illness.

but now, i don't even want to talk to them. let alone see them. i am so outraged at the selfishness, the cruelty, and the meanness...

i don't know what else to do other than keep my mouth shut. but my uncle must realize that the bond i share with my brother is sacred? if not because of the fact that we are siblings, then certainly because we have shared the burden of our mother for 25 years together. we have held each other when we were upset. we have carried each other. we have been each other's strength. and i don't care how righteous my uncle thinks he is being -- my brother will always, ALWAYS, come first in my heart.

oy.

my mother's mother

i was cleaning out my hard drive, and found a whole treasure trove of photos that my mom must have sent me at some point when she was still on meds. and i found one of her mother that made me cry. i look like my grandmother. i never realized this before.

i wish she were still here to get her daughter into a hospital like she did in the '60s. i wish she were here to make it better.

turkey

i'm in the new apartment. it feels empty, but it's full of stuff. boxes of stuff. and every box seems to contain an old piece of my soul. some memento that meant something at some point. but now? my life feels empty. i work, work, work. and then work some more. and let the laundry pile up, the dishes fill the sink, the cat litter stay. and then work again to keep myself from thinking. thinking about her. about myself. about all the things i want in my life but seem so far out of reach.

my self worth is amazing. i know that i am a strong woman. a beautiful strong woman. i know that i am smart, and determined, and loved by a band of family and friends. but there's a little voice in my head that drowns that knowledge out. and lately it's been screaming. "you're fat. you're ugly. you'll never meet a man. you'll never have kids. your brother will have everything you've ever wanted for yourself, so just keep pushing your career. who cares about a balance of life? sure, you want to go to the gym, but you'll look so fat in those tight pants. just watch more tv and eat some sugary crap."

and i let it win, 95% of the time. i made a turkey tonight, just for myself. told myself that i could clean the house while it was cooking, and unpack some more. but i just sat and watched movies. and taped more movies with DVR. didn't do a damn thing. and tomorrow, i'm back to work in dirty jeans and the same shroud of self-hate.

i want to be out of this cycle, but i'm drowning in it.

that turkey made me think of my mother's mother. she would have been proud, if she were alive. it was beautiful, and delicious.

family gatherings

every few months or so, my mother's family plans a get together. they don't do it out of pure love. to go into the dynamics of my mother's family could take a book in and of itself. so let's simplify.

mom's sister: almost as nutty as my mother. the hippy little sister who followed my mother into the LSD and ashrams of the 1970s with the adoration of a younger sibling who felt an affinity with my mother's odd choices. you could blame the times, if you want. partially i blame their hot-headed father and cigarette-totin'-sunday-dinner-throwin' mother. my mom and her sister wore saris to their brother's bar mitzvah, if that helps put this picture together for you. whereas my mother married her high school friend that understood her, her sister married an attractive greek boy, and promptly moved into suburban never-never-land to get the nice house in the respectable neighborhood. her kids are almost the same age as me and my brother. they were raised selfish, materialistic, uncommitted to school, and mostly interested in their clothes, friends, and popularity. the last time we got along was when we were 5. needless to say, they are practically strangers to me. my aunt is now a yogi, living with another yogi, and preaches well being and happiness, but just comes across as a ditzy new ager who has very little anchor in reality. she, too, is incredibly selfish. there's really no other way to label it.

mom's brother: the little brother left behind his two big sisters. always cleaning up the mess. the sibling who actually did something with himself. he's described it to me as being the "outsider." unlike my mom and her sister, he actually finished college and went into a definite field. he married an angel, and created the perfect little family. they do all the right things. say the right things. have the right friends and family friends and vacations and make everything ok. they have taken care of me when i have nothing to give but depression and i love them so very very much. every time my mother has gone off the deep end, my uncle has been there with an understanding and compassion that makes me feel unworthy of it.

mom's brother's wife's family: a hoot. i love these people. i wish they were my own family sometimes.

so, back to the story. mom's brother, who seems to feel that he and his wife must "hold" the family together now that grandpa is gone, has these get togethers twice a year. and this weekend was the latest. so it was me, my uncle and his family, his wife's family, my mom's sister, her yogi-spiritual-in-name-husband and her two kids. out of the entire room, i really just wanted to spend time with my uncle and his little family. they're the only ones i feel close to anymore. we've been on vacations together. i adore my little cousins, who are now in high school and starting to enjoy all those fun times with friends and crushes and first drinks...

but there was my mother's sister. reminding me so much of my mother it almost hurt. same mannerisms, same awkward comments. same face. and all i could think was, "what a waste." my mother's illness is such a waste. i always feel like my mother's daughter. like that is the label i will always have when i'm near people who know her. i know that my uncle doesn't think of me like that, but it's what it feels like.

most of the night was spent in idle chit chat. and then my aunt, with the lack of censorship she has always been blessed with, came out with "why don't you go on jenny craig like me? try to lose some weight? what do your doctors say?"

i wanted to punch her in the face, stand up, and leave.

yes, i'm fat. yes, i stress eat. yes, i eat my feelings away when i feel so depressed that i don't leave my house for two days. but don't fucking make me feel like shit, when every other thought i have on a regular basis is, "i hate myself. i hate myself. i hate myself." i don't need it. i don't fucking need it, especially when you are sitting right there, looking and sounding like my mother in a setting where she should have been. don't fucking say that.

i have no idea what happened the rest of the night. my uncle asked me if i was ok as i left, and i started to cry, and mumbled something about a "waste". somehow i made it home.

but i chain smoked the whole way. and i really don't feel like seeing my aunt for another 6 months.

nami walk

i'm also thinking of doing the nami-nyc walk in her honor. something to DO other than sit and wait for her. at least i could raise funds for others, right?

on the move again.

one step further away from my mother. i'm moving for the eighth time in five years. it's the job, but i can't pretend it isn't me too. destined to be a nomad, i suppose. the last person to put down roots in my family was my aunt in the 1970's. the rest of us still rent. i realized with a slight sort of glee that my mother no longer has my phone number for work. she can't call me and harass me at my job anymore. but i know at some point that someone else will tell her where i've transferred, and the explanations to coworkers will have to begin again. i dread it. but i also want it, if only to know she's alive.