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.

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.

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.

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.

the eery calm.

there has been a lack of writing lately. i find it a bit ironic that i've written so little over the two months, but received so many more comments than i'm used to receiving. there are so many of us out there in the world - all of us searching for answers, for others, for anyone on the other side of the world who understands what it's like to be the child of a mentally ill mother. i grieve for all of us. i mourn our childhoods. i celebrate our strength, and i hope for our healing.

in my life, there have been periods of time that can be clearly defined by emotions. rage. anger. depression. joy. the last few months belong to: calm. eery calm.

i'm not used to it. i don't even trust it. but the fact of the matter is that i have approached my daily life lately like someone... normal. i go to my job, and leave at the end of the day. i see my brother and his wife. i talk with friends and family on the phone. i spend days off running errands, going on hikes, getting my hair done...

it feels positively foreign.

am i finally living well? living a healthy life? is this what it feels like to not have the weight of the world on one's shoulders? is this what it feels like to go about my day, and not spend a moment of it feeling guilty about my mother, or worrying about what she's up to now?

it feels foreign. completely foreign.

i want to trust this. i want to trust that this calm will continue. but the story of my life has taught me that periods like this end, and usually abruptly. i guess i'll just continue to hope.

it's a girl!

i'm going to be an aunt. i've known for a while, but we found out it's a girl today. and suddenly, it seems so wonderfully real. i guess it really didn't sink in until today. i've spent the night thinking about my family - about my grandparents who've passed on, who will never know this child, and my mother, somewhere out in the void unaware of all the life that is going on without her.

i don't think i'll ever understand how she could give this up. this chance to watch my brother become a father, watch her granddaughter grow up... but we had warned her. we had warned her that not taking medication and getting herself together would leave us no choice. it's just so tragically... sad.

i'm thinking of my family, separated by distance. by time. by illness. by death. it's a gently woven tapestry of family ties and history that has frayed edges and holes in places that shouldn't be there. but even with the imperfections, it's this beautiful, warm, incandescent wonder.

i don't know how to express how happy i am without weeping. my brother and i are so lucky. we survived the worst of it. in our own ways, we are telling the story of our lives not in tragedy and tears, but strength and resilience. creating our own joys.

i can't help but cry for my mother. for the loss of her which never ends. there is joy in all this wonderfulness, but there is so much grief too. there's a hole in my heart, and in my brother's, that will make itself more apparent as the birth of this child approaches. i'm hoping that the joy will be enough to fill it for now. for now.

august rush.

somehow, this month has flown by. every week has been a steady routine of work, going to therapy, going to weight watchers meetings, sleeping... a steady routine designed to keep me busy and distracted from the fact that i still haven't made any real friends here. distracted from the fact that my career is at a standstill as a result of moving, and all the progress and status i had built in my last region means nothing in my new one. my job leaves me frustrated and pissed off. my personal life leaves me lonely. and i have caught myself more than once wondering if moving here was really worth it. to sacrifice my friends. my career path. my family.

on the other hand:

since moving, i've paid off a credit card. lost 14 pounds. spend my weekends volunteering at the aquarium. see my brother and his wife a few times a month. come to better understanding of what my company is really looking for nowadays. found a therapist that is helping me to divorce myself from my job and come to terms with the fact that i've been alone for so long because on a fundamental level, i needed the distance from the world.

like anything else, moving here was a gamble. i have to wait for the long-term payout, because the short term is almost unbearable. in the meantime, this month rushed by. the next few will be even faster with the holidays approaching. eventually, i'll meet some people, right? right.

haven't heard a peep from my mother. i almost forget to think about her... is that weird? out of nowhere, i'll catch myself thinking about her for the first time in days, and i think it means i'm truly healing. truly.