"Where a mother ends and a daughter begins" Part 2

This is the part where I feel like more of an asshole than I usually do.

Today is my mother's birthday. She's 68. I haven't called her yet, and I'm not even 100% sure if I'm going to. I haven't been home in weeks and we haven't talked at all during that time. I've tried calling here and there and left a few voicemails, but she hasn't called me back. Ordinarily, with her declining health and inability to take care of herself, I would be worried leaving her for a weekend, let alone for several weeks. I can't explain my lack of caring right now, though. It's actually frightening to me. My whole life, the one thing that has caused me more stress and concern than anything else ever, has been my parents. If it wasn't financial on my father's behalf, it was abuse on my mother's behalf. If it wasn't one or the other disappearing, it was both of their abusive alcoholic tendencies. I've felt like a goddamn referee in a game of adult retardation since  I was old enough to understand what fighting is (and when you're an awkward, only child, you pick up on that stuff a couple years sooner than most, I feel). I guess this is what the breaking point is.

I always imagined the day would come where I've had enough, but I didn't think it would come along with this feeling I have of simply not giving a shit anymore. I almost like the fact that we haven't talked because I know that when we do, the guilt trips will come again. I know her so well that I can hear them all already. I know the twisted, backwards way her brain works and I can predict all the blows. After being hurt by them for so long, you almost have to learn what to expect so you can prepare and protect yourself from letting it sink into your brain and effect you. That probably sounds stupid (and maybe I'm just too sensitive) but it's been working for me. Anyways, bottom line is that I'm scared of the fight that's going to come along with communicating with her, and frankly, I don't deserve it or need it.

My father got a hold of me yesterday (very strange because we never talk living under the same roof, let alone on the phone). I couldn't make sense out of what he was trying to tell me, but I gathered it was about money for some kind of bill. He said my mother told him that I "refuse to talk to her" (Jesus fucking Christ) and that I should call up the electric company and pay them because the electric got turned off. I haven't been home in almost three weeks and shit is obviously already hitting the ceiling. Funny, he can't call me in 20 years to say "happy birthday", "merry Christmas" or even (and it would fit so much more realistically with our family dynamic) "go fuck yourself", but both of them are so good at picking up a phone when they need money. It's like I'm perpetually raising toddlers with a teenager's financial needs. There I go getting off track and taking and detour to bitch-fest again..

I guess what I took from the conversation is that at least I know she's alive and okay. The rest just left me cold.

I know I need to find a place to live now because I can't keep on haunting my friend's couch forever. It has been nice to feel what it's like to be part of a family for the past few weeks, though. Granted, I never had an interest in having a family of my own (more on that in a future entry) but it's sweet to get a taste of what it's all about. I like waking up to noise and interacting with kids*. I like it when the youngest one draws me pictures of neon dinosaurs and hides them in my luggage. I remember doing things like that for my mom. I like that the hug you randomly sometimes and say "I love you" without a real reason. Funny, how much that changes the older we get. I've never really spent much time around kids in my adult life and I had almost forgotten how pure and fun the world is through their eyes. It's been refreshing to me. Maybe I just needed some positive energy and simplicity, or maybe it's all just coming along with this odd numbness I've been feeling, but I really am grateful for my time here. I'm grateful for friends who let you into their lives without hesitation. And I'll never forget how lucky I am to have such good people in my life.

I've gone so far off track yet again, I really need to get better at organizing my thoughts rather than just bloviating. Please pardon my lack of form, but I think the more I write, the better it will flow eventually. I've kept so much inside of me without writing for so long that it feels more like word vomit right now than anything even resembling structure.

One day, bitches...

Someday.




 *As much as I say I "hate children", I mostly mean I hate the idea of having my own. Oh, and I hate shitty, misbehaving ones. And babies. Seriously, if it's under the age of four, I'd prefer to keep it away from me. All they do at that age is cry and the fact that they're crying for any number of things that they still can't quite articulate is both terrifying and infuriating to me. It's like dealing with a woman on her period. "Oh, come on then now. Is it your feelings that are getting you down or is the chocolate bad?" I don't like guessing games when it comes to tears. The fact that a baby could be hungry, thirsty, bored, soiled themselves OR just crying for the sheer fun of it all? No thank you. You are all of my worst nightmares rolled into a tiny human being.