30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 8
Day 8: Share something you struggle with
Well, there's so much that I could talk about here. We all have our daemons, some more than others. I mean there's my Hashimotos, my weight, anxiety, depression, I could go on. But for this I will talk about my relationship with my mother.
My mother and I do not have a a relationship at this point. This was a conscious choice that I made for myself, and my well being and mental health.
Let's go back, my fist memory of my mother is of her saying "shhh" in the parking lot of the lilac mall and doing lines off of a tiny mirror before we went in. I would get put in the corner as if I was in trouble so she could get high with her friends. This was all before I was five.
I always wanted to be a performer, I was a little ham and wanted to sing and dance and act. I didn't get any support for any of my dreams. Ironically, except for writing. As I got older and puberty set in I got chubby, like a lot of kids do. And instead of trying to teach me healthy eating habits and ways to get more movement into my day She called me fat. And told me I should diet. I have written before about the time she told me it was good that I was so hungry my stomach hurt, so that I might lose a few pounds.
I lived with my mother from the ages of 4 to 16, prior to that I lived with my wonderful Grandparents. the final straw in my living with my mother was the night that she threw a ceramic bowl across the house at my head and it shattered against the wall. It was a heavy bowl and I am grateful that she missed. The next day i came home and packed all of my clothes into grocery bags and never looked back.
This put a strain on my relationship with my Grandparents too, she blamed them for my leaving. Nothing has ever been her fault. If things went missing, I did it. If her relationships didn't work out, it was because of me.
This wasn't the end of my relationship with my mother, but at this point we didn't speak for about a year.
I broke down first. What girl doesn't want to have a relationship with their mother? Well, this girl did. But the mental abuse and anguish didn't end. It was like having a bad boyfriend that you keep going back to. This same pattern repeated over and over again, well into adult hood.
Last year there was an incident, that I choose not to go into that made me cut my ties with her for good. I still struggle with this choice. Part of me is still that little girl who just wants her mother to love her and be proud of her. The holidays this year were rough. My mother wanted to come, but didn't want to make me uncomfortable. I mean, we share family, I'm not going to be mean to her, I'm just not going to go out of my way to maintain a relationship with her. i am not so delusional that i think I wont ever see her again at holidays and events. Anyway, since there were decades where she didn't speak to my grandparents I chose to skip Christmas so they could see her. I did that for them.
This time around I really do think she gets it though. She hasn't called or emailed or texted. She hasn't sent me a gift for the holidays or my birthday. Part of me is grateful for that, and part of me is sad that I don't seem to warrant any effort.
Do I wish things were different? Of course I do, but I recognize that this relationship was toxic and I really needed to end that. I have been making better choices for myself lately and that was a big one. But there are days where this is way hard. Like right now, typing this, I am crying. Sad but true, it's heart breaking to me that I cant have a relationship with my mom. But it's not good for either of us. there is so much more to this story, but its all so emotionally exhausting, I cant say more if I want to get this posted anytime soon.
Well, there's so much that I could talk about here. We all have our daemons, some more than others. I mean there's my Hashimotos, my weight, anxiety, depression, I could go on. But for this I will talk about my relationship with my mother.
My mother and I do not have a a relationship at this point. This was a conscious choice that I made for myself, and my well being and mental health.
Let's go back, my fist memory of my mother is of her saying "shhh" in the parking lot of the lilac mall and doing lines off of a tiny mirror before we went in. I would get put in the corner as if I was in trouble so she could get high with her friends. This was all before I was five.
I always wanted to be a performer, I was a little ham and wanted to sing and dance and act. I didn't get any support for any of my dreams. Ironically, except for writing. As I got older and puberty set in I got chubby, like a lot of kids do. And instead of trying to teach me healthy eating habits and ways to get more movement into my day She called me fat. And told me I should diet. I have written before about the time she told me it was good that I was so hungry my stomach hurt, so that I might lose a few pounds.
I lived with my mother from the ages of 4 to 16, prior to that I lived with my wonderful Grandparents. the final straw in my living with my mother was the night that she threw a ceramic bowl across the house at my head and it shattered against the wall. It was a heavy bowl and I am grateful that she missed. The next day i came home and packed all of my clothes into grocery bags and never looked back.
This put a strain on my relationship with my Grandparents too, she blamed them for my leaving. Nothing has ever been her fault. If things went missing, I did it. If her relationships didn't work out, it was because of me.
This wasn't the end of my relationship with my mother, but at this point we didn't speak for about a year.
I broke down first. What girl doesn't want to have a relationship with their mother? Well, this girl did. But the mental abuse and anguish didn't end. It was like having a bad boyfriend that you keep going back to. This same pattern repeated over and over again, well into adult hood.
Last year there was an incident, that I choose not to go into that made me cut my ties with her for good. I still struggle with this choice. Part of me is still that little girl who just wants her mother to love her and be proud of her. The holidays this year were rough. My mother wanted to come, but didn't want to make me uncomfortable. I mean, we share family, I'm not going to be mean to her, I'm just not going to go out of my way to maintain a relationship with her. i am not so delusional that i think I wont ever see her again at holidays and events. Anyway, since there were decades where she didn't speak to my grandparents I chose to skip Christmas so they could see her. I did that for them.
This time around I really do think she gets it though. She hasn't called or emailed or texted. She hasn't sent me a gift for the holidays or my birthday. Part of me is grateful for that, and part of me is sad that I don't seem to warrant any effort.
Do I wish things were different? Of course I do, but I recognize that this relationship was toxic and I really needed to end that. I have been making better choices for myself lately and that was a big one. But there are days where this is way hard. Like right now, typing this, I am crying. Sad but true, it's heart breaking to me that I cant have a relationship with my mom. But it's not good for either of us. there is so much more to this story, but its all so emotionally exhausting, I cant say more if I want to get this posted anytime soon.
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