To Put It Nicely...I have issues with my mom.
I long ago gave up any semblance of getting what I wanted from her, which was unconditional love and approval.
But yes, I still have issues with her.
I cannot change her. I can’t. I don’t want to.
But I can work on myself. Work on this anger that still resides inside me after all these years. I can work on the deep-seated sadness still resonating inside me wondering why she could not or chose not to see what was happening to me right in front of her...I find it hard to believe that she didn't see the signs...idk...there are so many things that were put upon me that a young child should not be worried with.
I would like to say I’m not sad. I’m not angry. But that would be a lie.
And I cannot say it.
I am beyond angry at my mother. I am beyond sad at my mother. I am filled with anger that this woman has sucked up so much of me that even today, when I know I am worthy of love, and am obviously giving love back to people, that I feel worthless and inconsequential.
And I am sad.
I am sad because I thought I was past this.
I thought I was past the points and pokes and verbal jabs and emotional jabs.
This is my mother.
She birthed me.
I just feel so tormented inside. I don’t do well with this sort of emotion. It scares me. I am scared by it.
In reality, I am still a scared child myself, wanting unconditional love and acceptance from my mom, and I already know/knew the answer then.
There is no neat and tidy ending to this post.
There is no happy ending here. Not for the story of me and my mother.