Lonely Mother's Day

My last post was fairly intense, to be fair I was pissed beyond rationale. Afterwards came the sadness, questioning my existence, ect. It was rough all the way around. I learned some very hard truths about my mother, her past, and how full of shit she really is.

However, this event—these things I’ve uncovered—have done something very positive for me. The last tether that has kept me clinging to Dani has been cut. Destroyed, blown to hell. I no longer have guilt when I think about her, and coming up on Mother’s Day that’s a big deal. This time of year I would generally be having a difficult time, fighting my shame and guilt over telling my mom to get lost. No matter what she put me through—what she’s done to me—I couldn’t shake the feeling of being an awful daughter. I still held onto the hope that maybe she wasn’t as bad as I remembered. Yeah, she was awful to me, but maybe not THAT awful. It’s an old thought pattern of mine, one Dani put into my head.

The thing that kept me bound to my mom—that held me trapped by her—was knowing she was a different person when I was a child. That for a few years things were good, or at least I thought there were. I can’t remember back that far, and I took Dani at her word. Then I started asking questions and found out she’s always been a piece of shit. It freed me, because I know there is no hope for her. No loving mother at any point in my life. She’s always been out for herself, and I can accept it. The evidence too clear to ignore.

This Mother’s Day there is no guilt or shame knowing I cut my mom from my life. The woman deserves a lot more than a simple “see ya”, but I am sad. In fact I’m hurting. My heart and soul aches to the point I’m not sure if I’m still alive. I’m not grieving over losing Dani, (fuck her) I’m grieving because I never had a real mother. I’ve never known that relationship, the care, or love. My father wasn’t around when I was growing up, and we have only now started to mend our relationship (this is all due to Dani pitting us against each other). But growing up I held onto the notation I had my mom—I had one parent—and to realize, at this stage, it was all an awful lie. That my family wasn’t different, there were completely messed the hell up, it strikes deep. I feel more lonely than ever this year. It’s as if I came from nothing, and I know there are people out there who will spin this as a positive.

Saying things like, “Look what you did without her,” “You raised yourself, be proud.” ect. But I never asked for that. The only thing I’ve ever wanted—since I was 4—I dreamed about a family, a loving mom I could talk and depend on. A fun father to guide me through life, and I had—I have none of that.

This Mother’s Day I’m grieving for all the things I never got to have. The standard that most people are born with, and it has pushed me to start writing a book about my mother, me, and all the awfulness in-between. It’s an extremely difficult process, I’m about half way through the outline, and for those interested it’s going to be named after this blog. Scar’s From Mom, is too fitting not to use. I’ll make sure to post updates and parts of my process as they come along. This book is going to be a fast write, but a horribly challenging one. I look forward to it.

For those of you with wonderful mothers, give them a hug for me, and for those like me. We’ll get through this together, honor yourself. Because you survived, but cry if you have to. There is no shame in it.

#AbusiveMom #Depression #PTSD #MothersDay #Grief

~Jax~