I suck at life. Have I started a blog with this line before? Probably. Today more than any day I am really internalizing this statement. It's fucked up how much I blame my mother for my misery. Her absence has sent me spiraling into this emotional free-fall with no ability to brace myself for impact. She was supposed to be home today. Instead she decided to stay in Miami for an undisclosed amount of time. She ran away from her problems. Simple and plain. It just so happened the worst natural disaster in the history of her native country happened in the interim. I wonder how much she has learned in her 53 years, and I pray I don't repeat many of her poor choices. Our lives are bound together through finance, emotion, and obligation. We have a bizarre dynamic where many times I play the parental role then regress emotionally to match her immaturity. It's exhausting. Sometimes she's a wonderful mom, that mom my friends used to envy when I was growing up because she was so fun and relaxed. I know I missed out on many life lessons from her, things like discipline and self-control. She has some enabling qualities, and many issues with money management. She's a very unique, free spirit, can be so loving, dynamic and charming, but she has these glaring emotional disabilities, and in this way we're just alike. Oh God. I'm so much like her. I have to assert myself when she comes home, take the reigns of my life, and cut the fucking cord. I'm 3 years from 30 and my life is floundering in mediocrity. I see so many opportunities, paths, choices I can make. I need her to help me get there. I need her to be there for me just long enough for me to get out of here. I need her to grow up, if only for a little while.
4 comments:
(hug) I know the feeling. I worry every day that I'm becoming my mother. Regardless, she also had many good qualities. And years of wisdom.
The difference is my mother is gone and nothing I do can bring her back.
There are so many things I wish I had asked her.
I guess it's inevitable. Parents are just people. I feel that way about my dad, so much I wish I could have asked him. Thanks for the hug Mel :)
Hang in there - life is a maze.
My Mom and I speak only twice a yr - and that is when I call her. Cherish what you have.
Prayer helps me to connect with my Dad.
Life is a maze! And a Beautiful Struggle :) Yea I talk to my Dad a lot in my head. At the end of the day I wouldn't want to have had any other people as parents.
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