Today, I struggled. This week is a battle and it’s only Monday. A battle between what I want, what I need, and what reality is. February is a month that brings in a lot of negative memories. My body is trained to know when those dates are and how it should react, and believe me, it never fails. Six years ago, yesterday, one of my best friends passed away. He was killed and it should have been me. Six years ago, I should have been the one to have died not him. I was supposed to be hanging out with my friends that day but my foster mom wouldn’t let me, which never happened; she never cared enough to say no. The next morning {today, six years ago} I got a call that flipped my world. I was devastated, and then I was angry. I couldn’t comprehend why someone other than me would be taken out of this life. I was hurt. I didn’t want to be alive and I hadn’t for a long time. I was jealous. So many negative emotions swirled inside of me creating a deep, deep hatred towards myself. I had known, and been friends with, this boy for a long time. We used to live by each other and would play together as young children. He was a good kid. He had a family who loved him and friends that adored him. He was smart. He was talented. He was loving. He was everything I wasn’t and had everything I didn’t have. I thought so many times of how much better it would have been had I been taken. I wondered if people would have even noticed my absence. I didn’t have friends, a family, or people who surrounded me with love. I was an orphan. I wished to be dead just so I could know that someone cared. I wanted so badly to die just to know that my mom still loved me and that I was special in her eyes. I wanted to know that she would come to the funeral, that she would cry, and  sit like my friends mom and softly rub my stone face. I wanted to know that the kids at school knew who I was and that I wasn’t just a shadow in the corner. I needed to know that I was more than a kid lost in the system, that I was not just a paycheck. I needed to know that someone truly cared about me. I couldn’t figure out how someone could be so alone in a world so big. I didn’t know who would be there if I’d have been the one in the hospital dying. Death seemed to be the only answer and to know that someone, let alone my best friend, took that from me truly saddened me. When I think about it now I see that it may seem selfish or unruly, that I could have thought up better ways to desire that craving but honestly, I wasn’t in a place where I could see past that. I was so dark in a pit of despair that there was no light. Today, I still have those cravings. The effect of my best friends death still stings me just as bad, if not worse than it did six years ago. I still want/need to know my mom loves me and cares. I still seek her approval. The worst part is, six years later my mom still refuses to acknowledge that I exist. She refuses to let the world know that she has a daughter, somewhere out there, who loves her. Out of 8+ kids, there is only one that she refuses to accept and that’s me. It hurts. I don’t like to feel it, so naturally this is a topic I often avoid, however, my mom’s birthday is coming up and once again I feel myself fighting to catch her approval. I can’t tell you how difficult it is to want or need something so bad but the world refuses to give it. I know that somewhere deep down my mom really loves me. If she didn’t she wouldn’t have kept me, but it doesn’t soften the pain that follows her rejection. I know, deep down, that she refuses to acknowledge my existence because I remind her too much of herself and she can’t stand that. I am stronger than she, I am facing my feelings, I am learning to make my life work, I am getting rid of all my angries and allowing myself to learn love and so she chooses to spite me. I really believe that my mom sees my potential and she runs because she knows that she too has that potential and has put it to waste. My mom is strong, but she wasn’t strong enough to make her life a good one. Today, I know that my mom isn’t ready to face her demons or conquer her past. She is not ready to let go of the mistakes she has made and allow love into her life. She is lost. I am lost. That is one thing we share…but I am slowly being found and soon our connection will be cut. We will no longer hold a similar thread that ties us so closely, yet distantly, together. I envy that day. I don’t want to be lost anymore. I don’t want to wake up in the morning and wonder who cares. I don’t want to have to think about who would be there in an emergency. I want to be free of my pain and my sorrow, to live in love and happiness, and to seek joy in the world. If it takes cutting her connection, I’m ready.

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2 thoughts on “Envious Despair

  1. I just came over from reading your comment at iadoptee. I remember thiNking the same kinds of things about my parents…maybe if I got sick…died…my parents would remember that they really loved me…like for me…unconditionally…it hasn’t happened.

    I love my parents but they are who they are….it is sad, but we can learn to live with it.

    1. Yeah, I know my mom loves me now…. it was a phase I went through and one that I often find myself returning to. I don’t think that anything I could do would affect the system my mom has put into place to “avoid” me. I know my mom is in a place where she can’t let herself love me. You are right, they are who they are and we just kinda learn to live with it! Hang strong and thanks for reading! 🙂

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