I wrote my mom off today……….
I never expected it to be this hard. I never imagined that I would feel so empty, so alone. I never thought that letting go of someone who doesn’t even want me could hurt so badly. I’ve cried. I’ve punched. I’ve walked. I’ve eaten. I’ve said affirmations. I’ve drawn. Nothing I’ve done alleviates the pain. It’s like this massive black hole sucking everything out of me, forcing me to give up. When I first started thinking about telling my mom that we no longer had any connection, or whatever, I thought it would be a lot easier. I thought that I would just email her and let her know how much she hurt me, that I deserve better, and that would be the end. I figured that I would let her know that I was done fighting so hard to make her a part of my life when she doesn’t even want to be a part of it. I thought that the email would be sent and then my life would just go on. At first, that is how it went, but then it hit me. What I had done smacked me in the face like a ton of bricks, and it hurt. She used to scare my brothers and I into behaving, when we were younger, by telling us that if we didn’t she would send us to the orphanage. The orphanage used to seem so bad, so scary. We were told that you only get one set of clothes, you sleep on the floor, and you eat pig food once a day. As bad as my life was, that was terrifying. It turns out they were wrong about the orphanage, huh? It wasn’t too bad. I don’t feel angry at my mom. I almost feel bad for her. I know that she refuses to acknowledge that I’m alive, that I’m her daughter, but to get an email saying that she isn’t a part of me anymore just seems harsh. I don’t regret it, but I wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of it. My mind keeps wandering, circling around the ideas of her reaction. Is she going to cry? Is she going to read it? Will she be relieved that now she really doesn’t have to pretend, that I’ve finally let go of her? Will she be sad? A part of me wishes I were a fly on the wall so I could know, but I can’t. Now I have to let her go and I’m struggling with it. I never expected anyone in my biological family to understand my decision, because most of my others have been frowned upon, but my Nanna did. I let her know because I want her to be prepared to hold my mom and comfort her, even if that doesn’t come true. I also wanted her to know because I knew that if she couldn’t accept it, then I would have to write her off too. She did. And it meant more to me than anything else she’s ever done for me. I try and I try to convince myself that I don’t need her, that I don’t need people, but I can’t. I tell myself over and over that even without them my life is okay, that I am okay, but then I catch myself needing someone–needing connection. The need for connection is no longer directed at her but rather my friends here. Zhanna. Bailey. What if I’m never able to accept that being alone is okay? What if that is not who I am? Just because I don’t need her doesn’t mean I don’t need others, and what if I’m never able to accept that the others might never be there? That’s what I struggle with. Needing my mom, wanting her, has been part of my life for so long that without it, I feel empty. A big part of me feels dead. I feel like my entire body is giving up. I know that others can’t meet the needs she was supposed to, nor will they, and so letting go of that desire is kind of scary, kind of sad. Preparing myself for a lone world is overwhelming because that’s not who I am, what I need…but it’s all I have, and I’m scared.