Tough Feelings

Anyone who has known me a short amount of time knows right off I have issues with my mother.  My blog is full of stories, hurt feelings and anger involving her.  I feel like I should just make a label for all of them. I am sitting writing yet another page about her and I can't help but wonder why I keep letting her bother me.  Why do I waste so much energy in turmoil over it. It took a lot of years for me to gain the confidence to say "no" to her, even though it still gives me a great deal of anxiety when I do. She still gets under my skin and makes me angry even when I know it's coming. After all the torment and abuse I sustained at her hand, I still let her come around. I haven't found the courage to write her off and move on. I guess deep down that just doesn't feel right.

I am almost 30 years old now. I am a mother to 3 children and struggling with not having a mother of my own. My mom used to rant about not doing to me what she perceived her own mother did to her, not being there when she had kids. Well I was born in South Carolina and my brother was born in Connecticut.  My grandparents lived in Colorado.  My dad was in the Navy. It's not like they lived close the whole time.  When I was growing up and we came to Colorado for good my mom did all she could to pit us against her side of the family as well as against our own father. So I would imagine that would make it hard for anyone do want to help. And so she went on and on about how much help she was going to be when her own kids had kids.  She didn't want us to experience her pain.

Fast forward to my pregnancy with Aiden. Mom provided a lot to me financially during that time. She bought the crib and many items for the nursery. She helped put food in the house when I had to cut back at work and had my savings spent by my ex because he refused to work extra. But it came at a price. In the beginning I was struggling with acceptance of the pregnancy because of things that were happening. I went to her one day crying about wanting an abortion and she stood there and told me whatever I wanted she would help with. There was no words of encouragement, no words telling me not to do this. Behind my back her and my ex plotted ways to get doctors to put me on drugs to keep me calm as they claimed "fear for the lives" because somewhere she has this notion that I would kill people in a postpartum rage. I was mentally abused by those two during the entire pregnancy.  The abuse continued after the birth where I was always told I didn't know what I was doing.  That I wasn't cut out to be a mother and so forth. I was ridiculed and questioned every step of the way until I finally was able to put her in her place the following summer after leaving Colorado. (You can read a bit about that HERE, HERE and HERE)

Fiona came along and she was there in Kansas for it. I held out until 48 hours before her 10 day stay was over because I was full of fear to be giving birth while she was around.  She ended up being quite helpful and so I stupidly thought coming back to Colorado was going to be better for me.  That I would have her help and maybe even a better relationship.

Yea I was wrong.  Way wrong. Instead all Hell broke lose with my brother and she has become a slave to him and the justice system. She goes running at his every becking call. She spends unknown amounts of money on him and has just forgotten about me. I didn't even bother to call her when I was in labor with Phoebe because she was in court with my brother.  She's been down here a handful of times since June when I had her and she's never here longer than an hour because she has some garbage to deal with for my brother. She hasn't even brought a gift for Phoebe and my mom speaks love through gifts.

I find myself feeling down and angry when I see or hear of other women who get so much help with their kids because their mom is present. If my mom was dead I'd probably see more help. But she's here and not doing a damn thing for me and I am resentful of that. I saw her more during the 2 1/2 years we lived in Kansas than I have in the 18 months we have been back here.  I'm about 400 miles closer now too. I really just want to scream and cry about it.  I want to hate and be angry at her for it. I want to tell her not to bother anymore. She's a waste of my time.

But none of that is going to get me anywhere. What I need is closure. I need to find acceptance and be OK with it.  I just don't know how to get there.