I miss my mom.
A couple weeks ago she was in London attending a conference and she was lucky enough to be able to come over to Dublin for a couple of days to visit, just in time for St. Patrick's Day.
I was happy that she was going to come over, seeing that there was no way my
Dad was going to, and I never see her. So, anytime spent with mom is
special.
It's weird for me though because the way I feel about her is all fucked up.
I love her to death because she is so cool. She's supportive, open-minded, and is just a very loving person. But at the same time she is a space-cadet. Completely "out there," floating amongst the stars. This can be real funny sometimes, and cute, 'cause she can be like a little kid. But although she has given me a lot of support and love over the years, I still feel that she wasn't really there when I needed her to be there.
So there is an enormous amount of emotions that consume me when it comes to thinking about my mom.
Sometimes I feel angry. Angry that she wasn't around when I was growing up. Angry that she moved to Maine, leaving me feeling deserted, feeling forced into something I didn't want to do. I had to move in with my father.And even now, as I begin to slowly drift away from my family life into my own, I still feel that there is something missing, something that isn't right.
And I miss her.
And I feel guilty that I didn't get more days off from work while she was here. I feel guilty because I didn't go up and see her in Maine this past summer, when I could have, easily. And I feel guilty that I only spent three days with her at Christmas time.
So yeah, I am upset at myself, and as much as I feel that I shouldn't be, because, it's not like she goes insanely out of her way to see me, she is still my mother, and I still love her, and it was wrong of me to work as much as I did while she was here.
I was thinking about all of this last night, got a little upset, and as usual, it got me thinking about my life.
I feel like I have never had a "normal" anything. And I know that the whole notion of "normal" is bullshit, but there's good old society, forcing its stereotypes on me and influencing my desires and needs.
My parents got
divorced when I was three, I was
torn between them as a child, and neither of them were around all that much. My two older sisters spent most of their time together and left me out of
everything. So I felt rejected from day one. Not only did I grow to realize that society and a good majority of the people in it didn't want anything to do with me, but it felt like my family didn't either. So I was in
a world of shit, never mind all of the other crap that I went through growing up.
And all of this stays with me, remains inside me, waiting to be settled, to be dealt with, bubbling up inside, scraping to get out of the dark, cavernous pit that some might refer to as my soul. And it hurts sometimes. And I wonder if I will ever feel satisfied with myself and with my life.
And even though a part of me knows that it shouldn't matter, I wonder if I will ever feel "normal," ever.
Something tells me that I am not going to get an answer.
Something tells me that I am going to struggle with all of this for the rest of my life.
And I accept this I suppose. I have no choice in the matter really. I just wish I didn't have to feel this way all the time, and that I wasn't so influenced by all of the crap that is around me and has been fed to me.
But actually, no, forget all of that. Today, I just miss my mom. I miss the part of her that was never there too, but I miss her. And I long for the time when I will see her again for I know it will be many moons till then.
Even though I know you will never read this mom, I love you and I miss you.