My Mother the Banshee Hag

Oh, Internet.  Yesterday was a train wreck. Which I didn't need, of course (I mean who needs that anyway?). I'd been dealing with a pretty full plate anyway, feeling hurt by some things someone said to me not long ago, worrying about everything I need to get done in the next couple of months, and still not feeling okay with the discovery that I have a tipped uterus.

So yesterday, at work (and it had been a good work day, chuggin' along, getting everything done that needed to get done), when I received a phone call with some pretty insane news pertaining to my useless mother, it through me for a loop. I really and truly cannot discuss it (mostly for legal reasons) on here, but I can say that my mother is a pathetic excuse for a human being and, despite our estrangement, I now have to clean up her mess. Once again.

But, being at work, I dealt with it. It made my day insanely stressful, but I mostly held it together. I vented to a couple of coworkers and a friend that I met for tea, but I didn't lose it. I had it all under control.

Until I got in the car to go home.

That's when I started sobbing. I sobbed all the way home, loudly, my tears running down my neck and soaking my shirt. And of course, when I got home, that's when my young neighbor decides to tell me that she's having a party that night and I should come by (as I pretended my red eyes and nose were a result of allergies) while I politely congratulated her but declined because I wasn't feeling well. Last night I spent the evening feeling like I'd been hit by a bus, wavering between tears and anger, self pity and more self pity.

I think it's because I hadn't really finished grieving. See, when I started therapy, I went through a grieving process for the mother I never had. Because my mom isn't a mother. She's a non-mother. Instead of support and nurturing, I had a constant stream of emotional and physical abuse. For anyone who's known my mother, I'm sure you're thinking, yeah she's odd and irritating, but really? Abusive? I'm here to tell you that she's insane and she privately beat the shit out of me ever since I can remember. I'm not joking when I say that she is insane.

And I'd thought I completed that process. I'd certainly gone through the stages and I've been feeling pretty good for a while now. But yesterday's bombshell threw me right back to childhood and I realized that I'd grieved for MY mom, I hadn't grieved for a mother, any mother, for the fact that I'd never really had a mother at all.

My dad didn't help things either. I'm still close with my pop and he's usually pretty supportive of my decision to not have anything to do with my mom (except I think he thinks I'm being unreasonable), but last night? He was incredibly insensitive. For him, you just buck up and power through. I shouldn't be hurt by this. I was thinking all wrong.

And that? That pissed me off. Nothing angers me more than someone telling me I'm thinking wrong or feeling wrong. That's too personal and my feelings, no matter how painful, are valid and I deserve to feel them. And the way I saw it? My mom is fucking lucky I'm taking care of this shit for her and that's one more reason that she's failed completely. I've once again stepped into the role of mother for my mom, something I've done since 14 and I'd thought I was done with.

I have a right to feel resentful and hurt and overwhelmed.

Despite my neighbor's party, I was able to finally fall asleep with the assistance of ear plugs and Tylenol PM and Benadryl and I awoke this morning feeling significantly better. I'm still angry and annoyed, but I'm done crying (at least for now). I just needed to spend an evening crying and now I'm even more resolute that even if I am picking up the pieces of a selfish banshee for the rest of my life, I will never want anything to do with her.

And that adds Mother's Day to the long list of holidays I hate.