I Came Here to Bitch

My mother sent the snarkiest most sarcastic email to me today. sometimes I wonder what i did to deserve my family. Granted, I’m proud to be a member of this family because my Papa was the mutha fuckin shit! buuuuuuut honestly, this whole passive aggressive shit they’ve dished out to me my whole damn life i’m almost fucking FORTY years old!!! yet I’m the one who needs/should cater to them forever and always.

Why? Why do I have to continue to make people happy who never seem to care whether or not I’m happy? it’s fucking September! My daughter will be 18 years old next Saturday and there’s nothing i can possibly do without opening a can of worms neither she or i are even ready to smell at this point.

I miss my kid with every fiber of my being. I’ve asked for updates. pictures. news even. hell i wouldn’t care if they told me that she took a poop. they promised so much and i got nada. and i know i made the choice to give her up for adoption to my aunt and uncle. i honestly and naively thought that i would be able to see her grow without anything “weird” happening between me and my family but it got weird. they got weird. and i walked away. hardest most depressing decision outside of giving her up i’ve ever made in my fucking life. and guess what?!?!?!?! i regret it all. as selfish as this sounds, i really do regret it. but hindsight is 20/20 and here we are 17 years, 11 months and 22 days later.  yeah i know I’m crying wolf waaaaaaay too late.

At what point, does this thing get easier?

I don’t ask for anything. I don’t want anything. all i want is this pain to go away. all i want is an opportunity to have the family I’ve wanted and needed my entire life. but as “in a perfect world” as that sounds, I know I won’t have that with my mother’s family. I know that perhaps my presence is to show face and appear like everything is kosher and copacetic, when we all know the truth.

I felt it when i went to visit my mother and her husband a few months ago and i feel it now. the mom i want(ed) her to be will never be. She will always be the church mother who dishes out scripture and “just pray about it” for advice. She’s the church mother who has to be involved with missionary work, bible study, the choir, the deaconesses, the women’s auxiliary and everything else. Just. like. Grandma.

Is it too much to ask to have a mom who will share a glass of wine with me on our birthdays? Is it too much to ask to have a mom who will comfort me when I’m feeling like shit? Is it too much to ask to just have a fucking conversation without her shutting down or brushing me off?

To be honest, for her, I think I am asking too much. Before I hit 6th grade we were two peas in a pod. Before Papa died I had the mom i wanted and needed. Something happened. And I have no idea what.

sigh…

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Nerdtastic, Write?

I am an aspiring writer trying to find my place in the world. Writing makes me happy, saves lives much like coffee and keeps me grounded. To truly know me is to understand my way of thinking, my quirky sarcastic side comments and left upper cut verbal jabs and side eye death stares. I’m simplistic but can often be very complex in nature. I love life to the absolute fullest but I am human; therefore, I have more than my fair share of ups and downs. I am a giant kid so being goofy comes natural to me. I secretly strive to be the next Ernest Hemingway, J.K. Rowling, Zora Neale Hurston or Shonda Rhimes. I openly and stupidly wear every bit of my fucking heart on my sleeve and refuse to apologize for or minimize my true unedited feelings.