Somewhere in the Middle
I am in an interesting mood tonight
I think right now, I need a mom. I've had two, in my life. I've had two moms, one dad, and not a lot of parenting. I've had a mom who had no idea how to be a parent, or an adult, or how to nurture. She can take care of me by doing things for me, helping me out when I need it, and that's good. But emotionally, my mom can't handle me, because when I turned 14, I was more mature. So, no matter what it is, I can't turn to my mom. I've had her tell me more than a few times how wise I am. I can't go to her when I am the one with the advice. I'm strong enough to bear my mother, but it is not the other way around. I know this. I always have. My mother is not strong in the way that I would need her to be. My other mom is stronger... but she's done some things that I really can't deal with. She's hurt me, and broken me down, and crushed my spirit a lot more than I think is fair. She's also done a lot of kind things, and she is strong enough to listen, if I needed her to... but I think that she would also use what she heard to break me more, and I can't have that either. And my dad is... was... the strong silent type, to whom I would never speak to about anything other than my car, my tires, oil changes, and the weather.
I think soon enough I will have my dad. A real parent, who I can go to and talk to, and who will give me advice, because he is wise, and he can teach me things and guide me a lot. And I'm very happy that I will have this. It'll be a while. Right now, my dad is focused on himself, and rightly so, and I have no expectation that I should come first right now.
But, what I need, what I NEVER had, was to be nurtured. I don't have a mom like that. A mom who I can go to, lay down on the couch and put my head in their lap and they will stroke my hair and let me cry, and tell me it's all okay the way that moms are supposed to. My mom would just cry herself, and then I would end up being the mom to her.
I wonder sometimes, if it's because of the things I've seen, the lives I've lived that I am the way that I am. I care so much about people. I hurt for people, and I love them so much, maybe more than I even need to. Tonight I was texting with my 'other' mother, who I shouldn't even be speaking with. Somehow, she ended up asking if I wanted to come watch a movie. I knew she was home alone. And I didn't go, because I know better, given the current climate. And she knew that I wouldn't come. But I wanted to. Because I was lonely, and because somehow, in my head, even though I know how HORRIBLE AND AWFUL everything is, I was thinking of how badly I hurt when I am the one making mistakes, and I long for someone to come, and hold me, and even when they know all I've done, that they cared enough to come, and to love me back anyway, and to maybe MAYBE help to pull me back. Or maybe I'm self righteous. Or maybe I'm lonely. I just want a mom. I want a grown up woman who will take me in her arms and let me cry and tell me it's all okay. I want someone who will teach me how to be the woman I am supposed to be. Because I have been teaching myself. And I don't think I'm a very good teacher, being as I have no training, and no idea what is going on.
I keep watching, and I try to do whatever they didn't do. Or I try not to do what they did. Or I just try to stay on my own two feet and not fuck it all up. Well, then, as I'm going along, trying to get it right, trying to be okay, and trying to learn how to be a woman, trying to figure out how exactly to be a mom, and hoping that someday, if I ever become a wife, I get that part right too. Okay, really, I have no expectations of getting it right, really... but I at least hope that I will know enough to do it passionately and truly. Whatever it is. The problem is, as I'm going along, trying not to be what they were, and I see everything crash and burn AGAIN I start to lose control. I should be more grown up than this! I should be better than to allow the pain of their life to cause me to topple a little bit. Sometimes I'm lost, like everyone else at this age, between a grown up and a child. I grew up so fast when I learned the truth about the world, about my world. I grew up so fast when I knew what people could really be. My naivety was ripped off me like a band aid from a sensitive piece of skin. Sometimes, I am still this stupid scared little girl, standing with her back to the kitchen wall watching the dust settle, yelling ringing in my ears, and tears streaking down my cheeks. Sometimes, I am still waking up, bleary eyed, to find my mom is gone. Sometimes, I can't believe that it doesn't happen to everyone. When you see it happen twice in one life time in your own life, twice, when you thought that this time around was better than the last. Maybe I just wanted to believe that I would get that picture perfect life.
Maybe that's why I love her still, even though she hurt me so much, so many times, with every wrong choice, with every harsh word, that I believed she was doing it to 'mother' me. Even though all of this is happening. Because she was so the opposite of my mother, and I knew my mother hadn't done anything that could be called mothering so maybe this really was it. I noticed that it was just me. Not all of us girls that struggled against it. Just me. What is wrong with my emotional wiring that despite every reason to hate her, I love her. I want to hug her and talk to her, because maybe, I have to believe that someone can find a way back.
A way to be good again.
There is a way to be good again...
I'm jealous of people who go home for Christmas. Of my friends who are married, and have husbands with them, or friends who go home, and stay with their parents. Hell, I'm jealous of people with homes. I have been my own home since I was 20. There is no 'going home' for me. There is no place where I grew up anymore, other than in photographs and memories, and stories that we tell. There is no place to return. Well, there is, but I don't live there anymore, and some of the places I can still go, but I never lived there. It took me a while to identify that feeling... at first I was sad because I felt lonely around Christmas, and it was hard to wake up alone. But then I finally realized it was the lack of a home. For me, all there is is the hope that I can undo the things done to me for my children. That they will always have a place to return to.
Every time I see my sister now, I realize how badly I miss her when she's not here. Because she is my sister. And therefore, one half of me. There are things that I would never tell my sister about myself. Not because I have any expectation of preserving an image or anything, but because I just wouldn't, but I love her. She knows me, through and through. I can be myself, wild, crazy, and completely dorky, and she will get it, embrace it, and probably repeat it later on (even if I want to kill her, like when she does the stupid big cookie dance).
Some days, it feels like I've stalled. I'm both growing up and not. I'm moving forward and I'm stuck right here, rooted on the spot unable to move. Movement involves risk. Relationships involve injury. Life involves trust. Right now, I feel like I am a failure at all of them. I keep making mistakes, I keep becoming someone I'm not. Whenever this happens, and I start to get all "in my head" about stuff, the only thing that comes to mind is when I lived in Pittsburgh, and Chelsea had this ex boyfriend who's name I can't remember. And this ex-boyfriend's solution to all problems was "increase your mileage" and I can't help but think he is right.
Increase your mileage.
Sometimes, I feel like I need to summarize everything I write, even though I probably don't, because it wasn't an assignment, it's not an essay, and did I even cover key points? I guess though, the summary would be... I am desperately wanting for some parents. Or more specifically, for a mom. One who will advise me, love me, hold me, teach me, and let me cry. Somewhere, this woman exists, and I will find her, and hope that she will adopt me. I want a family, and I want a place to call home. I hate that my lack of trust right now, even by proxy for other people's loss of trust got the best of me. I want to be happy. Most of the time, I am completely happy. But it's a hard life.
Sometimes I feel as if I am being self indulgent and a little bit martyr-esque when I start talking like I struggle more than others. But, it really is true. I feel guilty when I get sad. I get angry at myself when I am not happy, when my mood goes downhill, and I cry. I loathe that I might appear depressed, because I'm not, I am just... tired. And I hate trying to explain this to anyone who starts to wonder what my problem is because it's exhausting. Being a single mother is exhausting. I would never trade this life for the other, but sometimes, I can't keep my chin up. Some days, there are no words of encouragement. Some days, I am a mother, and a listening ear for my father, and a chatterbox with my mom, and a friend, and a coworker, and I start to lose track of myself. It sounds like I am trying to pat myself on the back here or something, and that's really not it. It's more of a "if it seems like I have no sense of self today, it's because I am everything else". Some days, I don't get a single hug. Many days, I don't hear a lot of words of encouragement.
I read the 5 love languages once, and I figured out that physical touch is my biggest love language. Absolutely, hands down, physical touch. When I can't have, or don't have, that... I start to struggle. After that is words of affirmation. It seems like the two things that I get the least of are the things I am desperately needing. Some days, I'm great, and I get enough of these things to get me by... but some days, I think...
All of this writing has gotten my brain to really start working through why I'm struggling a little bit. I'm just wishing I had a mom, because I need to be nurtured before I start to dwindle a little bit.
I feel very young and small tonight... and very lonely, like a little girl who's gotten lost, and I'm looking around and waiting for a familiar hand to pull me out.
I think right now, I need a mom. I've had two, in my life. I've had two moms, one dad, and not a lot of parenting. I've had a mom who had no idea how to be a parent, or an adult, or how to nurture. She can take care of me by doing things for me, helping me out when I need it, and that's good. But emotionally, my mom can't handle me, because when I turned 14, I was more mature. So, no matter what it is, I can't turn to my mom. I've had her tell me more than a few times how wise I am. I can't go to her when I am the one with the advice. I'm strong enough to bear my mother, but it is not the other way around. I know this. I always have. My mother is not strong in the way that I would need her to be. My other mom is stronger... but she's done some things that I really can't deal with. She's hurt me, and broken me down, and crushed my spirit a lot more than I think is fair. She's also done a lot of kind things, and she is strong enough to listen, if I needed her to... but I think that she would also use what she heard to break me more, and I can't have that either. And my dad is... was... the strong silent type, to whom I would never speak to about anything other than my car, my tires, oil changes, and the weather.
I think soon enough I will have my dad. A real parent, who I can go to and talk to, and who will give me advice, because he is wise, and he can teach me things and guide me a lot. And I'm very happy that I will have this. It'll be a while. Right now, my dad is focused on himself, and rightly so, and I have no expectation that I should come first right now.
But, what I need, what I NEVER had, was to be nurtured. I don't have a mom like that. A mom who I can go to, lay down on the couch and put my head in their lap and they will stroke my hair and let me cry, and tell me it's all okay the way that moms are supposed to. My mom would just cry herself, and then I would end up being the mom to her.
I wonder sometimes, if it's because of the things I've seen, the lives I've lived that I am the way that I am. I care so much about people. I hurt for people, and I love them so much, maybe more than I even need to. Tonight I was texting with my 'other' mother, who I shouldn't even be speaking with. Somehow, she ended up asking if I wanted to come watch a movie. I knew she was home alone. And I didn't go, because I know better, given the current climate. And she knew that I wouldn't come. But I wanted to. Because I was lonely, and because somehow, in my head, even though I know how HORRIBLE AND AWFUL everything is, I was thinking of how badly I hurt when I am the one making mistakes, and I long for someone to come, and hold me, and even when they know all I've done, that they cared enough to come, and to love me back anyway, and to maybe MAYBE help to pull me back. Or maybe I'm self righteous. Or maybe I'm lonely. I just want a mom. I want a grown up woman who will take me in her arms and let me cry and tell me it's all okay. I want someone who will teach me how to be the woman I am supposed to be. Because I have been teaching myself. And I don't think I'm a very good teacher, being as I have no training, and no idea what is going on.
I keep watching, and I try to do whatever they didn't do. Or I try not to do what they did. Or I just try to stay on my own two feet and not fuck it all up. Well, then, as I'm going along, trying to get it right, trying to be okay, and trying to learn how to be a woman, trying to figure out how exactly to be a mom, and hoping that someday, if I ever become a wife, I get that part right too. Okay, really, I have no expectations of getting it right, really... but I at least hope that I will know enough to do it passionately and truly. Whatever it is. The problem is, as I'm going along, trying not to be what they were, and I see everything crash and burn AGAIN I start to lose control. I should be more grown up than this! I should be better than to allow the pain of their life to cause me to topple a little bit. Sometimes I'm lost, like everyone else at this age, between a grown up and a child. I grew up so fast when I learned the truth about the world, about my world. I grew up so fast when I knew what people could really be. My naivety was ripped off me like a band aid from a sensitive piece of skin. Sometimes, I am still this stupid scared little girl, standing with her back to the kitchen wall watching the dust settle, yelling ringing in my ears, and tears streaking down my cheeks. Sometimes, I am still waking up, bleary eyed, to find my mom is gone. Sometimes, I can't believe that it doesn't happen to everyone. When you see it happen twice in one life time in your own life, twice, when you thought that this time around was better than the last. Maybe I just wanted to believe that I would get that picture perfect life.
Maybe that's why I love her still, even though she hurt me so much, so many times, with every wrong choice, with every harsh word, that I believed she was doing it to 'mother' me. Even though all of this is happening. Because she was so the opposite of my mother, and I knew my mother hadn't done anything that could be called mothering so maybe this really was it. I noticed that it was just me. Not all of us girls that struggled against it. Just me. What is wrong with my emotional wiring that despite every reason to hate her, I love her. I want to hug her and talk to her, because maybe, I have to believe that someone can find a way back.
A way to be good again.
There is a way to be good again...
I'm jealous of people who go home for Christmas. Of my friends who are married, and have husbands with them, or friends who go home, and stay with their parents. Hell, I'm jealous of people with homes. I have been my own home since I was 20. There is no 'going home' for me. There is no place where I grew up anymore, other than in photographs and memories, and stories that we tell. There is no place to return. Well, there is, but I don't live there anymore, and some of the places I can still go, but I never lived there. It took me a while to identify that feeling... at first I was sad because I felt lonely around Christmas, and it was hard to wake up alone. But then I finally realized it was the lack of a home. For me, all there is is the hope that I can undo the things done to me for my children. That they will always have a place to return to.
Every time I see my sister now, I realize how badly I miss her when she's not here. Because she is my sister. And therefore, one half of me. There are things that I would never tell my sister about myself. Not because I have any expectation of preserving an image or anything, but because I just wouldn't, but I love her. She knows me, through and through. I can be myself, wild, crazy, and completely dorky, and she will get it, embrace it, and probably repeat it later on (even if I want to kill her, like when she does the stupid big cookie dance).
Some days, it feels like I've stalled. I'm both growing up and not. I'm moving forward and I'm stuck right here, rooted on the spot unable to move. Movement involves risk. Relationships involve injury. Life involves trust. Right now, I feel like I am a failure at all of them. I keep making mistakes, I keep becoming someone I'm not. Whenever this happens, and I start to get all "in my head" about stuff, the only thing that comes to mind is when I lived in Pittsburgh, and Chelsea had this ex boyfriend who's name I can't remember. And this ex-boyfriend's solution to all problems was "increase your mileage" and I can't help but think he is right.
Increase your mileage.
Sometimes, I feel like I need to summarize everything I write, even though I probably don't, because it wasn't an assignment, it's not an essay, and did I even cover key points? I guess though, the summary would be... I am desperately wanting for some parents. Or more specifically, for a mom. One who will advise me, love me, hold me, teach me, and let me cry. Somewhere, this woman exists, and I will find her, and hope that she will adopt me. I want a family, and I want a place to call home. I hate that my lack of trust right now, even by proxy for other people's loss of trust got the best of me. I want to be happy. Most of the time, I am completely happy. But it's a hard life.
Sometimes I feel as if I am being self indulgent and a little bit martyr-esque when I start talking like I struggle more than others. But, it really is true. I feel guilty when I get sad. I get angry at myself when I am not happy, when my mood goes downhill, and I cry. I loathe that I might appear depressed, because I'm not, I am just... tired. And I hate trying to explain this to anyone who starts to wonder what my problem is because it's exhausting. Being a single mother is exhausting. I would never trade this life for the other, but sometimes, I can't keep my chin up. Some days, there are no words of encouragement. Some days, I am a mother, and a listening ear for my father, and a chatterbox with my mom, and a friend, and a coworker, and I start to lose track of myself. It sounds like I am trying to pat myself on the back here or something, and that's really not it. It's more of a "if it seems like I have no sense of self today, it's because I am everything else". Some days, I don't get a single hug. Many days, I don't hear a lot of words of encouragement.
I read the 5 love languages once, and I figured out that physical touch is my biggest love language. Absolutely, hands down, physical touch. When I can't have, or don't have, that... I start to struggle. After that is words of affirmation. It seems like the two things that I get the least of are the things I am desperately needing. Some days, I'm great, and I get enough of these things to get me by... but some days, I think...
All of this writing has gotten my brain to really start working through why I'm struggling a little bit. I'm just wishing I had a mom, because I need to be nurtured before I start to dwindle a little bit.
I feel very young and small tonight... and very lonely, like a little girl who's gotten lost, and I'm looking around and waiting for a familiar hand to pull me out.