So this is my rants and raves page. This is where I vent. Today, I want to vent about my my life. Well, no, my mom. Or lack thereof really.
So I'm really not a bad person. I have a beatiful 19 mo. son, that is bright and wonderful. My husband and I get along very well. There are no fights. Sure the occasional argument, nothing's perfect. We live in a nice house in a nice area of town. I'm not a druggie, I'm not a thief. I don't conive or cheat. So why, in Gods' name, am I treated like I am all of these things?
I just don't get it. This is the thrid time in three years that we have stopped talking for an extended peroid or time. The first time I was 19. I had gotten out of an unhealth relationship and started seeing this guy who was rad. He was nice, attentive, sweet, loving, had a good job. He was willing to take care of me. Within the first week of dating. A little too fast, but he was so sweet....
Then the old dude came to my house and asked me how many times I had rolled over in bed and wanted to say his name (the yucky one) only to realize it wasn't him.
Well, that made me feel bad in regards to the nice dude, so I left him. And never told him why. I still feel horrible for those actions that happened 9 years ago.
Just a note: the nice dude is doing very well. I am actually pretty good friends with his wife whom he got together with right after I 'left him.' He has the most beautiful 4 year old girl. So I guess everything for a reason.
The yucky dude, I can't say he's doing all that well. He had taught me to be responsible for my own actions and that not enough people do that. I recently talked to him and he was trying to blame someone else for him being drunk on his motorcycle and laying it down. He didn't get hurt very bad, just some scrapes, but it was twice in one night. I just really wanted to laugh in his face, but I didn't.
So because I had gone back to the dude that wasn't going to take care of me. (My mom was already envisioning marriage and babies with the nice dude. A week into the relationship.) She decided I was bad and stopped talking to me for alike a year and a 1/2.
Then the next time, at 22, I wanted to deal with the fact that my step-father had violated my space. He never really 'touched' my boobies (I'm 14 at this time) but if was a finger's width higher, he would have been touching them.
Nothing else ever happened, but I was never ok with him again. I think it's somewhat understandable. So I wanted to deal with this, and I was told that it never happened, there was really nothing to discuss, but if I didn't call her before a certain day, like the day before I was going to TX to deal with my super lame ass druggie father. That I have now pretty much put out of my life. You know, like I don't have and never did. Kinda like he's dead to me.
So I'm pissed that my own mother doesn't believe me and isn't willing to even hear my side, since there wasn't any sides. It didn't happen remember?
So that was that. My mother and I lived in the same town and never once did I see her. Not in traffic, nothing. She worked downtown near the bus depot, (I didn't have a car for a long time. A very long time.)and I would avoid going through her place of work because too many people knew me there and I didn't want her to know anything about me. I was very thin and didn't look healthy. and I wasn't very healthy. I didn't feel healthy inside. Things weren't right with me, but if you knew all that background, it would make sense. Now I know that there are other people out there that are worse off, but there are others out there that are better too. This is just my story. Everbody's got one.
Well, three years later, I am a much healthier person. I'm in a good relationship. It looks like this guy may be the one. and I get pregnant. It's around x-mas time, and my mom sends a gift over with my (step)brother. The card has words in it that make me feel like maybe the time is right. Maybe they can see, and sit with my pain for a minute.
On X-mas eve day, so 12-24, I go over to her house. It was actually ok. I told her I was preggers, we talked she showed off all the money, I mean work, they had put into the house. I have to laugh. Here I am. A 25 year old woman (I guess we can say that) and my mom is having to puff out her chest and tell me how much this piece was and the $10,000 custom entertainment center. This is what we talk about in our first conversation in 3 and 1/2 years. I guess I should have taken a clue then.
My step-dad had been sleeping. When he came out we talked about what happened. I told my story and his response was, and I quote, "That's not how I remember it, but we don't need to go into details." *Mouth on floor* Ok, I'm thinking, you're actually saying that something happened. That's more than I had expected quite honestly.
So they throw me a huge (way too over board for me) baby shower. She bought me all kinds of gifts. I mean I feel like she was trying to buy me back.
Time went by, we're ok. My son is just over a year and I'm dropping him off so I can go to work. My mom and I are chit-chatting and I notice that leaning up against the way is a shot gun. Shells attached. I said that I wasn't very comfortable with that and her response was, 'You just don't know enough about them. We'll get you in a class so you're more comfortable with them.' *Again mouth on floor*
I talked to my husband about it and he told me that he actually wasn't very cool with her having him. He worries about his son when he is in her care. My phone rings about a hour later, and my heart jumps in my throat. I realize, that every time she calls, that's what my heart does. I'm afraid that she's about to tell me that I need to meet her at the emergency room. That's not a great feeling.
My hubby and I discuss somethings, and we decide that we need to tell her that she can't have him be herself. I told her just that, and she took it as that I was tekking her that she could never again have her grandson. She's totally emotional about it. She was so emotional that I couldn't even talk to her to tell her that what she think's is going on, really isn't what's going on.
I talk to my mom one day, like a day or two after I stated my boundries, and she's so emotional, I tell her that she's not helping and she hangs up on me.
Two days later my step dad calls me up and says that he wants to talk to me about the situation. He meets up with my hudbby and I at my hubby's work and me step dad proceeds to tell me that after I got off the phone with my mom she freaked out and had a huge asthma attack. She flailing her arms and really losing it so me step dad tries to hold her down so she's not using more oxygen (ok not the wisest idea on my step dads part) and she freaks out and slam him in the face giving him a huge black eye, then she decideds that coming after him with scissors is a good idea. WRONG!! He tells us that we're making the right decision, we just need to worry about our son and our son only.
Later on we find out that he's not on our team since my left him and didn't talk to him for 4 days. No communication what-so-ever. Well, his world falls apart and in order to keep my mom, he conforms to her way of thought. So now he can't even look at us.
You know, she's the one who has decided to take it to this level. At thanksgiving, she didn't want to tell me when dinner would be. I would have to call my grandmother, her mother to find that out.
My uncle just died of cancer. Just before he passed we had a family gathering at my grandparents house and first we didn't even know if they, my family, wanted us there. My mom was taking family photos. My hubby had to actually ask my mom if she wanted us there bacause we were getting the impression that we weren't welcome.
But when we got there, both my mom and step dad hovered around my uncle. My brother told me the next day that before i got there, they weren't even hanging around my uncle. But as soon as I got there, they were hovering. My step dad couldn't even look at me, and almost refused to shake my hubby's hand.
My Uncle dies two days later, I'm at the hospital, and she still can't talk to me. Nor can my step dad look at me. Luckily my grandfather sees all this go down. Unfortunately, my grandparents won't talk to my mom. They're too old and don't want to risk having any more family problems.
She's a total bitch the whole time at the funeral. I had been there for quite some time, and so had my cousin, but when we all sat down for the viewing to begin, she had to walk by me to on my cousin. Totally got in my space, but still refused to talk to me.
So now I am going to see a professional so that maybe I can develope some sort of coping tools.