Now that everything is finally coming to an end with my mother’s last bullshit delusion, I am finally ready to talk about this last experience with her.
Let’s take it back to the beginning of 2015…
2014 ended like most years ended for me. Single, working, and promising myself on New Year’s Eve at midnight that next year I’ll spend it differently. I woke up New Year’s day thinking about why I was still single after a decade of being a single mom. It’s never been an issue to meet guys or even keep a man in my life but to keep one close enough that I considered him a partner was pretty damn near impossible for me. Even at that time I was seeing nobody but had three guys in my life that all took the place of one man for me. Never letting any of them in close enough to even have a physical relationship, I was definitely feeling very lonely that morning.
I decided to start really looking at my life. My daughter was off in her first year of college and my son was going into middle school and was just a few years away from high school and was now finding more time for his friends then his mama. After analyzing my life that day I kept thinking of something my guy friend / ex boyfriend/ only person who has known me since I was 11, Pete said when we broke off our commitment to each other a few months before. He made it clear I was a dented can who didn’t know how to love and didn’t ever allow anyone to love back. He deemed me unlovable! Even if I was still bitter with his comment , I realized that morning he was right ….I was unlovable and a dented can so I decided after a decade plus of no contact with my mother whatsoever that I reach out to her and maybe figure out why I was such an unlovable dented can.
Of course reaching out to a mother I haven’t spoken with, that I didn’t allow her around my children was an anxiety filled experience of its own. I kept justifying it by that I needed to repair my dents and since my biggest fear was becoming anything like my mother I needed to actually know , understand what I was so scared of…
The first meeting with my mother just left me asking more questions about my childhood and my family. She told me all about how my father thought I was a drug addict, how my sister hated me and wanted nothing to do with me , and everything two of my sisters were saying about me including what a bad mother I was. Now I should have just assumed my mother was not being honest but at this time I knew she was on her meds , I knew she was being mentally taken care of for the last two years and with everything she said I knew there was truth behind it. My sisters and I didn’t speak and I also was aware of the vicious rumors my younger sister spread about me. I cut my sisters out of my life and already had a distant relationship with my father so for the first time in my life I started to question everything I knew about my family. “Maybe my mother wasn’t so bad but just ill , maybe my family did to her what it seemed they have done to me… make her into a monster that she wasn’t…..”
The crazy thing about life is just because one thing is bad doesn’t mean the other option is any better…. the next few months proved that. I spent more time with my mom and started to build a weird but new relationship with her, during this time I also decided to stop pushing Peter away and we started dating again.
After a few months I found out I was pregnant. At this time I already was uncomfortable with my relationship with my mother, I noticed she was having more manic times then not, I started seeing that her delusions started to slowly creep in and I noticed that she was no longer taking any meds. I realized quickly that having a relationship with my mother came at a cost because soon after finding out I was having some personal issues she took my car without permission drove it to one of many boyfriends places and on the way back from his place rear ended another person and took off. Which normally would be a slight pain in the ass but instead it became devestating because the day before I told my mother how my car was unregistered and uninsured and how it could not be on the road….. What my mom heard.. “drive car , crash car, don’t tell Heather”. Things only got worse for me after that during my pregnancy Peter and I broke up because I didn’t like some of his behaviors. And since I was living with Peter there was a point when I had no place to go but my mom’s couch… yeah I said it I lived on my mom’s couch for about a month when I discovered that my mom was having another crazy delusion……..I realized my mother in her head was planning on taking / adopting Ben. She had a name picked out, she was telling people she had a surrogate, she was taking lactating pills and had a breastpump for herself. Every sign pointed to a bad end for me and Ben. So with no car, no job, no place to live, and 7 months pregnant I took off.
That’s when I really poked the beast….
My mother was extremely angry when I left not because she was worried about my health or safety but because I ruined her plan to have another child. My mother decided it was time for “karma” to act on her behalf. She called my doctors office to tell them she suspected opiate use on my end, she called my father and told him I broke into his house for drug money, she called the state offices and said I was not being honest about my income, and my favorite part was when she called dcf stating I was a herion user and they came to the hospital and tested me and my placenta for drug usage.
For my safety and to avoid anymore issues I decided that I would never talk or deal with my mother again but just as I cleared up any chances of my mother stealing Ben late January she came up with her new latest delusion..
Now the part that I bet 1000 woman are interested in hearing my mother’s pregnancy delusion , book , and viral sensation which I’m going to talk about in my next blog but for today I’m done writing.
Until next time my friends,
A DENTED CAN!
Let me end this with a little something I wrote a long time ago, that helps me when I feel weak.
The crisp smell of dew on a early spring morning.
The first breath you take after sleeping away sadness.
The first smile you have after you beat depression.
The first time you laugh after being hurt.
A single mother being able to hold everything together as the world falls apart.
The smell of the oceans airs as it slowly passes down your nasal cavity deep down into your soul.