But its like getting shot and trying to hide the bullet wound,
you can tough out the pain, and you can treat the pain, but eventually, that wound will expose you. You have to get the bullet out.
If the wound is left untreated, infection spreads and causes more damage. The longer you wait, the worse it gets.
So why hide it? Why draw out the pain and continue to hurt when it could be stopped? Is it your ego? Are you afraid of forcing this hassle onto someone else? Is it a procrastination issue? Do you fear the pain of removing the bullet so much that you try and avoid it altogether, hoping that it will just go away?
What if you felt as if this was your fate... you were shot for a reason and you are supposed to suffer the consequence of your fate? You fear that others will judge you so harshly, that you welcome the pain upon yourself, hoping to receive sympathy rather than criticism and a quick recovery.
In the end, the consequence of waiting seems silly!
My life has always left me confused with unanswered and confusing scenarios.. I never felt/feel WHOLE. There is something missing. I have been piecing my screwed up reality together, trying to make sense of the emptiness I have always felt. My parents recently separated, and the answers I have always been on the lookout for suddenly unravelled before me. I have never felt genuine 'love' from my mom. I remember vividly a nightmare I had when I was about five or six years old: I was on a walk with my mom, and we walked past a neighborhood bully, his name was Russell, and Russell wouldn't let us cross the street where he lived. He flagged us down as if we had violated a rule. He then pulled out a notebook from his bright neon-green construction vest and ordered my mom to tell him her first and last name. She told him, and he wrote it down in his notepad and gave us a violation, ordering us to report back at this specific date and time, and we did. It was all very serious and no questions were asked. I remember next standing on the mountain, looking in at a huge "V" shaped hole in the ground. The hole was probably 10 ft deep and 3ft wide. He pushed my mom in the hole, and forced me to watch as he jammed an enormous heart-shaped boulder (resembling a valentine cookie), on top of my mom. I vividly remember the point of this heart-boulder had crushed and impaled my mother. The dream absolutely horrified me! I was crying when I awoke, in fear that my mom was gone, and I continued to cry as I ran down the stairs into my parents room. I remember my mom was on the bed side closest to the door. I ran to her side and shook her awake. "Mom,.. I had a really bad dream that you died" I said, under my tears, "It's ok Tay, go sleep on the couch" she said. So, I did. I went and laid down on the couch and cried myself to sleep. I had that dream over and over again.
Now that I'm a mom , I have a daughter about that same age, and I always look back and wonder why my mom didn't provide more, (if any) comfort that night...
I understand that every mother makes mistakes, but for me, that was the first sign of a deeper growing concern.
I have not been the perfect daughter, either, but my next red flag has caused so much more pain and tears on my pillow than any nightmare I could imagine...
My parents got married because my mom was pregnant with me. I always thought my Dad loved my Mom, but she didn't feel it. Maybe he married her because he thought she would be a good mother to his kids, and not because he was in love with her. When I was little, I was my Dads little buddy. He would take me fishing and camping when my mom was working. Here's the truth that was never said: My mom blames me for ruining her life. She blames me for my Dad not loving her! Because she got pregnant, my Dad married her. He loved me like any Dad should. My Mom hated me for that. She wanted his love so bad that she continues to push me out, resentful of every kind thing my Dad ever did. The evidence is impossible to deny- the list and the memories go on and on and it continues. She continues to take it all out on me- just because I was born... and that's a hard pill to swallow!
One thing my Mom doesn't see- My ex-husband is abusive, and my Dad walked out on me too! At least my mom has the most loving Dad in the world. She was raised with love and my Grandpa still shows her that he loves her. I wish I could say the same-
This is the day my little Brother, Morgan, got married. My mom is beautiful and looked so pretty that day. It was a beautiful, happy day! It was the first time our family had all been together since my parents split, and it felt good to take that first step.
I love this picture. These are the girls in my family. Such a cute picture. I tagged my mom in it on facebook...
She made an edit- and set it as her profile picture. (Still her picture, after more than a year).
She cropped me out of the picture. and it hurt- still, it hurts.
What am I supposed to think? What's wrong with me? I was trying so hard to measure up- I had a year of complete sobriety under my belt, thanks to my Aunt and Uncle, taking me in after I hit rock bottom harder than hard. I was divorced and left with nothing. I started from the bottom. My daughter was ripped from my fingertips and I had to keep living, fighting everyday just to get out of bed- I had to relearn how to live without my little girl.
It's happened before...
She cut me out of the picture.
Then Easter Sunday of this year, I was invited over for dinner. Skye is playing on the trampoline, and I scroll through instagram. I don't feel good, or wanted, around my mom, but it's Easter, so I put a smile on the best I could, until I see a picture she posted of everyone in my family, but me, with a caption: "I love my family". Again, my mom has never said I love you to me, and here she uses those words for everyone else.
I couldn't hold back the tears- I've never cried so hard. I left and walked home.
She hasn't said a word about it, and neither have I. It's a truth I don't want to hear from the woman who gave me life.
I can't feel whole around her..
she is the bullet, and I need to heal.
