ohans left a comment, and told me a story about some friends of his, and a hellacious mother who backed down after she had been, ‘dealt with’. I started to write a comment, and it swelled into a comment about the reality of how my mother ‘backs down’.
My mother doesn’t back down. She’s tenacious. I think if I ever do pop on her, it’s going to be very ugly. The fact that I do not stoop to her level, is the only thing that actually salvages our relationship in the end. When she is insulting me, and driving at me, coming after me and dropping what I have described as a vituperate invective. I’ve tried to make peace with her a dozen times in the last 24 hours, and each time I am rebuffed with obdurate frgidity.
It’s interesting. Weeks from now, she’ll call me, and it’ll be a whole story. It will be an enquiry into how I am, and what I’m up to. There will be no talk of apology, no talk of anything really related to the whole debacle that was this Christmas holiday.
She will not back down. Even if we become on friendly terms, she will use this whole incident as a needling point for years. She still brings up shit I did when I was ten, fourteen and fifteen. She uses these things as examples in her arguements with me, as evidence of my attempts to destroy her and destroy my family in the process. This is the same family I’ve worked for and made sacrifices for, mind you.
Bah! I have fucking had enough.
I psychic told me once that my mother was bad for me. That she held me back and deprives me for her own benefit. Truth be told, I think my mother is an energy vampire. She sucks so much, because she is empty inside. I don’t tell her so many things because I don’t want to hurt her. However she will use every possible wrong thing I have done, and mistake I have made to coontrol and manipulate me, emotionally blackmail me.
Sometimes, my honesty hurts her. I know. When I speak the truth, like making the comment that set this motherfucker off, she freaks out on me. My brother went into town with her on Monday morning, hours after she got here, and in the course of their conversation, she started to freak out and my brother walked out on her in the bank. He came back, but he fucking walked out.
I have no such luxury this time, although this morning I took off and went down, going anywhere… anywhere but here; if it wasn’t for the chance meeting of one of the guys who works on my team at work, I think I would have ended up far from home and freaking to fuck out. Instead, I cried and the story came out, and he told me to fuck it and the situation, do the right thing he said, do the right thing for you and put distance between you and this.
I felt better, and I came home, where more of the Silent Routine ensued. I survived.
This will never be over, because nothing is ever over for my mother. She’s still the five year old girl, who got her world shattered, and is trying suck in as much as possible and live as vicariously as she can through us, because her own life has been filled with such disappointment and strife.
In every way, I come from this very middle class, ‘proper’ West Indian family. In every way, that family is a faliure at nurturing, because in every way they are living in a lie. My mother is only one example.
I love her still. I love her forever, because she is not a bad person, just a piss poor mother. She knows it. She says it to me, all the time. She knows who she is, and what she has done. I know her well enough to know that that is part of her. I know her history and story too well not to know where the seeds of this began.
I just know I am ending a lot of it. She is tied into a very negative relationship with her own mother, who was a piss poor mother as well, and let me tell you, I simply must escape it and more, not pass this on to my children. I cannot inflict that kind of suffering on my own children. I only want the best for them, to be strong and whole individuals, going into the world to spread my love all over the world. I want my line to continue in growth and light, not in the dark murky powerplays and manipulation that goes on in my mother’s family.
I think that way about my father’s family, but honey, that’s a whole other post. Me doan fuck wit dem people much at all…
So I must continue to work on myself. To bring my life to it’s own place of quiet and soulful contemplation on my failures and triumphs without my mother’s negative impact on my life and the self-fulfilling prophecies she has planted.
My brother came up here and sussed it in one minute. “This is not about you. We have moved on and it’s her that’s losing control.”
He’s so right. She doesn’t understand, but in many ways I pity her. I pity me to, but not enough to throw myself upon my sword for her and this whole fucked up relationship of ours. I am bound to her, and I cannot help her. I have tried. I have tried many times. I am still trying to heal the damage she caused and is still causing, so I am in no position to help her. This is I guess part of life’s tragedy and none of us are immune to this.
Remember babies, what don’t kill your ass, does make you powerful!
The outpouring of good nature and loving words, is enough to make me start crying again. Truly, the people around her have light shining out of their thoughts and words!
The amazing joyfulness that Peter Jackson has created with the end of the LOTR trilogy, (which I saw today and loved to the marrow of my bones) while not completely erasing my moribund state of this morning, has done much to buoy my spirits. No small part was played by the beautiful spirits and energies of the loving people there are around Journalspace, My mother’s ‘vituperate invective’ has become no more than a trial, a tribulation. One that will end at some point, even if it’s a still days away. I will survive. I have this long, and I keep getting stronger.
Blessings and Good Things to all my friends on Journalspace, and may Blessings and Good Things find me and my home as well.