They say time heals all wounds..
... I am having a hard time believing that time heals all wounds, at least in this situation.

I may seem dramatic, petty, or immature. Some may think I over analyze every situation, just to find the bad in something. But honestly, in this situation, I don't have to look for the negative. It seems to present itself just fine. I didn't ask to be part of this. I didn't ask for an alcohol dependent mother, who uses her addictions to alcohol, cigarettes, weed, and sex, as excuses for how she "copes" with her miserable life. I didn't ask for a mother who chooses favorites when it comes to not only her children, but her grandchildren. Or a mother who stops talking to me when I mention her coming to visit me and my daughter at my house. A mother who blames everyone but herself for her miserable life.

Whether she realizes it or not, she treats me like shit. Like a mistake she'd rather sweep under the rug. I know she loves me, and that she does care, but she has a shitty way of showing it to me.

For years I blamed myself, lost sleep, shed way too many tears, and worried way too much. Blamed myself for her addiction. Even though I now know it wasn't my fault. Never was. Never will be. I lost sleep waiting up at night, constantly looking out my bedroom window just to make sure she made it home safe from the bar. Shed way too many tears because that is the only way I knew how to deal with the stress I put myself under worrying about her. And I worried way too much wondering where she was, or who she was with, or when she'd finally make it home. Those are not things a teenager should have to deal with or worry about.

I saw a different guy after another come into my home, and leave. There were only a couple that stuck around. When she was on again with Jim, the guys weren't so frequent. In fact, they had even stopped... 'til Joe came along. Then for awhile it was just Joe, then it was Joe and Jim, and then it was just Jim. And unfortunately, it was just Jim for awhile. She didn't come to school functions because she had to go to the BAR to watch him perform in his BAND. Seriously? You ditched your daughters school function, something that you can't get back, to watch your alcoholic boyfriend pretend to be a rockstar? Fucking perfect. Sadly, that was the story of my life through high school. In fact, I remember begging her to come to a spring concert, and I even tried to bribe her. Didn't work. Her response was, "Why do I have to go? I've already heard you guys play." That was also her same response to me asking her to go to band competitions, or home football games to watch the halftime shows. Except she'd throw in, "I can sit on the porch and listen to you guys play. And I don't even have to get out of my pj's and I can smoke and drink my beer." Again, seriously?

I knew disappointment all too well.

I am very grateful for my dad. He missed 1 volleyball game (because he was called into work), and missed one, maybe 2 band performances. He didn't care if it was all the same. He wasn't there for the music, or the sport. He was there to support ME, his daughter. Who he loves unconditionally. It wasn't because I was daddy's little girl, or because I begged and pleaded for him to go. I will admit, that him and I do not have the most perfect relationship. It's almost awkward, and he was way too easy on me. I could have gotten away with murder, and I'd still be an angel in his eyes.

Anyway, back to the point.

After graduation, I was extremely unhappy. But I was too scared to do anything about it. I didn't know how to change my life for ME. I was still being controlled by my mother. I was constantly fighting with Jim. And after having anxiety attacks after fights we would have, I knew something had to change. In the meantime, I got mixed up with a guy I met at work. He was 17 years older than me. Not attractive, but he showed interest in me. He said all the right things, and I thought I was in love. When I was with him, I didn't think about my mom, Jim, or any of that mess. Even though that relationship wasn't healthy on so many levels, and he controlled me, he gave me the strength and courage to stand up for myself. I needed to do something, not in a couple of days, weeks or months, but right NOW. While I was at his house one day, I was bombarded by phone calls by my mother, telling me I HAD to get home right NOW, and do dishes before she got home from work, I had to earn my keep. Even though I had not been home in close to a week. On the way home, I made arrangements to move out... 2 days later. I was excited for this change in my life. I didn't want to hurt my moms feelings, so I sent her an e-mail. Telling her that I was done fighting, and I wasn't going to make her choose between Jim or I. I had made that decision for her, because I already knew what her decision was going to be. I was done being hurt, disappointed, and being shoved out of my own house by someone I would NEVER consider family. And I needed a different environment. One where I felt safe, and had called home for the last couple of years, even though I didn't live there. She hadn't said anything to me about the e-mail, so I sent it again, and she still hadn't responded, so I printed it, put it in an envelope, and put it on the shelf in the bathroom before I left for work. I wanted to make sure she had gotten it. She was furious. She tried to talk me out of moving. But I wasn't going to change my mind. She called me on my cell phone, from the house phone, WHEN WE WERE IN THE SAME HOUSE, begging me to stay. She told me she was going to kick Jim out so I would stay. I knew that if I had told her I would stay, she wouldn't make him leave. She'd just tell me things would be different. Needless to say, after work the next morning, I came home to load up all my things, and she was still there. She packed the majority of Jim's things, and was kicking him out. But, I was still not going to change my mind. I didn't just need him out of the house. I needed him out of our lives, if I wanted any kind of relationship with my mom. Or so I thought. Since then, things have only worsened.

She REFUSES to come to my house. She's ALWAYS asking me to come to her house. When I tell her I am busy, she stops talking to me. When I mention her coming to my house, she doesn't respond, and won't talk to me until she asks me to come over again.

I am sick and tired of being the only one to make the effort. She has been to my house so many times that I can count them on 1 hand. I haven't lived with her in 5 and a half years.

Onto what hurts the most..

March 7, 2010.. A day that was one of the happiest days of my life. I found out I was pregnant. I was happy to tell my sister, my dad, and my brother. I knew I would get judgement from my brother, and I knew my sister would ask a million questions. Face it, thats her nature. She's extremely inquisitive. I was scared to tell my mom, and I had every right to be scared. If it weren't for my sister, I probably wouldn't have told her at all. I would have just let her figure it out, or hear it from someone else. Would have been easier that way. Instead, I heard every ounce of disappointment, and judgement she had to offer. There is nothing worse than telling your mother you are pregnant, and getting a giant sigh of disappointment followed by a hesitated "I still love you." Never in my life, have I felt so hurt, or betrayed in my life. I felt like my heart had just been ripped from my chest.

I'd be lying if that was the end of it..

A couple days after her processing the thought of me creating life, and being a mother, she decides to call me. And tell me that she's worried about me, and that I should have been using protection, so that I didn't have an unplanned child. Wait, it gets better.. She follows that up with, "I just have this feeling that Mike is going to leave you, or force you into an abortion." Are you fucking kidding me? Right then, I lost all hope that she'd ever come to terms with me being a mother, and be happy with me.

Unfortunately, she continues to bombard me with hurt..

By the end of that week, my sister announces she is pregnant. And my mother was so unbelievably happy for my sister and her husband. She couldn't wait to tell the world. And she did a great job of telling everyone she was so excited to have 2 grandbabies at the same time. She had so much excitement for my sister, that she let it overflow in to excitement for me, when really she still had judgement.

It was going great for awhile..

She showed up at the hospital when I was about to deliver. I didn't want her in the room, and she knew it. I knew that she was going to start in on me the moment she got there.. And I should have placed bets on Facebook, because I'd be fucking LOADED! As soon as she walked in the room, she started nagging me telling me I was going to hyperventilate if I didn't calm down. Really? I thought I was doing just fine for being in LABOR for the first time in my entire life. She only stayed at the hospital for maybe 2 hours after Reagan was born.

And she continues to find ways to hurt me, and get under my skin..

I sent her a picture text of Reagan. I was hoping for a response, at least saying "give her kisses from Grandma. Tell her I love her." But I got NOTHING. A day later, and still NOTHING. But she posts two links to 2 pictures of my nephews, that my sister had posted.. I don't even feel disappointed anymore. I feel like she is punishing Reagan for being mad at me. And that is not right at all. I am hurt that she doesn't say anything about Reagan. It's always about her Grandsons. I have always tried to fight for attention over my sister, because she is my moms favorite. I shouldn't have to fight for my daughter to get equal attention as well.

I wish things were different. I worry about what I am going to tell Reagan when she's older and wonders why Grandma doesn't come to visit. I want my daughter to have a Grandma in her life, and my mom is the only one she has. I don't want to lie to my daughter about why her Grandma doesn't come to visit, or make up excuses for her. But I also don't want my daughter to feel an ounce of disappointment from my mom the way she has let me down.

So, I have made a promise to myself, and my daughter. I will be the best mother I can be. I will use my mom as inspiration. I won't miss an important moment in my daughters life, unless there is nothing I can do about it. I will always be there for her, and I will NOT treat her the way I was treated. She is the best thing that has EVER happened to me, and nothing will EVER change that. I am so thankful for every moment I spend with Reagan, and I will cherish every single moment I have with her.

...To be continued...

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