So I have been thinking about blogging about this for a LONG LONG time, but it is so raw I didn't know if I could. Then, I saw this on the Post Secret blog and I thought it is finally time.
My mom was my best friend. She was the mom all the other kids loved and wished their moms were like. She was cool and loved to laugh and have fun. She was mischievous and understood a kids need to be a rebel and she gave me just enough rope to hang myself. She loved me as much as any mother has ever loved her child. She was always on my side, my rock filled with unconditional love and adoration.
Now, she was not perfect. By any means. She had a temper and treated my dad like a second rate citizen. There was constant screaming in my home (not all her fault). She tried everything she could to not grow up. So sometimes, she was too much friend not enough mom. She needed constant attention, especially from men. So sometimes, I faded behind her spotlight.
Regardless of her faults, I admired her. she was smart. She had no education beyond high school yet she managed to become management at any job she took within months. She was strong and taught me to be independent and equal to any man. She stood her ground yet was generous to a fault.
BUT, she was/is morbidly obese. I never cared about this until about 10 years ago. She was diagnosed with diabetes. She was fine for a few years. Then the diabetes lead to Neuropathy, which means she has trouble feeling her hands and feet. She slowly starting taking more and more prescriptions until now where she is on 36 different medications. They do not help. She stays home all day, is on medical disability and is a virtual recluse. Due to the high number of medications she takes, she is no longer the same person. She doesn't have the clarity of mind she used to. It is similar to watching someone slip into Alzheimer's. She has good days and bad days. On her good days, she makes some sense, but on her bad days she is like a small child that you have to explain things to several times and slowly with simple words. She has lost her sense of humor completely, primarily because her brain isn't fast enough to understand jokes.
I am 30 years old and I no longer have a mother. She is alive. I can see her and touch her, but I don't know her. She spends all her days watching trash TV and napping. We have nothing to talk about and she does not indicate any concern over my life.
I call her to check on her when she has Dr appointments and to encourage her to get out of the house, but she never reciprocates. She doesn't ask how I am and if I try to tell her, she talks over me about the latest piece of crap she bought from the shopping channel. I don't know her and i don't like her. I love her until it hurts and i miss who she used to be.
This leads me to the Post Secret. When I saw this, I knew it was time to write. My mom and her condition is the main reason I had RNY surgery. My whole life, my self worth has been wrapped up in my intellect. If I were to follow in her foot steps, I would be worthless. I could not have that. So now I am on a journey to not be her. Every day, every time we talk, I think about it. I am scared of it. But I will beat it. I will not be her. I am Amber Jean, I am my own person, not a carbon imprint of my mother. I learned from her strength and have become stronger.
Thank you mom. I love you. I am sorry.