To MY Mother

(Originally posted at Wordpress on 10/15/07)

I want to scream, I want to swear, I want to tell you off and wear you down and make you feel every bit as horrible as I have been feeling for the last 10 - no, make that 34 years.

I wish I could call or write you up and ask you, just why are you doing this? You have two beautiful grandchildren who have lived their entire lives without a grandmother. You have pissed away an entire decade with your childish game, running and hiding when you should have been acting like the adult you should be. You have spent the last ten years belittling your own daughter's raw and broken emotions simply because you refuse to look past your own situation and see what is looking you right in the face.

I try to get angry, I try to scream into the air at you, to shout into the emptiness, but nothing comes. I can't get there. I can not get to the point where the hurt turns to anger and this betrayal finally takes its toll. I continue to allow you to do this to me, I lay my heart out on your doorstep and you wipe your feet on it with your stony silence.

Am I really that insignificant to you? Is it this easy for you to go on ignoring me for so long?

Maybe I need to accept the fact that some mothers really just do not love their children. Perhaps it's not anger that I need to be searching for, but acceptance. But what do I do with this love that's in my heart? Where does it go? I have no place to put it, if you won't accept it. It just sits there, growing heavy, wearing at my chest like the branches of an apple tree with too many apples. The branch is breaking from all the weight, twisting, splintering, tearing away from the trunk.

I wish I could just hate you and walk away from this. I wish I could forget you and never have to deal with this again. Do you even think of me? God I feel like I did when I was a little kid again, having to wonder who you were and if you thought of me, that feeling SUCKED, yet here I am, I know who you are now and I STILL have to wonder. Does she think of me? Does she care? Do you know how horrible it is to wonder if your own mother even thinks of you?

But I'm an adoptee. So I keep on pleasing, keep on fixing, I can't walk away, I have to stay here and try to fix you, try to be the good little girl and make you happy, always the good girl who will never let anyone down. Happy happy adoptee, the band-aid of humanity. FUCK.

I hate this. I really, really hate this. Look what you did to me, what you are STILL doing to me, why can't you just talk to me? Being the strong one sucks ass, you know? People say, oh you're so strong, like it's all admirable and stuff, but you know what? I HATE it. I just want for once in my life, just ONCE, to be comforted, to be held, to be told that everything is going to be ok.