mom

I think my mother was a poor soul. She was a woman who had 7 kids and never seemed happy. I was the last of the brood and she was tired when I came. She slept through most of my adolescence. I remember her dark bedroom and trying really hard not to bother or wake her. The parents I knew were very different than the ones my brothers and sisters grew up with.

My dad was always gone. I didn't really start seeing him on a regular basis until I was 13 or 14. Prior to that he was traveling, trying to peddle his wares. Everything from freezers to coffee. My mom said he was great at selling, so great they would promote him to management and he would fail miserably. I never experienced my dads success. I lived through the days of no food in the cupboard, threats of losing utilities and where's the rent. I remember my mom struggling all the time, alone. She slept to escape real life.

When she wasn't sleeping she was angry. She was overwhelmed with life and struggled to keep afloat. She appeared to love my dad, I think I know that more now than I did when they were alive. I can read the love in their letters they they faithfully sent to each other while my dad was gone. My mother kept those letters and I have them now. I have a lot of their words.

They were very protective of each other. They didn't want to stress or hurt each others feelings. Not in their written words, they were always positive and upbeat except for the times when my dad accused my mom of being too close to a male friend or my mom would suggest is was time for them to separate. They never did and I'm not sure about my mom and her "friend". I wonder of my dads concerns of my mothers faithfulness had something to do with his possible wandering on the road. Neither do I know for sure, I'm just wondering.

She would yell when he was at home, she could be very cruel. My dad would leave, he would leave to work he said. And he would stay away for as long as he could, and she would sleep until he came back.

I was so lost, I was so alone in  that damn family. I find myself doing things my mother did. The anger, the escapes, I used drugs, alcohol and sex when I was younger. I have no patience, no time no energy for my family. The difference between my mom and me is I left. I left my family before I could do the damage to them that she did to me.

Now I am alone, and I try to sleep to not have to deal with my life. My hell is I can't sleep without the help of little white pills. They help me to shut down my brain. I am totally fucked up financially wise. I grew up with nothing, nothing but the stress of parents who couldn't pay the bills. 

My kids were never going to know that stress and I would never deny myself what I wanted, when I wanted it. And I didn't, right up to this point. That's something I'm not ready to come to terms with. I just want to sleep, if I'm lucky one day I won't wake up. I think that's what my mom wished for many times.

Some days I look in the mirror and I see her. I see her staring back at me wondering what the hell I have done with my life. How could I have allowed myself to get in this position? How could I have ever left my children? She would have never done that, she never did. Not physically, but mentally she was never there. Isn't that the same thing?