Wednesday, January 27, 2021

My Mother’s Daughters

 Are 3 very different versions of train wrecks. 

Her oldest is a divorced single mom who keeps finding men who want to be taken care of instead of doing the taking care of and ends up bleeding herself dry trying to take care of everyone around her, even at the cost of her own well-being. She doesn’t know how to take a break, mainly because every time she relaxes another thing falls apart and she has to race around and exhaust herself to keep everything in some semblance of order. 

Her middle is a self centered, cruel person who has spent her entire life using her many disabilities as excuses and crutches for being plain awful to people. She is completely dependent on her mother, and multiple different agencies, always talking about how independent she is, while never once having actually been independent in her entire life.

Her youngest is a single mother of 4, also divorced, but not to either fathers of her children. Mostly raised by the oldest sister, her experiences of the world were very discolored and slanted. All she has ever wanted is a happy home with someone to build a family with. She also finds herself in relationships with people who want to be taken care of, but unlike the oldest, she has enough hope in the world to believe their pretty lies. 

And how did we all become such flawed humans? Was it the various forms of abuse and torture we went through as children? Or the fact that our mother cared more about making sure she looked good to outside forces than about our actual wellbeing? Or how about the fact that she straight up gave up on us for most of our childhoods?

I don’t really know why, and at this point, I’m not even really sure I care anymore. All I know is that I am sick and tired of constantly being dragged into my past and expected to clean up the mess other people are making. I have done all the things you’re supposed to do to not have your past define your future, but here I am again, buried neck deep in the mistakes of the people I love, working to unbury us all.

It’s what I do. We all have roles to play in each other’s lives, and mine is the fixer. Minus the cool mob outfits. With as often as I have a headache, I should def get cool outfits. Or at least, the apocalypse of 2020 (now 2021) should end so I can take a real vacation. Mhm. That’s what I need. One where no catastrophes are waiting for me when I get back.

Please and thank you?

A Little Blasphemy as a Literal (and Figurative) Sign of Progress

 Hello there, it’s been a while, and in true returning from ghosting fashion, I am here to either share something vapid and meaningless, or ...