The Idea of Asking My Mother


I.e. Energies in Motion

Whirling around watering up the wells of my eyes.

Easter is this weekend. And, I just called my Mother to ask for support. A heart breaking endeavor so painful, the back breaking efforts of being a camper travelling by train is almost easier to endure.

Glass jars of healthy homemade goods weighs heavy on my back. While the constant rejection from my Mother weighs heavy on my heart.

Why did I even think of calling just now? Because I like to be shot down! My resilience is one of the finer qualities that I carry. Surely refined by living with a person who said “No” all the time.

Not, no I will not play you. That was always a maybe whose time to arrive is still waiting.

No to anything that required her to go out of her way. No to teaching me how to drive. No to ever actually spending time together that involved going anywhere.

No. No. No. It’s outside of my comfort zone. Yet I am without the words to speak that truth, so for as long as you know me I shall remain sitting here twiddling my thumbs, cracking cans, lighting smokes, pretending to be amused.

Acting busy. Constantly strained. Demanding help never asking.

Constantly judging. Never really loving.

Fear has had my Mother by the shirt collar since before I was a toddler.

Today, I hate people who are close to their Mom’s. I despise them. Get angry at them & wish that they weren’t my Friend.

I too suck at simply asking. For help when it’s needed. Strangely, I fear rejection above almost all other things. Which is weird considering how much of it I have already endured.

This week, I have a lot on my plate. My Mother, sits at home on Spring Break. While the thought of being let down again is making me cry. I am so upset at how this woman’s downfalls have come to shape my life.



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