It’s Mother’s Day again

 My mum was not a very good mother. 

She didn’t really even try. She was more interested in saving the world. She was a feminist and kept me away from my father. She made me care for my baby sister so she could drink. 

I was basically an orphan. I still love her and I treated her as well as possible. I never yelled or swore at her, I always called her on Mother’s Day (it was also her birthday) and I would invite her for dinner when she was in town. There were many times that I would save her from terrible situations. I moved near the hospital but she was in after she was in a car accident. I did everything I could to be a good daughter even though she was not a good mother. I was the only one who helped her in need. My younger sister didn’t care and my older sister hated her, but I didn’t. As an adult I learned to appreciate her.

But she never really helped me. She never took me to a doctor, or dentist. She never supported me through school or paid my rent or found me a house to live in or helped me move or bought me food or babysat for me or taught me how to drive. She never rescued me, or defended me, or protected me from pedophiles, or abusers. When I moved out at 14, she found a husband, left town with my sister, and didn’t speak to me for 6 years.

She didn’t do much for me.

I was not the best mother, that’s for sure. So when they became adults, I decided I would make it up to my children. I got Adam help as best I could and saw him every day, paid for food and clothes, and kept him as happy as I could. Sola was a junkie and I saved her from homelessness, paid her rent, supported her through rehab, nearly went to jail a few times defending her. I helped pay for her school, helped her find a co-op, and paid the co-op share. I moved her many, many, many times. I taught her how to drive, supported her through divorce, took care of her little baby and was there when he was born, I did everything I could to make up for being a lousy mother when she was little.

and yet it feels like my family thinks I’m just a terrible person who deserves nothing. 

I’m heartbroken.

Now my beautiful son is in heaven and my daughter is busy. I’ll get to babysit next week if I’m lucky. Meanwhile, I’ll eat an onion, since that’s all I have; I’m broke and broken. 

And so here I am alone crying sad and I feel like I should just disappear. I’ve never been so desperate. My family hates me, I can’t find work, and it’s difficult to sell my Art. Because I’ve changed my political views, I have lost friends, regardless of our history, because nowadays, if you don’t agree, you’re shunned.

I’m a complete failure. Everything I do is worthless. Try as I might, there’s nothing I can do.

I wish I were dead. There’s nothing for me here.

I’m sure I will not be missed.

And I don’t care if I sound like a whiner. I’ve never asked for much, I never ask for help, I’ve been a survivor, but I’m depleted. 

Therapy doesn’t bring Adam back  

Church doesn’t fill my belly 

Meditation doesn’t pay the rent 

Yoga won’t heal my heart 

Booze puts things on hold.

I finally asked for help with Adam’s taxes, but it didn’t go well. Guess I didn’t ask properly or maybe I don’t deserve any help, or both. 

I won’t be asking for anything, anymore. Though I’ve never received support, inheritance, guidance, advice, or status from my parents, I have white privilege, and deserve nothing.

I expect nothing except death. I’m just not sure if it’ll be a slow starvation death, or a quick accidental death. 

Meanwhile, I’ll stay alive as best I can