Mom is dead for 15 days now. Since she was found on her bathroom floor covered in blood and vomit due to the side effects of chemotherapy, I have been on a roller coaster of upsetting emotions.
Don't get me wrong, that she is dead is the least of my grief. She had NO ability to bond or attach with children and the long suffering I endured with that woman is over now *HUGE relief*. But there is still stuff. Stuff I am left to work through with no chance of her ever hearing me.
I just wanted her to hear me.
In addition to so much grief I have to live with, the one thing that I'm going to have to learn to accept (screaming and fighting withing my own mind all the way) is that now she can NEVER tell me that she believes me. There is no hope for that. That her second husband used me as a second wife in his drunken states while I was in puberty isn't on my mind so much. FUCK HIM! The stinking pervert doesn't take up but one ounce of my mind. I let him go years ago and he can just stay way back there thank you very much.
There are some things I cannot let go of (yet) though.
I mean COME ON! To tell your own mom what you went through at the hands of her man only to be kicked in the ass and out of her heart completely is much, much more than I could ever bear. Even still. And I am 50 and she is dead and all hope I ever hung onto that she would come to me and say she hears me and loves me and admonishes him is impossible now.
Don't tell me to suck it up buttercup. I'm not that strong.
These feelings are real and raw. I used to (up to two weeks ago) wish that when a television show came on regarding childhood sexual abuse that mom would be sitting there watching the t.v. program and suddenly have the instant awareness that I am not a liar afterall. Dr. Phil, Oprah, and all the rest of them shows were all talking about me when airing sexual abuse stories; and I sat and dreamed that at that exact moment mom was also watching the program, and realizing the Truth. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh it was better than an orgasm to think she was finally believing me.
What do I do with these fantasies of her understanding now?
Letting go is what is going to have to eventually happen for me in order to move on, I'm not that stupid. But it's hard.
You know?
