(no subject)
Looking at this weeks post secrets make me think a lot about my mom.
I could think of so much to say regarding my mom.
She's an amazing mom, I will never deny that.
But, it's sad that I feel like she's going to kill herself eventually.
She takes Ridiculous amounts of medication daily. Medication she doesn't need.
She is so messed up, she actually believes that she has pain and that she needs these drugs to go on in her every day life.
Although she's already overdosed.
Although she goes to two different doctors and gets the same medication so that she can take double the dose, and she pays one in cash and one with insurance so she can't get caught.
Shouldn't there be a list somewhere showing all of the people who have had drug problems in the past, so that they can't receive the medication they overdosed on?
Fucking quack doctors. Make me fucking sick.
They are allowing my mother and my father to kill themselves.
Just to make some money off of them.
pathetic.
I hate that i'm so mean to my mom sometimes. She really does so much for me.
But I can't help but remember everything she's put me through the last 10 years of my life.
She used to drop me off at the mall or at shows, and tell me she'd be back at the designated time. And then she wouldn't show back up. She would leave me to fend for myself, I remember one time when I couldn't get a hold of anyone until 3 AM, locked outside the Rayford road community center. And the night before my uncle Roberts accident, they were supposed to see each other. She decided to go on a drug binge instead, and was coming down the entire next day. She got the call that he was dying. I think part of her died too. She's never been the same since then. I don't know how anyone could be, after losing their best friend and brother. I admire her for taking him home with us and devoting her life to take care of him. But she always made it seem like we owed her something for doing all of that. She chose to do that. She complains how she lost two years of her life. I think she did it because she felt guilty.
I remember the night she overdosed. She came home at 2 AM. I was in high school, and the nights she wouldn't come home I would lay awake in bed praying she would make it home safely. I begged God to make her change and help her and it never happened. She came in, obviously more fucked up than usual. She couldn't even speak. I didn't get up when I heard her come in as I could hear everything that was going on in the next room. She went in their bedroom and was mumbling to my dad. She told him that she needed to go to the hospital, and he told her to call an ambulance and go back to sleep. She then leaves the bedroom and walks toward the front door, I jump out of bed to see if she's okay. She stops at the doorway when she sees me and I ask her if she's okay. She says she's fine, she just needs to leave. I let her leave. I don't know why. Everyone always asks me this. Maybe I was oblivious. Maybe I was scared. Maybe I still trusted her then to do the right thing and lead me in the right direction. Well, 2 miles from our house she apparently passed out at the wheel. And guess who came to her rescue? Of course, My uncle Robert. He would do anything for her. He would get her out of a bind if it meant risking his own life. He was a wrecker driver so he also was able to keep her ass from going to jail. She had overdosed on a toxic amount of cocaine, Vicodin, Xanax, Soma, Oxycontin, and Tylenol. Yeah, fucking Tylenol. Seriously. My uncle Robert never gave up on her. He knew the person that was there before the medication. And I used to. But I can't even remember that person anymore. He wouldn't want me to give up on her. He always believed in her. I miss him. I should try to believe in her more. But most of the time she doesn't even know what's going on. I miss my mom. Before the accident and before she was introduced to drugs. That was a woman to be admired.
And mother's day also reminds me of this.
I wonder what it would have been like.
And if I would have been happy.
I doubt it.
But still.
Mikah just had her baby.
And he is the most perfect person I have ever seen.
And she loves him so much.
You can see it in her eyes.
I wonder if I would have felt the same.
I wonder what it would have looked like.
I have a good life and I made a good decision for me.
But I can't help but think of that person that could have been.
Which one of us it would have favored more.
If it would have been like me. Or like Ross.
I think my mind blocks out the bad things that happen.
So I can move on and have a bad ass life.
But I will never forget that day.
Or the proceeding weeks.
Or how my body tortured me for weeks because tissue was still left in my uterus and I had no idea. I thought it was normal.I could have died from it. And I had to have an immediate D&C.
And the sound of the death machine, and how they showed me the ultra sound and told me how old the baby was. And the look on my moms face. And the tears I had to fight back because I knew it was the right thing to do. But it felt so horrible and so wrong.
I've learned from my mistakes.
Forgetting isn't the hard part.
It's forgiving myself that takes so much energy out of me.
Wow I'm really pathetic.
No wonder why I stopped writing in this thing.
I complain too much.
I could think of so much to say regarding my mom.
She's an amazing mom, I will never deny that.
But, it's sad that I feel like she's going to kill herself eventually.
She takes Ridiculous amounts of medication daily. Medication she doesn't need.
She is so messed up, she actually believes that she has pain and that she needs these drugs to go on in her every day life.
Although she's already overdosed.
Although she goes to two different doctors and gets the same medication so that she can take double the dose, and she pays one in cash and one with insurance so she can't get caught.
Shouldn't there be a list somewhere showing all of the people who have had drug problems in the past, so that they can't receive the medication they overdosed on?
Fucking quack doctors. Make me fucking sick.
They are allowing my mother and my father to kill themselves.
Just to make some money off of them.
pathetic.
I hate that i'm so mean to my mom sometimes. She really does so much for me.
But I can't help but remember everything she's put me through the last 10 years of my life.
She used to drop me off at the mall or at shows, and tell me she'd be back at the designated time. And then she wouldn't show back up. She would leave me to fend for myself, I remember one time when I couldn't get a hold of anyone until 3 AM, locked outside the Rayford road community center. And the night before my uncle Roberts accident, they were supposed to see each other. She decided to go on a drug binge instead, and was coming down the entire next day. She got the call that he was dying. I think part of her died too. She's never been the same since then. I don't know how anyone could be, after losing their best friend and brother. I admire her for taking him home with us and devoting her life to take care of him. But she always made it seem like we owed her something for doing all of that. She chose to do that. She complains how she lost two years of her life. I think she did it because she felt guilty.
I remember the night she overdosed. She came home at 2 AM. I was in high school, and the nights she wouldn't come home I would lay awake in bed praying she would make it home safely. I begged God to make her change and help her and it never happened. She came in, obviously more fucked up than usual. She couldn't even speak. I didn't get up when I heard her come in as I could hear everything that was going on in the next room. She went in their bedroom and was mumbling to my dad. She told him that she needed to go to the hospital, and he told her to call an ambulance and go back to sleep. She then leaves the bedroom and walks toward the front door, I jump out of bed to see if she's okay. She stops at the doorway when she sees me and I ask her if she's okay. She says she's fine, she just needs to leave. I let her leave. I don't know why. Everyone always asks me this. Maybe I was oblivious. Maybe I was scared. Maybe I still trusted her then to do the right thing and lead me in the right direction. Well, 2 miles from our house she apparently passed out at the wheel. And guess who came to her rescue? Of course, My uncle Robert. He would do anything for her. He would get her out of a bind if it meant risking his own life. He was a wrecker driver so he also was able to keep her ass from going to jail. She had overdosed on a toxic amount of cocaine, Vicodin, Xanax, Soma, Oxycontin, and Tylenol. Yeah, fucking Tylenol. Seriously. My uncle Robert never gave up on her. He knew the person that was there before the medication. And I used to. But I can't even remember that person anymore. He wouldn't want me to give up on her. He always believed in her. I miss him. I should try to believe in her more. But most of the time she doesn't even know what's going on. I miss my mom. Before the accident and before she was introduced to drugs. That was a woman to be admired.
And mother's day also reminds me of this.
I wonder what it would have been like.
And if I would have been happy.
I doubt it.
But still.
Mikah just had her baby.
And he is the most perfect person I have ever seen.
And she loves him so much.
You can see it in her eyes.
I wonder if I would have felt the same.
I wonder what it would have looked like.
I have a good life and I made a good decision for me.
But I can't help but think of that person that could have been.
Which one of us it would have favored more.
If it would have been like me. Or like Ross.
I think my mind blocks out the bad things that happen.
So I can move on and have a bad ass life.
But I will never forget that day.
Or the proceeding weeks.
Or how my body tortured me for weeks because tissue was still left in my uterus and I had no idea. I thought it was normal.I could have died from it. And I had to have an immediate D&C.
And the sound of the death machine, and how they showed me the ultra sound and told me how old the baby was. And the look on my moms face. And the tears I had to fight back because I knew it was the right thing to do. But it felt so horrible and so wrong.
I've learned from my mistakes.
Forgetting isn't the hard part.
It's forgiving myself that takes so much energy out of me.
Wow I'm really pathetic.
No wonder why I stopped writing in this thing.
I complain too much.