(no subject)
I'm sitting on the thirteenth floor lounge in a semi food coma. I deleted my myspace for no reason in particular and now I am wishing I could have it so I could write there. I am stupid, and I deleted important blogs about my time in florida over the summer and other sentimental pieces of writing. The other day I almost deleted my livejournal until I realized that on january 22nd, 2006, I wrote a sweet little paragraph about an old italian man in a wheelchair, and that was the day I got saved.
I just ate some thai food with peanuts in it and I am not dying.
Tomorrow we find out if my mom has cancer. I am told it is a fifty percent chance. I am sitting on the thirteenth floor lounge pretending to be alright. I don't like to be around my mom, I don't like to live in the same house as her. But when I think of Colombia I miss her more than anything I have ever missed in my life. I miss the person my mom was before life broke her, before I even existed. I wish my mom could reconcile her thoughts and her heart with her mother and not feel responsible for her death, so I wont have to carry it on my shoulders. I wish my mom could just go back to Colombia and stay there and be a child again so she could un-learn how to put walls up in her heart.
We don't even know if it is cancer or not, but my mom is already asking me to take care of my full-grown brothers when she dies. They are 18 and 25 but I feel responsible anyways, because in my family the women take care of everyone. She takes care of people so much that they forget how to take care of themselves. These past few days I have been realizing how angry I actually am at her for all the confusion in my early life. For all the insecurities and for all the times things weren't good enough and for all the ways that she hated herself and everyone could feel it. Those who cause their own suffering enjoy when others suffer with them, and that was the center of my family life until I got saved. Now, I don't want to go see her, I don't want to take care of all the things she convinces herself she has had to take care of. I don't want to have to be the strongest person for everyone because my mom doesn't know what she's living for. This pain hurts.
I just ate some thai food with peanuts in it and I am not dying.
Tomorrow we find out if my mom has cancer. I am told it is a fifty percent chance. I am sitting on the thirteenth floor lounge pretending to be alright. I don't like to be around my mom, I don't like to live in the same house as her. But when I think of Colombia I miss her more than anything I have ever missed in my life. I miss the person my mom was before life broke her, before I even existed. I wish my mom could reconcile her thoughts and her heart with her mother and not feel responsible for her death, so I wont have to carry it on my shoulders. I wish my mom could just go back to Colombia and stay there and be a child again so she could un-learn how to put walls up in her heart.
We don't even know if it is cancer or not, but my mom is already asking me to take care of my full-grown brothers when she dies. They are 18 and 25 but I feel responsible anyways, because in my family the women take care of everyone. She takes care of people so much that they forget how to take care of themselves. These past few days I have been realizing how angry I actually am at her for all the confusion in my early life. For all the insecurities and for all the times things weren't good enough and for all the ways that she hated herself and everyone could feel it. Those who cause their own suffering enjoy when others suffer with them, and that was the center of my family life until I got saved. Now, I don't want to go see her, I don't want to take care of all the things she convinces herself she has had to take care of. I don't want to have to be the strongest person for everyone because my mom doesn't know what she's living for. This pain hurts.