(no subject)
I want something else.
To get me through this.
Semi-charmed kinda life.
Baby.
In a semi-ironic twist, my ex-[no exaggerations: her whole post-childhood life]suicidal mother who has, quite recently, become quite content with living, is now dying. Like actually has a 7cm tumor in (on?) her lung, dying, not: "we're all dying," dying.
I just. Feel so fucking bad for her. She was always feeling sorry herself when I was a kid, and my dad would always discredit her, like things were never as bad as she made them out to be. But, it was never just one thing; it was compound things. Negative synergy. While I 'understood' this back then, I never actually saw it. Now I do. Looking back, every action she has taken in an attempt to find happiness, has resulted in something shitty happening; she actually cannot get a break.
And how does this affect me? I told her I'd come home while she was going through treatment. (Treatment which I don't necessarily agree with, but it's not like there's a million options here.) So I get to escape this fucking job, and this city during tourist season, and be with my mom for like a month or however long. And then I get to pay a bunch of money for stuff I'm not using, and I get to come back totally broke... I think I may have to get a part time job in Winnipeg while I'm there. Or. Like. I don't know. Find a way to sell my photos. Totally go paparazzi on Rob Lowe.. is he still in town? Do people care about him? Whatever. I need to figure something out money-wise. And I need to find a cheap way to get to Winnipeg and back that doesn't involve spending a day and a half on a bus.
I'm terrified of losing my 'happy' mother. It's weird, there was a point in my life when I had come to terms with her death. I felt really guilty about it, but I was so sure I was going to walk into her apartment and find her dead on any given day; it reached a point where I couldn't deal with the stress anymore. I had to come to terms with the fact that it was most likely going to happen, and there was nothing I could do about it. It hurt. A lot. But you can't help a person that's not willing to help themselves.
But now I'm back to, I don't know what I'd do if she died.
I really don't want to go through this again.
To get me through this.
Semi-charmed kinda life.
Baby.
In a semi-ironic twist, my ex-[no exaggerations: her whole post-childhood life]suicidal mother who has, quite recently, become quite content with living, is now dying. Like actually has a 7cm tumor in (on?) her lung, dying, not: "we're all dying," dying.
I just. Feel so fucking bad for her. She was always feeling sorry herself when I was a kid, and my dad would always discredit her, like things were never as bad as she made them out to be. But, it was never just one thing; it was compound things. Negative synergy. While I 'understood' this back then, I never actually saw it. Now I do. Looking back, every action she has taken in an attempt to find happiness, has resulted in something shitty happening; she actually cannot get a break.
And how does this affect me? I told her I'd come home while she was going through treatment. (Treatment which I don't necessarily agree with, but it's not like there's a million options here.) So I get to escape this fucking job, and this city during tourist season, and be with my mom for like a month or however long. And then I get to pay a bunch of money for stuff I'm not using, and I get to come back totally broke... I think I may have to get a part time job in Winnipeg while I'm there. Or. Like. I don't know. Find a way to sell my photos. Totally go paparazzi on Rob Lowe.. is he still in town? Do people care about him? Whatever. I need to figure something out money-wise. And I need to find a cheap way to get to Winnipeg and back that doesn't involve spending a day and a half on a bus.
I'm terrified of losing my 'happy' mother. It's weird, there was a point in my life when I had come to terms with her death. I felt really guilty about it, but I was so sure I was going to walk into her apartment and find her dead on any given day; it reached a point where I couldn't deal with the stress anymore. I had to come to terms with the fact that it was most likely going to happen, and there was nothing I could do about it. It hurt. A lot. But you can't help a person that's not willing to help themselves.
But now I'm back to, I don't know what I'd do if she died.
I really don't want to go through this again.