A Mother's Love

May 7, 2012
By , Atkinson, NH
All anybody really needs is their mothers love. Especially me. I've realized in the past few years that my mother has a lot of problems and is not the most loving, caring person in the world. My "real" mother was inside of her somewhere, but as we all do, she got lost in a huge mistake. I am the type of person who can only survive knowing that I'm being cared for. Of course my mother was home, and around every day. But, mentally, she wasn't- well isn't.
My parents are divorced; they have been since I was a tiny little baby. I've always lived with my mother and used to see my father every weekend or more. But, life moved on and we (me and my mother) moved and moved, among various men, my mother had another baby. I was only 10 years old, and thrilled at the time. Being a 10 year old with a normal social life and whatever else normal 10 year olds have, I didn't need to worry. But, just as my mother should've, I should've thought about what life would be like in a mere 2 or 3 years.
Two years after my sister, Emilie, was born, my mother’s second marriage was broken. Luckily at the time I had a few friends who I could talk to and spent almost every weekend with. I wasn't concerned about my mother at all really. Soon though, things changed. We were going to move! I would see my father more often, I'd get new friends, see my other old friends again. How great, right? That's what we thought...
As I look back now I wish we would've stayed for a lot of reasons. Not the same as my mother, though. I can see that towards the end of our life there, my mother’s bad "habits" kicked in.
Now, these "habits" had always been there. I just never knew about it until now. I started to see my mom, no longer as my mom, but as a woman who had lost a lot. Not from her newly ended relationship, but from her childhood. That really can scar people, as I've had to experience it, I know how painful it is. I knew now that my "mother", the caring, artistic, smart, beautiful, happy, and loving, woman was no longer a part in my life.
Who was this person I was left with? Who is she?

Moving. It always meant good change. Or, so I thought.
I was wrong.
We moved and for a while I was super excited. I could re-invent myself. Become this popular girl, with a cool boyfriend and be someone who has their own life, apart from their mothers. Life plays tricks on your mind.
A month before we moved, I was on vacation with my dad and realized moving might not actually be all that great, we were going to move in with my ex-step family for a while before we got our own house.
All my mom could say was "I thought you were excited? Well, too bad. It's too late now."
Gee. Thanks mom.
As soon as we moved everything in my life fell apart. I came to realize more clearly that my mother wasn't an innocent mother whose only last goal was to care for her children. That was way off.
I didn't make friends, and I had to come home every day, after a grueling day of school and babysit an obnoxious spoiled 3 year old. Oh boy, sounds fun! My happiness was no longer real. I felt myself just holding on by a thread, not getting enough sleep and slowly dropping motivation to wake up in the morning and live life.
As an attempt to feel somewhat close to my mother, I did what any little kid would do when they were afraid or lonely. I slept in my mother’s bed, with my 3 year old sister in the middle. I still hadn't fully realized that my actual mother had vanished.
And then came the light. Summer was coming, and by the end of the year we would be moving. Hopefully, in our own house my mom would become herself again and this time I really would make friends.
But once again, life failed me. I made no friends and my mother had indeed, not moved on. So I once again became depressed. I was depressed and angry and even suicidal but my mother didn't ever even bother to ask how my day at school was anymore. She didn't even tell me that she loved me. I felt so alone, and scared. I never once thought of quitting school or throwing a fit about going, no matter how badly I wanted to never have to go to school again. I wasn't being bullied, but sometimes feeling that insecure, and that alone, is painful enough to make you feel as though you are. It's almost like life is bullying you.
So, I tried to help myself. I started flute lessons and piano again, and horseback riding which I love. I got a therapist, and talked to my doctor, and went to a psychiatrist.
This was good. It should all work to fill the gaping hole in my heart, left from lack of love and support from a mother or friends, right?
Nope.
And, here I am just about a week ago finding out that my mother was, again, trying to get me to go away for the weekend because she wanted to be "alone."
"Fine. Whatever, I'm not an idiot," I said. This was not an unusual conversation between me and this woman who was barely helping me live day by day.
I went back down to my computer where I created my own little world. Just telling myself what I always said in these situations.
I wish I was a little kid again. Not because life was easier, but because I had my "real" mother there and she really did love me.
I was just so confused again, and angry.
Why don't you care about me?
What did I ever do to ruin your life?
You are the one who is being a terrible person, a terrible mother even.
And then my mother came downstairs. She looked me straight in the eyes and said,
"I'm sorry. That was mean, and I'm sorry, OK?"
I didn't know how to respond, this was unlike her usual self.
She sat down next to me and said over and over,
"I'm sorry, that was mean," while she hugged me.
That was when I realized it.
She was there. My real mother was there, apologizing for what felt like more than just a stupid little thing that had happened 10 minutes ago, but for not being there when I needed/need her most.
I hugged her back and allowed myself to be the little kid, I was once. The one who was so close to her mom and looked up to her mom for so much that it was unbelievable almost.
And, then we were both crying. And she hugged me again.
And, I knew, that even if it was only for this one moment, I had my mom back.
She has been there all along. And, will be, and even though days after that happened I can't ever say that she will be back, I know she will be there, at least. And for now, that’s all that counts.





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