My Life Story #2 (Mom Homage)

I want to be writing this like a story, that has a beginning, middle, and end. I feel as though there should be a coherent structure to it, that fits with humanities linear thinking, but I just can't. Depression and other mental health issues are not like a story, they enthrall you in a web, where the only way is in. There is no path to get out, you can't see anything, you look inwards, and see yourself like the devil would see you. I can't write this, with some big lead up to the great reveal, because their is no battle where you either win or lose, it is a thousand skirmishes of guerilla warfare, between yourself, and those around you. I'm telling you this, because I need to write an homage to someone today, my mom.

After October 10, 2009, my life was forever different. That was the day that my father married my stepmother. This may have had the actual largest effect on me, in my life. While before this day I had many issues, after this day they encompassed my being. My first actions to my new life are something I still regret. When my stepmother first joined the family she actively tried to do things to get to know me. At this time though I was defiant, disagreeable, and didn't want to be apart of her. My actions have led to a frost that, has only started to thaw as I hit my later teenage years, and I am sorry about that. As time progressed through the end of elementary school, and then through middle school, instead of being disagreeable, I started to act like how I did at school. I would work to never be bad in anyway, and to hide parts of myself that I thought would be disliked. These same actions continued as well in school, being even more amplified, then they were at my dads, or at school in the past. This left me with just one place where I wasn't societies perfect little being.

Mom, I have no idea how you saved me during this time. I was both a volcano of anger, and well of sadness, and yet you let me be on this Earth long enough to both cool down, and climb out. You would let me stay home from school, when I just couldn't leave my bed. Your love was, and is, so strong that despite any of my actions, you were always there. When I would threaten to kill myself, with a knife in my hand, you would always be there. And then when I didn't, afterwards I would tell you that, you should not worry, because you should know that I never would hurt myself. With my argument being based on the fact that I care about myself too much, too hurt myself. Yes, I told my mother that she shouldn't worry about me committing suicide, as I had just put a knife to my chest, because I cared too much about my life. My mother was blamed for her love, by me, at a time, where I can have no possible equivalent sense of how she was feeling, with her son holding a knife to his heart.

The greatest mystery of my life comes in now. I still have no idea why this occurred, but let me just explain. Every action my mom would take, would ignite a fire of anger, within me for no explainable reason. I felt so angry by her every move, and if she dare ask anything close to a question, be it about me, my day, or anything, nails would be dragged across my brain. I, just, just didn't, and still don't understand why these things hurt me so much. You would do everything for me, be it helping me when I was scared, depressed, or angry. And yet I just couldn't stand you, for some ungodly reason, that made so many of your actions feel so hurtful within my emotions, and yet so nice within my brain. This hurt, and confusion, translated to anger, that was focused on you with precision, with us having so many fights that I instigated. In all of these fights you would still love me so much, despite, my almost craving like experience to find out you didn't. I remember trying to listen in on conversations, just to find out what you truly thought of me behind my back, only to now realize just how much you loved me. As I reflect back on why I was so angry towards you, I would like to say that it was because I knew that you loved me so much, that I knew that no matter what I did you would always be there for me, as I have always said when talking to you about this, in the past, but this was, and is bullshit.

All of my actions at that time happened, because I wanted to hurt you. You were the only thing I had under control, my brothers wouldn't put up with my actions like you would, at school I needed to be someone who was perfect, and at dad's I had a new family, that I was so afraid of doing anything, that I thought would bring disapproval, causing me to become my school self there. I was so mean to you during this period of my life, when all you did was bring love to me. I am, I am, I'm just so, so, sorry, I'm crying right now, and while true, the only reason I just wrote I was crying, was so that I could get sympathy from the people reading this, because I feel so bad for my actions at this time. I won't ever be able to express how bad I feel for my actions then, and I'm trying so hard to show how much I care about you. Despite doing my best to give you the love, and care that you deserve, I don't think I can ever repay you. I love you mom, and I just had to tell you truthfully what was going on then, and why I was, what I was. Your love has made me who I am, a person who adores life, and wants to spread that love. You are the nicest human being I have ever met, who puts herself in harms way for others, when she has no one to do the same for you. You are who I strive to be, yet knowing that I'll never succeed because you were the greatest ever. Thank you mom, you saved me, and let me become someone I can love.