This title says it all. The nightmares had really gotten better. I don’t feel like I’ve had a vivid one in a long time. At least a few weeks, but more like a couple months. Then last night – back to the same, but different. Awoke sad, panicked, angry. My subconscious dreaming mind is sure a shit show to be in.
At least it wasn’t about my ex-husband this time. I can’t remember the last time I had one of my awful nightmares with him, his rage, his evil ways, his manipulation. Nah, they’ve been better. Far better. (Probably won’t be after this entry though. Great.)
This time… My mother. My kids. I don’t even remember all of it. But I remember I had the three kids – they were little again. I wanted to take my sons somewhere and my mom was refusing to let me. I wanted to take my daughter and she refused. Then it was suddenly current time and I had new kids. The baby I’ve desperately wanted and my mom trying to tell me what I could or could not do with this baby. She wanted it. She wanted to dictate what I did with it. Then I’m bawling, telling her she already stole my first daughter from me and I just wanted to be the parent and it wasn’t fair she always got to take over my children and not let me be a mom. She was still refusing. I was begging and crying to just be left alone. Then I woke up…
Sad. Sad she’s taken so much from me. Sad she ruined my own childhood and then ruined me enjoying my (now) adult children’s childhood. Sad she ruins my relationship with my daughter’s children. Sad that she can NEVER meet my future baby. Sad that I don’t have a real, genuine, legit mom. Instead of the selfish, self-victimizing woman who birthed me.
I’m sure this all comes from the holiday season. All the pent up feelings. All the memories of previously ruined holidays. The subconscious awareness of what she’s done to my life and how she’s playing me for so many years.
My foster son has never met her. He never will. Nobody deserves to have her in their life. Yet, I guess typing that – he will. My daughter scheduled my grandson’s birthday party in January. On a day I can go. On a day my mom can go. It’ll be the first time I’ve had to see her face in over 5 months. I don’t plan to interact with her. Yet, she’ll still be there. Near us. Ruining the air with her toxic behavior. It isn’t fair. I guess I should say he’ll never be left alone with her. He’ll never be subjected to her unless it’s a public, group function I can’t avoid.
My future baby – Annabelle or whoever he/she will be – Will never meet my mom. I will never again let her use my own children against me. I will never again make my kids a pawn in her sick, evil game. I will never again let her triangulate my children against me or hold them over my head. How do you explain that to a child? How do you explain their adult siblings have a grandmother who gives them never ending gifts but they can’t have that? Yes, I know I have a good few years to worry about it. However, it still makes me sad. He or She deserves wonderful people around them. She isn’t wonderful, but damn it I don’t want this child to ever think they’re less. I don’t want them to ever feel the way she makes me feel.
Yes, I know my baby is just created inside of my head currently. I have goals though. Dreams. Illusions. Fantasies. I picture the absolute best for this child. This never includes my mother. Never. She knows nothing of our grueling IVF process except what anyone else may have told her. She won’t get a pregnancy announcement, a baby shower invite, a hospital invite, an invite to hold my sweet baby and breathe in his/her heavenly smell. She will never be invited to meet this human. To hold him/her. To love him/her. I will give this baby the world and not once will she ruin it. I’m not a teen mom this time. I’m not 20 with 3 kids, broke, addicted and scared. I’ve came too far. I will NEVER be that young, naïve, lost girl again. I will never be a young mom backed into a corner again.
Yet, I guess it worries me. I guess I know deep down inside that a child may flush her out of the woodwork. A child may make her suddenly try to reach out. I’m amazed I’ve made it 5 months without her trying. I can’t imagine. Yes, I’m the one who chose to go no contact. Yes, this is my choice. But as a mom, as someone so desperate for child – I cannot grasp ever being away from my child. I cannot grasp my child not speaking to me. I cannot grasp not reaching out and trying to have a relationship.
I guess that’s what makes us different. I guess that’s why I’ve never been her. That’s why we’re different. I’ve never turned my back on my children. I’ve never walked away. I’ve never went days, much less months, not talking to my kids. Even when she essentially stole my daughter – I tried, I did everything I could, I called, I went over. I didn’t accept not seeing her, not loving her. Unlike my childhood – where she willingly gave me away, where she forgot I existed while she partied, where she was still MIA when I was a teenager and living with her.
There’s a reason I was an alcoholic at 14. A reason I was in treatment by 15. A reason the police knew my name. A reason I moved out the week I turned 17. A reason I had 3 kids by the time I turned 20. A reason I became an addict and fought like hell to get clean for my kids. All these reasons – they revolve around her. Revolve around trying to numb my childhood, my teenage years, my pain. Revolve around trying find something or someone to love me. No matter the cost.
My therapist once said – Do you have all these dogs and treat them so good to show them the love you never had? Now its, do you think you show foster son so much love to make up for the love your inner child deserved but didn’t get? Yes, absolutely. While I was loving him last night I realized – That is exactly it. I love him. A lot. I have empathy for him. I relate to having your parents choose something over you. I’m giving him the love I didn’t get. And I’ll give the next child the love I didn’t get to.
I need to turn my love towards myself. I need to learn to love me enough. I need to heal my inner child.
And yes – all of this was realized from one lousy, sad, depressing nightmare. Tonight I pray for peaceful sleep. Happy dreams.
My life is going to be fabulous. Eventually. For now, I’m working on it.