I should start by saying my mother is alive. I am grieving in the unconventional way; many people think of grief as death. My grief is from realizing that my mother, whom I have been codependent on my entire life (30 years), no longer controls my actions, thoughts, or beliefs.
I grieve her absence.
I grieve her friendship.
I do not miss how she controlled me; how she made every decision for me; how she didn’t encourage me to accomplish my goals or take up a new hobby (she’d think I was nuts for blogging – she even thought poetry was nutty).
There were good times too… like laying in her bed snuggled and chatting and laughing until midnight; watching NCAA March Madness and yelling at the t.v. at the stupid refs; wrapping presents for hours during Christmas time with hot chocolate.
I have established healthy boundaries for me and I haven’t seen her in several months – due to me focusing on my well-being first and above all else. Hence the grief.
She has been such a big part of my life. Obviously she is my mother. But she has also been so destructive to my well-being. She wasn’t aware of the damage she has done to my psyche and would deny it now since she doesn’t believe in mental illness.
I miss her but I am choosing to control my own life now.
This realization has made me grieve. Thirty years later, and I’m grieving her absence. Grieving the hole missing in my life, in my heart.
How do I go on? Alone? She thought she was providing love to me but it was all very selfish in the sense that she put herself above everyone. SHE came first; SHE was her first concern. I don’t know that she MEANT to hurt me; she just didn’t provide for me, support me, or encourage me.
The belief that I will never be loved again swarms around me. After all, who could love me if my mother didn’t?