Lost at Sea
Alhzeimers is the cruelest form of death one could ever imagine, and though I'd seen it take my grandmother, my family and I knew not that it would take mom as well.
I am the youngest of five siblings. My mom and dad divorced when I was five, my only brother was nine years my senior and we were not close, nor were any of my sisters. I seemed to have been just another mouth to feed and the one who took the emotional abuse from an angry mother who once a week told me how 'bad us kids were' or that maybe we'd come home and find her gone too if we didn't start behaving. Whether she meant it or not, I internalized every attack as being my fault; buying into all the lies, building a shell so thick around my heart and mind that when I did do something wrong, her physical blows only hurt for awhile but meant nothing in terms of the way she told me she did it for my own good.
I could never figure out why mom got away with all the lies she told, yet beat the hell out of me whenever I did it. I can only hope there is a considerate ear and educated mind reading this cause I have never been able to put this into words as to everything that was done to me by my mother. If grief is what it is to be called then perhaps getting it out rather than trying every other self-destructive habit, will help break the final chain link that seems to not want to let me go, no matter what I have tried, I just seem to not be unable to reach into my head and get rid of the memories. I don't remember too many 'good' ones, but a don't want to keep the 'bad ones' either.
I am a 48 year old male who should have what other 48 year old males have, a family, wife, grown kids. I have none of this, I have so much to offer others yet find myself isolated and often times afraid to open this door. So I live in a somewhat state between reality and denial. It sucks. I have tried recovery in other forms, and am clean from street drugs and alcohol. I believe in God the Father, His Son and the Holy Spirit, yet nothing keeps these 'guilt' voices out of my head.
We weren't raised in love and family, nor taught to love and trust, but to survive. Without the ability to love and trust, what's the point of surviving. It is lonely out on this sea. Prayer helps yet one has to work it for it to work and alone is bad company when dealing with issues such as these. I deserve peace and freedom from my mother's passing, not a continued prison sentence.