I think my relationship with my mother has deteriorated to almost nothing. And to be honest I’m not as bothered by it as I was before. I think the problem is that my mother and I are very stubborn people, therefore we clash a lot. What bothered me more though is that my siblings couldn’t seem to understand what was wrong. I could go 3 weeks without saying a thing to my mother and it would never even trigger a feeling of sadness in me. But a day without a message from my sister would kill me.
My mother is the spiritual type who always refers to the universe as creator of all solutions but blames everyone else for their own problems. I however, am someone that feels that everything you do has a consequence and it’s actually up to you to fix it. I refuse to set an intention hoping that one day the universe will magically give me the numbers to the winning lottery ticket. My mother is also the type of person that eventho she cares a lot, will never really take you into consideration if it’s not to her full benefit. And because of my busy work/school schedule, this means we do very little together.
I think my mother doesn’t mind spending time with me but she also doesn’t mind not spending time with me. For me, spending time with my mother is something I dread. It’s going to result in an evening of doing what she wants, so probably drinking wine at a place for older people that plays latin music, while she smokes a pack of cigarettes and gets offended with everything I say. Even though all I was trying to tell her was about my week. But of course, everything that went wrong during my week is my own fault and I should ask the universe for some guidance. Not spending time with my mother gives me a feeling of relaxation, I’m suddenly not walking on eggshells and I can do whatever it is I need to do.
I think something that has also contributed to this feeling of emptiness is the depression I’ve fallen so seamlessly back into. I’m in a dark place right now, and very demotivated with everything I do. I’m still doing my best, not because I want to, not because I want to make people proud, but because I know no other way of functioning, though I barely am. I lock myself up in my room, into my safe place and stow away all of these overbearing emotions that I can no longer control.
I wish I could have been more okay, and I try to tell myself that not everyone is okay all the time. But I’m feeling as if I will never be okay. As if this relationship with not only my mother, but myself, my inner happiness, will never be okay. People tell me I should worry about my relationship with my mother, but one day I will no longer have her. And I will be left with myself. A rotten, unstable relationship with myself. And that’s the one I should work on first.
The question I have been trying to figure out is “For who am I?” I can tell you who I am, I can tell you what I like and dislike, but who am I worthy of? Don’t tell me not to ask myself, because I already have, and it bothers me that it seems as if I am not worthy of anyone, and will never be good enough for anyone. I want to amount up to something. And I’m not sure if I ever will.
I guess I’m just trying to say, I need time to sort out my problems. And I will write about my problems, but I would like to ask that you keep my feelings in mind, and that you have an open mind when you read this.
With hope for the future, Kamla.