I think I am a mess. An absolute and total mess.
I have so many emotions and memories fighting inside of me and influencing my mood and thoughts I am just barely able to function each day. Depression isn't even close to how am I feeling right now. In everything I feel and think, there is such a powerful and emotional intensity that rages within me. I spend the days fighting this and they end with me mentally and physically exhausted.
I'm not ashamed to say that the things my sister told me the night my mother died bothered me. Even though I believe that my mother now knows the truth of how I feel, I'm hurt that there was a chance my final words didn't make it to her, and because of how mentally unstable she was she didn't get to here those words for the last time. My god does that bother me. I could live with it if I had dragged my feet and didn't send my goodbyes in time, but I sent them almost a week before she died and my sister never said anything to me, and I just don't like the reasons I come up with as to why almost 4 days had to pass before I called her on it and she then told me she didn't get it. Those were important days, the last days of her lucidity, and it taken not just from me, but also from her. I don't even know if it's worth going into right now, the reasons for that delay, as I think I it would just set my blood pressure rising even more and require me to take another round of meds to calm down, and I have had more than I wanted to already. I'll have to look at it another time, but I am steamed about it more every time I think of it, and that's something I haven't been able to push from my mind.
On top of everything, I find myself examining the meaning of legacy, both in my mother's life and what it means to myself and my sisters. It makes me want to just lock myself away and cry for hours. There is so little positive to pull out of this. All the memories of her life seem to just stack higher and higher into pile selfish failure. The fact that I think this hurts me and the fact that it is true, hurts me all the more. Despite the selfish, wicked, or ridiculous things that she did to me in my life, I always wanted better than that for her. I rooted for her to turn her life around and take advantage of the opportunities she had, but she just never let it happen.
That leads me directly into wondering about my Legacy and what I will be leaving to my kids. I get so scared thinking about this, thinking that I have done a poor job, and that like my mother I may end up with a longer list of failures and unused opportunities. It's unhealthy to think like this, but it's there when I'm alone or trying to go to sleep. It's made me see things in a new light and that's led me to the realization that despite what I previously thought in my life, I'm not afraid of dying. I am afraid of dying incomplete and unfulfilled. That's a biography that would shame me to leave to my kids, and yet right now I just think of all I've not tried and experienced, that I'll end up just like my mother.
And yet, despite being on the outs with her and not really having spoken to her for over a year, I miss her. As crazy as she made me, and as miserable and frustrated as I often was after talking to her, I still wish she was here. I wanted her to be my mother and to turn her life around, but she couldn't and when she died, that was one of the worst things I have ever felt in my life.
Oh yeah, my family has pretty much stopped calling me now. It's only been a few days now since my mother was cremated and they had services for her, but I think that this is how the fallout of my actions is going to be.....................silence. The trouble with it is that the longer it lasts, the easier it to get used to and the harder it is break through. And when I think about the negatives..........
I'll write more later.