This Isn’t A Real Post

It’s a post about why there isn’t a post.

Remember how I said I was working on a long and whiny post about my mother?

I did write that post.  It took days, and days, for me to write.  And, that’s not like me. I usually write a post in a matter of minutes and then share it with my devoted reader without even proofing it.

Not this post, though, this one was epic, for the ages, with things everyone can relate to.

Well, everyone with a dysfunctional parent anyway.

I wrote it, I read it, I laughed, I cried.

And, then, I deleted it.

It’s supposed to be cathartic to write stuff, like long letters, to and about people who’ve hurt you.  You’re never supposed to send (or publish) those letters, and still you’re supposed to feel better. Unburduned.  Like a beautiful butterfly, emerging from the cocoon of anger and hurt.  Like an addict, finally free of….well, you get the picture.

Except that didn’t happen.  I mean, the only thing I felt good about was not publishing a diatribe against someone who will never change, cannot understand her flaws, and ultimately someone who despite it all loves me unconditionally.

So, maybe the catharsis part will hit later.  Like the delayed reaction you get when you down the third shot of tequila (not that I’d know what that’s like, people).

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Posted on August 24, 2015, in Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. I grew up with a mean alcoholic mother. I had 4 sisters and a dad that was very passive. It was hard to become a mom myself I did not want to be like her. I was the only one out of my 4 sisters to be a stay at home mom. I have never regretted it. As for my mom, well she is 89 and still unsteady emotionally, my dad died last year. I try not to look back and be bitter. I have been blessed by 6 wonderful children and 14 grandkids. My life goes on and I try and make each new day the best day, better than the day before. I love your blog.

    • Thank you, Bea. I have to constantly remind myself of the wonderful things I do have. Four terrific kids, seven perfect (of course!) grandchildren, and a wonderful husband. I guess, though, girls need their mamas…and we didn’t get that, did we? I have to let that go…it’s just not easy. 🙂

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