for going on a week now

30 12 2002

i’ve been sick, which never happens to a degree worth commenting on, because usually i just ignore these things, sniffle often enough to irritate myself and everyone else i know, and then get back to whatever i was doing. it’s hard to ignore fluey things that make your head ring with cotton-ball silences and weave a little dizzily no matter what you do, however. i’ve been pacing around my mother’s house, feeling silences, some of them too old for me to touch, some of them blatantly my fault but i’m just as at-a-loss about how to correct them as i was about how to avoid making them in the first place. rumor says wedding-plans are destructive forces to all sets of mother-daughters, and i’m sure i’m the absolute worst kind: the daughter who never wanted to go shopping, wouldn’t wear dresses, had no interests that she understood and passionate disinterest in everything that pleased or moved her… she’s trying to do her best for me, and everything she loves and wants and does is irrelevant, as far as i’m concerned. we’re different species, speaking different tongues at different levels of audibility: even if i could understand the words, they’re above or below my range of hearing somehow. she gets angry at everything i say, and everything i do disappoints her, and then she denies anger and disappointment so that there’s nothing for me to affect at all. and there’s no such thing as talking your way to understanding with someone who denies recognition of her own reactions. 28 years of looking. no decoder ring.
being ill makes the metaphors easier, the distance, the weakness, the silences. i really CAN’T hear properly. and she’s cross with me for being sick and ruining all of her christmas plans, and cross with herself for being cross instead of nurturing, and cross with me even more for noticing that she’s cross with herself, which she then denies.
i could whinge this way forever.
what hurts her most is me saying that i just wish the fscking ceremony were over. she thinks that’s horrible, thinks it makes everything she cares about worthless. how can i NOT want it over, when its continuation just keeps eroding at my relationship with her? she’s more important than the stupid party, than the restaurant, than whether or not i get a veil or have the right flowers or have bows tied onto bubbles, for christ’s sake.
and yes, i’ve told her this.
she just keeps saying “i want you to be happy. i want to buy these things if they’ll make you happy. i want you to be in a place where you’ll be happy.” and none of my language seems up to the job of communicating what i feel is a ridiculously simple sentiment: none of that shit makes me happy. it’s trappings. it’s irrelevant. we’re having it to make the strangers who have to come to the damn thing comfortable. all i want, all i need to make ME happy is to have the people i love near me and smiling at me. flowers or no flowers, bubbles or no bubbles, regardless of what the room looks like.
she doesn’t hear me.
i love my mother.
love is stupid.
she loves me too, even though i’ve been a disappointment to her ever since the first time she brought home a frilly dress i didn’t want to wear. i can’t make her like me, either in terms or showing affection or having similarity. i can’t (be) like her more than once in a blue moon either.
and there’s cotton in my head, and i can’t leave without getting woozy, and i don’t want to leave all angry anyway, but i’m not sure we know any other ways to be.
>sigh<
just pat me on the head and remind me that five months isn’t long at all, and then it will be all over and everything will slowly find its way back to some neutral medium that won’t destroy either one of us.

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2 responses

30 12 2002
rumhann

Sympathies dear,
‘Morning,
Five months isn’t all that long. You obviously know this . . it’s just that going through it will seem longer than it actually is.
As for your being a ‘disapointment’ . . . Something that I’ve learned from getting back in touch with my father – I am and always will be his first born son. That there were nearly 20 years that we didn’t talk or get along, that I felt he thought my life choices beneath contempt (despite his making sure I could make my own choices), that he couldn’t hear me wish him and his new wife a “good life” without deaming me rude and sarcastic . . . We still love and respect each other. We’ve both gotten to realize that unconditional part of family that is sacred. (ok . . I will certainly admit to being swayed occasionally by my own bitterness, but I still remember that he does care)
Unfortunatly . . . I’m at wrk and need to get back to it. I hope this helps, or at least isn’t too confusing like many of my ramblings can be . . . if so, please ask for clarification. =;-}
Be well, get healthy – the rest will find it’s way.
SM

30 12 2002
bluemeg

love ya!
get well. eat many vit-C drops. that makes things better. you could never be a disappointment to her, she loves you!
wedding planning is a bother. I’ll show up just wearing the flowers an bubbles yes?

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