Bloom where your planted. Below is a picture of a plant from inside Mama Jeans house. Poor thing. Trying to grow and yet can’t. And it not lack of anything except chi. Nothing stays alive around Mama Jean. Why? Hell I don’t know? I’ve wonder that for yeArs. She seems to suck the life out of everything.
Plants react to energy. Sun. Water. And love. She either ignores the plants? Until they are stressed so far they can’t be brought back? Or she drowns them to death. It’s my observations.
I’m sure so many think I am just dogging this poor woman and tearing her down. But that’s not the point of this blog. It’s tearing back the curtains to just show what is. This is what I have been workin with since my Mama sent me here. And it hard. The hardest thing in my life is loving a woman who struggles to live herself? Why? Is it my job to have to help her?
She hates me. She is so how do I even describe it? My sister Victoria met the woman. Cold, sharp, ridged, steel gaze, towards me and anyone who comes around me. Everyone feels it. If she does not like you? You know it by her cool actions.
And she fluxes. Nice and generous and then cold and distant and this is the jagged dance I’ve danced with the woman my Mama sent me to? What did she send me here for? Oh. That’s right? To get rid of the evidence of her own bad decisions? That is surely how it appears now.
I’ve got no way back into her life? She threw me a few bones when we met? Called it love. And then? Ignored me. I called her. I spent money on calls to her to? What? Talk and maybe find some way to change things with Mama Jean? But no. She’s to busy helping strangers now and can’t seem to find time for a child she herself neglected and called it love?
Adoption is sick. Twisted. And it’s me that got caught in this cross fire. And I’m about to change it drastically. This is my warning shot. I may just disappear from everywhere. I may just walk like Chelsie. Seems to be the trend. And if I can’t beat it? Then I might as well join and just leave and go somewhere where no one knows me and begin again.
I’m just done playing nice anymore with either of these woman. They could give a shot about me. They got out of me what they wanted in this sick game of thrones. And it’s time for me. I’ve lived my life for two woman that could give a rats ass about me. And that the pill that they have forced me to take. My way or the highway. So. Highway it will be.
Not sure what Mama Jeans gonna do without me? Maybe David will take up where I left off? She doesn’t seem to bother him. When she acts stupid he records her and tells her she never should have had kids. And this is what she gets for what she’s done and not done. And can’t seem to do.
She’s just never happy. I never see her even look like what I say or ask matters. I asked her today? What will you do? You want me to leave you? Who will help you? Who will fix the bank? Who will cal the phone company? Who will walk the dog? Who will _________. Fill in the blanks?
I feel so unappreciated for my efforts? She can’t seem to give me any emotional nurture? Unless there’s something in it for her? Love should be give and take? And this roads a one way in her mind and I need to live. This is not living.
Nothing I do excites her. Nothing. She’s only being polite. She told me today. She really doesn’t like who I have become? She sees nothing in me that she likes? And I am not like her at all? Except traumatized? She does seem traumatizes and I seem to have. Even traumatized too by her trauma.
When I married and was living with my husband. She drank herself into such a state? And I should have put her in a home then. Why? Do I not do what’s best? Because Victoria met her when she lived with me? She’s a piece of work. Work work work. And no fun. Except every now and again when? She’s just trying to string me along so I will stay? Crumbs. And money.
I’ve tried so hard. So very hard to make this right and it’s all wrong. So. Don’t tell us that we don’t try? Try is my middle name now. Working on relations is all I do. Trying to get her to? Open up? Be? Nice? Stop treating me like a child? Bossing me around and reminding me of things I know? Maybe tell me you love me now and again and how much you appreciate me and all I do? I’ve done that? I make card and art and this and that over the years? Nothing.
The same. And. I’ve done all I can. I must move on. She wants me to fail to prove my Mama is nothing and that I am just like her. That I will just leave? It’s sick. She’s pushing me away.
I want people to know. What Adoption gave me was not better. I don’t want any child to be so filled with love? And to be with people that don’t even love themselves? It’s cruel.
I’ve got to work on me. I thought? Dumb thing to do. My family would? Help. But no. That’s not an option either. Now that Mama sees. She’s a my way or the highway woman too. So I was damned from the get go in this mix. The only way out is selfish love for me now they seem to have themselves satisfied. Now not my turn.
I’m not going to lie. It hurts like fucking hell. Hell. And I’m done with hell. I’ve tried to show Mama what was in my heart for us. She’s blind now. And can’t see me. And never did. A piece of her deemed as trash. So sickening. It turns my stomach into knots thinking about them both. So entitled. And denying me my entitlements by human rights law. So ignorant of the truth they know not what they both have done to me.
Crucified to save their faces.