Well, it only took me 40 some odd years.

So, it was mothers day yesterday. I spent the day thinking, same thing I have done every day that I can remember really. I came to a conclusion yesterday, and I wrote a letter. Then I took the letter to where it needed to be and I buried it there.

Dear Mom

Well, It’s been 8 years you’ve been gone. I’ve had 8 years to think about all the stuff you said in the car not long before you died, 8 years more of hating you and I’ve come to a conclusion. I am a fucked up unit. You were a fucked up unit. Our fucked upness was just different. You externalized your pain and I internalized mine. I did everything possible to hurt myself and you did everything possible to hurt everyone else. I’ve decided that it’s a wash. You had no more control over what you did than I did when I did all of those things to myself. That is changing today.

I’ve been thinking a lot. I do that. Thanks. I’m so quiet people think I’m cold or whatever but it’s because I am constantly trying to get the rubics cube that was my life back to factory set. I know, I could do a real one really fast so don’t go there, this is infinitely more difficult.

I don’t understand the stuff you did, but I think that it’s exactly the same as the stuff I did to myself except like I said you were an externalizer. If that is true then that means if I am ever able to forgive myself I have to be able to forgive you. I think you were as broken as I am. Thing is mom, I don’t want to be this way anymore. So here goes. I accept the apology you offered me that day in the car. I felt you were being disingenuous at the time or that you knew your time was almost up and you were scared and you didn’t really mean it. I have decided to accept that you did mean it and let it go. I’m sorry for what I said. I was still raw and angry but some of those things never should have been given voice. Some of those things were every bit as venomous as the things loosed on me and I am sorry because once that cork popped it was impossible to make it stop. I should have been the bigger person that day. You were sick and old and scared and I made it worse, so much worse. You were defenseless and I took that moment to give you back the knife you stuck in me. It’s funny ma, It felt so good giving you back every bit of the shit I ate for 14 years, but I felt sick today thinking about the things I said in the car. I’m sorry I said I was glad you were dead. Nobody should be glad about things like that. I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop Sean.

I forgive you. Really. Finally.

You will always be my mom.


May 11. 2014

Edit: Apparently I’m not the only one.


7 Responses to Well, it only took me 40 some odd years.

  1. Camille says:

    Dear Kelley
    So proud of you your past will not define who you are bless you and let the healing begin!

  2. Now you can start your life. You are in control of your happiness now!

  3. Mine is still here. I have sucked up the nastiness until I think I should be called Hoover. The pain in the heart daily is almost more than I can stand. It is good to see that one day I may be able to let it go.

    • reallybigmeandog says:

      Hey Changingtymes. Listen, what I did, I did because I was drowning in it. It was not a charitable act towards my mother, it was finally trying to swim for shore because I was surely drowning. My parents, both although I blame my mother more because she was my mother, did horrible, unspeakable things to me and my brothers. Four sibling suicides in one family? Where the hell does that happen? Every damn suicide note said basically the same things. Four hands, four acts, one basic letter. I am the only one still standing. The only way to ever get out of the water is to let go of what’s holding you anchored there. I isn’t about them for their sake, it’s about you for yours. I hope you find peace. I still have not, but I am getting closer to shore.

  4. Deb says:

    Your letter really hit home with me <3. I think the letter idea is cathartic and inspiring. My mother was paranoid schizophrenic – I believe that's from where my appreciation of biting humor stems…need I say more?

    • reallybigmeandog says:

      Deb: Not a word. Thank you. I honestly think it helped me to write it and that can’t be a bad thing.

  5. bobbie thompson says:

    I’m sitting here with tears running down my face. My mom’s still alive and I have stuffed things down for many years as well. Stuffed until I feel I may burst. And the guilt of hating my mom is eating me alive. I’m seeing a counselor. Trying to forgive. Trying, trying SO FUCKING HARD! But she just won’t stop. I’ve worked hard to overcome a lot of shit. Just when I think I’m there…BAM! It’s back. Fifty fucking one years old and STILL fucked up by mom.

    Excellent post making me cry. Talent. Yep, you got it

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