The Pangs of a Really Bad Day

Today, well you can say, is supposed to be a really bad day. My mother is suing me. My OWN MOTHER is suing me. This is the woman that gave me life. The woman I’m supposed to be able to call for anything. The woman who’s supposed to have my back and learn to make gravy from. The woman I envisioned would love my children and carry her great grandson in her arms. When he was born, she wouldn’t even hold him.

Mental illness is a devastating monster. No treatment for mental illness is even worse. My Mother’s mental illness is OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). I like to call it OCD (obsessive control disorder). It’s wrecked our family. It took away my Mom and left me with a remnant of a relationship. I spent 47 years trying to make it all right. Trying to be the perfect daughter so we could have the family I always dreamed of.

I failed. I’m not the perfect daughter. And she’s not the perfect Mom.

This bond is one that’s supposed to be sacred and, well, unseverable. It’s not. Today I’m haunted by the loss. The reality that the family will never again exist. At least not how it’s supposed to. I’m going to let the tears run down my cheeks. Today is essentially the funeral.

Goodbye Mom. I loved you.

And regardless of how bad this day is supposed to be I’ll make it through. My daughter called to tell me she loved me. My grandson gave me a big kiss as I greeted him this morning and we picked out a big sugar donut for breakfast. I had lunch with my son. I’ve got great retro music on the radio. My husband loves me. I’m wearing a beautiful lime green jacket. The sun is shining.

No matter how bad life seems, there is still goodness and grace. And God. I’ll cling to him today.

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