Winter formal went off without a hitch. Deirdre was stunning and so was her bf. I might have to come up with a nickname for him eventually, but for now bf works since he’s not a major part of our social circle… his family keeps him fairly tied up almost constantly. Kind of sad actually, Deirdre didn’t see him at all over winter break. Still he’s adorable and obviously adores my girl, so I’ll let it slide for now.

I’ve had more emails from my mother and I finally set up a filter so her emails get sent to S.O. and don’t end up in my inbox anymore. I’m getting a better grip on it, not that it’s been easy. I can feel the anger, judgment and resentment in her emails no matter how she tries to hide it. There are always lines that stand out:

I cannot dig any deeper especially when one person alone is not responcible….

You have established relationship that seem to “work” for you..maybe that was meant to be..I can’t judge that.

I left in her typos and misspellings. It would be easy to write this off as someone in a vicodin stupor having at the keyboard for a bit, but I know her, and she uses inebriation like that to let fly with what she really thinks so she can then use the meds as an excuse later. It’s typical. The swinging from one extreme to the other are just too much for me. One minute it’s how she knows she has done some things wrong, even though she never apologizes for it the next minute it’s how it is a misunderstanding and is the fault of someone else.

Occasionally it’s a guilt trip about how “mothers and daughters” shouldn’t be like this. But then again, maybe she should realize that most mothers wouldn’t attempt to coerce their son-in-law to have their daughter committed either.

I won’t say I hate her. But I can’t say I love her either. Part of me still loves what I thought I knew, the other part of me is sickened over the realization that 95% of what I thought I knew was a giant act. It’s almost unthinkable. I’m grieving the death of a mother who never existed and worse yet, is still alive. Yet, I don’t miss her, I don’t miss the drama, the nasty comments, or the thoughtless judgments and numerous times she hurt me with them.

I suspect she’s jealous of my marriage, my family and the fact that I embody all the values she and my father raised me with – even though she never really valued them or stood by them herself. I can’t imagine ever feeling that way about my child. On the contrary, I want everything to be better for my children, easier, and for their lives to exceed their wildest dreams. I want them to outdo me a million times over. What would the point be otherwise?