In the last three years, I’ve had some fairly significant shit happen on Mother’s Day. 2 years ago, my aunt – the one who hated me and never learned to spell my name right – passed away very close to mother’s day. I can’t remember exactly when because I was really too busy with work, eating a lot, throwing up, and being high and numb. Anyway, I remember it was around Mother’s Day because that’s when I realized that I might have been blaming the wrong parent for fucking me up (to be clear, I absolutely don’t blame either). That Mother’s Day – Mother’s Day 2011 – I came home to my apartment from a yoga class. My mother was visiting, we had special plans to go to brunch and museums, and I walked in to find her packed, tight lipped, ready to flee my apartment, ready to flee from me and my awful poisonous energy and sad pathetic life. I remember pretty much dying inside (my mother LEFT ME on mother’s day), but then being excited because I had found a bonus day to get high and watch 30 Rock.
Last Mother’s Day – Mother’s Day 2012 – my sister announced she was pregnant. Only, that announcement came 2 hours after I popped a Plan B pill to dissolve any chance of a pregnancy with the man I thought was the love of my life, and 2 minutes after a text message came in from him that said “cool, thank you ;)” (yes, smiley-winky face) to the news I had handled the misstep from our black-out-drunk-fuck session two nights before.
Last Mother’s Day was the day that I realized not only was I the farthest thing from a lady who is ready, capable, and responsible to be a mother, but I might not even be fit to be an aunt. No, I was definitely not fit to be an aunt. People who can’t look themselves in the mirror shouldn’t be allowed to be around children, or so that is what I thought. There were other thoughts, too. Like the very clear thought of just how low had I sunk, and the very clear thought that I would never be good enough or okay enough to be a mother. I would just have to accept being a fucking hot mess because that was my destiny.
And here we are, Mother’s Day 2013. Here are the facts. I’m alone, I’m not with child, not with man, not with anything but cat. I had planned to fly to see my sister, the new mother, and my mother. I stopped drinking and I’m not throwing up as much and the pot isn’t as important and my house is clean and I pray to God everyday and meditate and do yoga and I read Eckhart Tolle and Gabby Bernstein and Marianne Williamson and James Baraz and Sharon Salzberg and I run and do yoga and have therapists and coaches and doctors – I mean, I’m a different person, I’m a person who MIGHT be able to have children one day, and someone who I think is now an appropriate adult to allow around children seeing as how I am all of those aforementioned things and I have done all of those aforementioned things. But here is the thing. Right before I got in that taxi to take me to the airport to fly on that plane, I got a text message from my sister. And it was the exact kind of text message my ego loves. It told me I was a burden for switching my flights, and that my sister would call on the universe, Ira Glass, and Starbucks to get her through that 45 minute drive to LAX to pick me up, and that she had found the positive side of having to pick me up. So my ego told me “I got this”, and texted her back the super good news that she didn’t even need to worry about finding that strength, I would not be coming at all.
I’ve grown leaps and bounds, I’m in recovery, I got out of bed this morning not hungover, clear minded, to a clean house, 1/2 and 1/2 in my fridge and coffee beans to match! And I love it, I love my sweet little life, I love my recovery and my path and all of the little things that make life what it is. Just a year ago, I peeled myself out of bed, wondered if the guys at the Avis counter could smell the Jameson sweating out of my pores, and somehow managed to float through the day enough to get by. I mean, I’m really on my way. But I still hate my family sometimes. God has not given me enough strength. Yet ;) (<– smiling winky face).