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Archive for July, 2010

In my previous posts I discussed how my biological mother/abuser has been sick. On Friday afternoon I took a shower, upon getting out I saw my phone light up. I had a new voice mail. The message was from my grandmother. My mother was in the hospital, and wanted to talk to me.

Mother had been checked into the hospital on Thursday. She woke up with a sharp pain in her groin, but didn’t think much of it. She had the same pain for a few days, and her doctor checked her and said she was completely healthy. She went to work that day and when she went to the restroom she tried to stand and couldn’t feel her left leg at all. She called a nurse(she works at my doctors office) who helped her. One of the doctors there checked her, and sent her to the emergency room. She has 3 large blood clots. One in her groin, and two in her lungs.

According to the doctor, she came very close to dying, if she had waited any longer the clots could have moved and gone straight to her heart, killing her.

She’s still in the hospital right now, and probably will be for a while longer. They have her on blood thinners and pain medication. They have to be careful with giving her an IV in case it causes more clots to form, but as time passes on that possibility grows less likely.

My grandmother told her on Friday just how close she came to dying. She said she needed to “make things right with every single person in her life, including her daughters”. Grandma also told her that she would be calling me upon leaving the hospital to keep me updated(I asked her to). When Mother asked why the reply she received was “your daughter might have kicked you out of her life, but she still cares about you, even though you wronged her an voided the right to be called her mom”.

I was completely floored mother wants to speak to me. She said that it was because she wants to “reassure me” that she will be ok. I said I would think about it, and call back with my decision the next day. The rest of the evening I spent talking with my husband, family members, and friends who know the situation.

I decided to not call her. The thought of just hearing her voice sends chills down my spine. I did say that it was ok if she e-mailed me. I don’t think I will ever be able to hold a phone conversation with her, let alone a civil one.

If my mother was more predictable I might have agreed to the phone call. I don’t see what she wants from me however. I want her to just admit she touched me. That she did something wrong. She won’t. And she never will. My life is better without her in it, and that’s the way it is going to stay.

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Sickness Update

My biological mother is still sick. Still losing blood. They found out it is a bleeding ulcer that is causing her to be tired and feel weak. Naturally, she is milking all this to get my poor grandmother to do everything she wants. She had my grandmother go get my little sister’s medication because mother “couldn’t bear to be in the sun and leave the house” yet she took my sister to the movies later.

Recently I’ve been busy, my brother-in-law moved out of the house my husband and I share with his family. We received his old bedroom and now use ours as a computer/living room. I spent all day yesterday taking apart my wardrobe, moving it, putting it back together, then filing it up again. I finally have my own desk again and in one part of it I have books. In moving these books into my desk I found about 6 relating to sexual abuse. Books for survivors. I’ve read a bit of each of them, but I’ve only finished two of them.

In skimming the books I realized something. No matter how many books are written, or how many people read them. They help, but, at least in my case, I still feel like an outsider. Like no one can ever fully understand. Though, truth be told, I don’t always want someone to understand because I don’t want anyone else to understand what that pain feels like.

I had another flashback the other day. It’s not horrible, on the scale of things, but I still haven’t been able to utter it out loud. It doesn’t involve anyone besides my mother and that’s what I find the most disturbing. It’s just my mother, it’s not a stranger or a male relative. It’s someone who birthed me, I share 50% of my genes with this person. No matter how old I get, I can’t wrap my mind around that.

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