It’s weird that I’d journal about my mother’s death. She’s not the one who is dead. It’s a male family member that died and I’m not certain how I feel about it. I’ve known about this for only an hour so this is my raw response. My concern is that someone will want to call the mother to give condolences. That is not a good idea. So I have to think of it this way, she forfeited all rights to support the day she decided to torture me. The day she decided it wasn’t possible to lay a gentle hand on me all daughter expectations were shredded and burned. when she moved from beatings to out right physical torture she forfeited it all. how could she possibly believe that some day when I got older I’d be there for her? It is my hope that I can maintain this level of anger so that I do not pick up the phone and make that call. Calling wouldn’t be to say, hey, sorry you lost a loved one. It would be to hear her voice and set up and insider for disappointment because that little cub still longs and hopes that something has changed. but damn she’d call me by that name and it would just be over!!!!!
There is no way on earth that I’d let the other Pride members talk to her. It’s always me that addresses that woman but this cub would be close by listening and hoping…the same hope that’s been dashed a thousand times over. Watching the sparkle of hope turn to a tear of grief is not something I will set her up for, not again. I’ve got to learn my lessons too and if I make that call the tears are on me because I picked up the goddamn phone. I have to keep reminding myself that the choice is now mine and no one (not even personal guilt) can actually dictate that I should call. Nobody sees what these Pride members see at night or fear at night. No one sees me look over my shoulder everytime I leave the house so that I’m not surprised by her presence. The fear is great. yeah, Morton’s scared because she’s a horrible, horrible person. She’s also the bodies mother which has it’s own set of problem but add main abuser to that you’ve got one fuckin sick bond that is hard to break. so yeah, I’m scared. I’m scared she’s going to come up to my house but I just remembered something. We have two cats and Captain. They aren’t coming here! I forgot about that. Sheshh..that’s good to know.
The guilt may be strong that I do not call but I have more than my own conscience to worry about. So I have to remind myself that she gave up this right and that I’d be giving up too much to make that phone call. Goddamn I can’t even believe I thought of calling.
Dr. Willow-esque asked me what I would do about giving her mother her address ad phone number. I need to take my own advice. I also need to stop checking the fuckin obituaries. Damnit to hell I have fucked up my night for sure. I think medication would be in order. Clonapin here I come followed by a few stretches and a leap on the love seat to sleep. I will print off my reply to Dr. Willow-esque and post it so I can remind myself that I have come too far to turn back now.
I do believe this might be the very first post I’ve written in this journal that wasn’t was processing for me and not a reply to a comment. I might have to do this more often. It’s different seeing it written out than it is saying it.
Morton of Morton’s Pride