Work in Progress

One day I am going to write a book about my mother.

I don't know if anyone will want to read it. I am sure no lessons would be learned and nothing would be gained from it. If anything, it might help me to diminish some of the anxiety that is trapped within me. No one would believe it. People would think it is a work of fiction because someone like her could not be real.

She is, on the outside, a functioning human being. She has a full time job, owns her own home, has a degree, is married, had three kids, all very normal.

But she really isn't at all. Once I can get my mind around all her little foibles... Maybe I should write a list? I once described what she was like to a trainee nurse and she advised that my mother sounded like an acute schizophrenic. She acts like a child. At times I feel like I am her mother. She acts like she doesn't understand things and puts on this air of naivety. It is her way of manipulating the people around her. She understands the price of everything and the value of nothing. She believes the world wants to destroy her and that is why she is so miserable. She does not understand that she is the architect of her own misery.

She thinks a white knight will save her from her existence. That is how she is in her current predicament. Her latest white knight was a guy she met while embarking on another one of her money making schemes. She was training as a masseuse so she could moonlight as one and this guy worked at the training center. I should add that she is still married to my father but they can't stand each other. The only reason why they are still married is because my mother does not want to pay for a divorce or lose the house and my father won't leave because he is an alcoholic, unemployed bum and is financially dependent on her. I would find my father's alcoholism more depressing if he wasn't such an asshole... swings and roundabouts. Also their marriage is based on lies. There is just so much going on!

My advice to my mother was to leave and enjoy the rest of her life happy with this new man. You can't put a price on a happy life, right? WRONG!

My mother did not want to lose the house so she moved her new boyfriend in with herself and my father. It is completely dysfunctional in a way that is bleak with no source of comic relief. I tried to keep as far away from the whole situation as possible but then my life fell apart and I had to move back in with my parents (and my mother's boyfriend). It's a really shitty house too because they are too tight to maintain it and it can't be worth more than £50,000. They fight, all the time, about stupid shit. There are some really deep seated issues and it manifests itself in shocking behavior like death threats for not helping to carry groceries in from the car (even when its a one man job). There is real rage over inconsequential occurrences.

If I had supportive parents, maybe I could have amounted to more than human garbage. Not that it matters...

Last night I cried before I fell asleep. There are so many lives in the world. There is an overabundance of potential on this planet...

Wasted potential is not a crime.