Hate Me: My Regrets

I have to block out thoughts of you

So I don't lose my head.

They crawl in like a cockroach

leaving babies in my bed.

Dropping little reels of tape

To remind me that I'm alone.

Play movies in my head...

There's a burning in my pride

nervous bleeding in my brain

An ounce of peace is all I want for you...

Hate me today

hate me tomorrow

Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways

Yeah, ways hard to swallow

ate me so you can finally see what's good for you.

...In my sick way I want to thank you

For holding my head up late at night

While I was busy waging wars on myself

You were trying to stop the fight

...you made me compliment myself

when it was way too hard to take.

So I'll drive so fucking far away

That I never cross your mind

And do whatever it takes in your heart

To leave me behind.

And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave

kicking shadows on the street

For every mistake I made.

and like a baby boy, I never was a man

Until I saw your blue eyes cry

And I held your face in my hand.

And then I found out, yelling "make it go away!"

Just make a smile come back and shine

Just like it used to be

......

Blue October, "Hate Me", 2006

Yesterday I cried at my therapy appointment. I never cry, especially in front of other people. I even have a hard time crying in front of my husband. However, no matter what I said, or what joke I tried to make, tears kept coming from my eyes. I am actually very envious of people who can cry easily, because after I do finally allow myself to cry, I feel better. A weight lifted from my body.

April is dead mother's month for me. My mother died in April four years ago, and my life has never been the same. I miss her so much sometimes that I can barely breath. Most times I make myself think of something else because it hurts too much to think about how my life would have been had she never died. I was only 30 years old when she died. She was only 51. I feel so cheated by her being taken from us. I finally had my miracle baby; he was six months old, and she was gone. I needed her then, and I need her now. I see daughters with their mothers, and I am jealous. It hurts so much, and I feel so alone. During the afternoons while the Tot is sleeping and S. is playing by himself, I think about her. I think about how much they would have loved her, and how much joy they would have given her. My brother's two oldest children got to know her, but not my kids. S. even gets my dad's wife and my mom confused. He doesn't understand that my stepmother is not my mother. When I ask him where Grandma Debbie is, he points to the sky and says"Up in heaven with God." That breaks my heart. She was there for his birth; the first one of us to hold him, and he doesn't even know who she is.

I have so many regrets when it comes to my mother. She was sick for so very long. I was so selfish; I should have been there more. I should have spoiled her rotten with things she never would have bought herself. I still remember the day my old fertility clinic called to tell me I was losing our first baby. Hubby told me to call my mom because she could get to our home sooner. I called her, and she immediately came over, cancelling an appointment she had made long ago. All of us in our family always came first to her. But did I put her needs first? No. I wallowed in my own pain over not being able to get pregnant. I hid my pain over her illness in my work. I stayed so busy that I couldn't even think about what she was going through. My dad wanted us all to go to Hawaii, her dream, but we never did. I thought I'd be pregnant, and who can travel then? I don't know. I seriously don't think she would have gone. I know she regretted working as long into her illness as she did. She never got to do many things that she wanted to.

I mainly regret not being there in her final months. I was working through the postpartum depression that I had acquired after S.'s birth. I had a hard time doing anything not related to him. Getting dressed was even hard. I should have just packed up the baby things, and got in the car. I should have been there every day. I lost a lot of time that I could have spent with my mom. Sure, we talked on the phone for hours every day, but it's not the same as being there in person. I only lived five minutes away from her. FIVE MINUTES! I can't really describe how bad I felt when I was battling the PPD. It was like being stuck in mud. I could barely move. No motivation. It took an hour to eat a small lunch. She wanted me there. Her friends couldn't understand why I wasn't. Hell, I couldn't understand why I wasn't. We did spend weekends together. Hubby was wonderful about that. He made sure I was with her.

When the PPD was somewhat under control, I did spend a lot of time with her. There were always people there. From church, her work, or wherever. There always was a lot of noise in my mom's house. In contrast, mine was very quiet, except for the times S. would cry. I finally was feeling better and there for her, and then it was over.

Just before her death, my mother and I planned out my new kitchen. We decided it should have red walls. She was going to help me plan it. And then she was gone. Everything was so quiet. So dark, so lonely. And I just remember all those wasted days. All of that time that I could have spent with her. I'm so sorry mom... So hate me for all those things I SHOULD HAVE done for you. Hate me for being so damn selfish. For thinking of my needs first. I miss you so much. Every. Single. Day. I think about you when I get up in the morning, and when I go to bed at night. When I look at my youngest son's eyes, and their shape is yours. When I look at our oldest, and his profile is you. When I look at my red kitchen, and the ring of yours I wear every day. When I see your pictures all over my house. I think of you when I say something you would have understood. And when I finally understand how hard being a parent was for you too. Now that I'm a parent, I understand you more. I think about you when I'm in pain from my endometriosis. I think of you when I wish there was someone who would take care of me. I think of you when I am one of the only female family members in a room. I'm surrounded by men mom, and sometimes I need a woman to talk to. A mom. My mom. I need your unconditional love. I need you. I always will. So until I am on my way home to you, know that I am so sorry I wasn't a better daughter. You deserved better than me. I'm so sorry mom. So sorry.

My mom the last Christmas Eve that she was alive. She is holding S. who was 8 weeks old at the time. She gave him that outfit. My dad is next to her. She looks so pale in this picture now, but on that day we all thought she looked so good.