here we go again… i’m baaaaack!

It’s been a while since I last blogged.  Not that I haven’t wanted to, haven’t felt I should or even didn’t miss it.  But like the sticky-note on the corner of my computer screen reads, “it’s easier to fall off the horse than it is to get back on”.   The longer I didn’t write, the harder it was to write.  I was on a real roll there for a while, writing weekly like clockwork.  And then it hit me.  A moment of insecurity.  “Who cares about what you’re writing Hali!? Who do you think you are!? Pah!  A blog?!? So pedantic.”  On top of the already fraught season of scanty clothing vexing me.  In addition to an argument with a friend (because I’d behaved boorishly) and while I was already feeling badly about my behavior she threw at me the fact that she experiences me as “running hot and cold” anyway.  As if to say I am rather harebrained and capricious intentionally on a whim {honestly, as if Harry Potter has time to be charming and participate in high tea while in the middle of contending with Voldemort – which is how it feels when I am battling the demons within}.  Still, I hate that others experience me as sometimes here, sometimes not, basically balmy.  And then, to add more fuel to the fire, the absolute despoiling contamination on the cake, mother was in town.  And, after close to 10 years of no connection at all, she tried to contact me.  And thus we have the perfect storm of emotional fragility and self doubt and impugnment.  In addition to the apparent whimsy of my ubiety.

The whale that broke the camel’s back was the text from mother.  “10 years is a long time. Can’t we just have coffee?”, she suggested beneficently.  In a moment of wistful sentimental longing for a mother, I considered.  But then the gentle voice of my beloved therapist brought me out of my reverie.  Like screeching tires and shattering glass, the reality of who my mother really is (was and ever will be) snapped into focus in my mind.  No, there is no casual acquaintance with her, regardless of which beverage one chooses to imbibe.  I sent a text back, rather politely declining.  I thought it was kinder to respond than to leave her hanging, waiting, wondering.  I should have known better.  A dozen vile vicious text messages and one insanely tormented and tormenting, hysterical voice-mail followed within nano-seconds of me hitting send.  She called me pathetic and a piece of crap.  In the first 2 minutes of her voicemail (who knows how long it went on… I hit delete fairly quickly) she sobbed that she has less than a year to live, being riddled with cancer, and her last wish was to see her baby girl (gag).  And then back to the name-calling.  Quite honestly, my first thought was, “that’s it? that’s as good as you’ve got?! you’ve really lost your touch.”  From a woman who could rival Joan Crawford to this sniveling drivel was, in her own words, pathetic.  So I figured out how to block her number.  Ok, ok, I admit it.  I blocked her after I spewed my own venom back at her, via text, calling her a borderline whack-job and telling her I wanted nothing to do with her.  I’m not proud of it, nor did it enhance my self-regard to sink to her level.  That old borderline magic can just suck you right in though.  I have no idea how long she was in town.  Nor do I know whether she continued to try and reach me.  I do know that I had two flat tires on my car mere days after that interchange.  Coincidence?  I think not.

At any rate, despite the lingering defilement of contact with momster and the straggler members of the committee still in my head saying, “Who the fuck cares Hali?! No one even noticed you weren’t writing!”, I’m going to take a deep breath and begin again.



About halitentwo

i am. god is. we are. as soon as i write something about me i change, am different, evolving. i am trans. i am a parent. i am a partner. i am a human. i am attempting to live a well-lived life in the spaces in between, beyond definition, fluid, dynamic, omnifarious and always changing. hopefully growing.
This entry was posted in family of origin, my own worst enemy. Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to here we go again… i’m baaaaack!

  1. BEN says:

    Glad you’re back.

  2. Irmak says:

    Good to see you back. We may not have any tangible influence on each other’s lives but I like to read what you like to or choose to share. Thank you for sharing them!

  3. alyciash says:

    Keep writing Hali. It is good for all of us.

  4. Jamie Ray says:

    I’m glad you are back and that it is not a crisis at home. If my mother wasn’t dead I’d give yours her phone number so they could commiserate together.
    Speaking purely from my own selfish perspective, my mother tried for years to get me to visit her, because she thought the reason I wouldn’t talk to her only had to do with me (i.e. that her actions had nothing to do with it). This charade went on right up until her death (why wouldn’t I come visit her?). Honestly, I have no regrets to putting an end to being abused by her, and I felt better once she was dead. There was no way to make peace. Not talking to her (or seeing or smelling her oddly enough) was the “happiest” ending I was going to get. Good for you and for your therapist for not giving in.

    • halitentwo says:

      Jaime, you have no idea how helpful your story is to me. So few people get it. The vast majority of people – even people with mediocre parents – can’t seem to wrap their minds around parents like ours. I’m very thankful for your presence.

  5. Mary Martha Thiel says:

    So glad you’re writing again. I have missed you!!! Keep breathing! MM

  6. patricia says:

    Hali, I did notice it had been quite a while and wondered what was going on. Hope your mom
    was the only reason……does that dog need a haircut?

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