serafaery

It's so strange, my mom spent her last coherent years trying to make mine hell, she disowned me, refused to let me participate in family holidays, she spent so much energy trying to convince me that I was worthless, would never be able to support myself, would never amount to anything, would never have any friends or anyone who would love me, that I'd never have a supportive partner (because all men do is let women down).

But now that she's gone, all I feel is the loss of the kind of mother she was when I was little, so joyful and loving and encouraging and instructive. It makes me feel like all the bad stuff was just a bad dream, or her illness, something she couldn't control, her alcoholism and mental illness consuming her, but not really who she really was. sigh. it's not freeing exactly, but it's surprising, in a good way.

I am stress eating like WHOAH and vampire show binging and I am allowing myself this night of fucked uppedness, at least I'm not drinking, this is a win.

hashtag more chocolate?