Sunday, September 5, 2010

For Mom, With Love.

Note: I'm sure a lot of you don't know my whole situation with my mom, but maybe you'll come to appreciate yours after I tell you a bit. This is really for her, but hers is a story that everyone should hear.

My mom is basically the most amazing person I know. I remember my life with her back until I was about 3 to this day. She may not know it, but she's the greatest mom I could ever ask for and I wouldn't trade her for the world.

She isn't perfect, but nobody is. A lot of people probably don't realize just how wonderful she really is, though, because she suffers from a bipolar disorder and is a drug addict. Beneath all of that illness, she has a heart of gold just like the rest of my family (except for my 2 year old cousin, maybe) and is hilarious. She's extremely smart, too. I remember when she took Spanish and was in college, and she would teach me some while she did her homework while we sat in the sauna. She's creative and fun and always puts her heart into everything she does, even if it is pretty unsavory. I think I get a lot of my personality from her. I have a feeling she thinks she's caused too much heartache, but I hope she knows that the happiness she brings us outweighs the sadness tenfold. We've all made each other hate each other at times, even grandma and aunty. I'm not specifying which aunt to keep them both on their toes. (Kidding. Sort of.)

I'll never forget the good things, from you laying down with me at night and playing the music and waiting until I fell asleep to go downstairs to you letting me color in your sun tattoo on your back with markers. When we made spider cookies for Halloween, gingerbread people, my SpongBob cakes, and especially you trying to get me a cat because I wanted something to pet, even if you were allergic. You may feel guilty for some of the things that have happened with me, with all of us, but imagine if it hadn't happened... if we had stayed in Omaha and I never would have learned why you should never do drugs. And I might not have ended up with a sister who makes everything worth it even though she punches me sometimes. And I might still have had separation anxiety today, which would just ruin everything. And I wouldn't be so optimistic, I think, because people who have relatively normal lives can't appreciate things like we do. They don't see how special it is to get some free groceries or have people who are willing to help out nearby or get a car that doesn't break down every few weeks. And when you get through this, you'll be that much stronger and find happiness that much easier, knowing that the worst is over. You'll always have us to love you unconditionally, no matter what. I mean that in the very literal sense of no matter what; you could kill somebody and we would still love you. But, uh, just try not to kill anyone. Just to be safe. That would be such a drag when you get a job and a place to live, and it would definitely come back to bite you in the leg.

Remember when you called me Noodle? Just wondering. I still refer to you as momma, in case you were wondering. And then when you would come home from UPS and I would run downstairs. I even still remember our secret word. (Hint: it's a food that I've been eating all my life and you taught me how to make. And we had a stain of it on the ceiling in the kitchen in Omaha from an incident where they exploded, I believe.) I miss those days where I would wake up  and watch Charmed or some Animal Planet show while waiting for you or grandma to drive me to school, and even the days when you would drop me off at daycare with your legendary white slippers. I remember when we went to Marsha's and I had my Thumbelina video, and when you came to pick me up in the middle of the night because I couldn't handle sleeping over at someone's house the whole night. All of the little things you did were never lost on me. I remember when I wrote that thing about you in Kindergarten and it got published in the school's literature thing. Oh, and even when we lived alone, just you and me, and I would watch Rescuers Down Under while you made me hot dogs and the Ansel Adams photo was hanging on the wall. I still have my Herbert the Lion book and plan on keeping it for the rest of my life. I have drawings of you I did in crayon and remember buying you jewelry at Chrsitmas from my school even though you couldn't wear it; you always hung them on your wall or put them somewhere if I recall correctly. As you know, we have the Mother's Day gift I gave you all with sticky notes and my stick figure drawings of you guys. I even have that little green corduroy dog that barks when you squeezze it from Gap sitting on top of the commputer - that you gave me. Pictures, too, of me and you. I have one on my wall near the computer of you sitting in the sand at the beach with a hoodie and sunglasses on and I'm wearing a purple 2-piece in the background with my super long hair. I look kind of confused and clumsy. The one where I got a huge cookie with a butterfly on it in frosting and then that same night I puked seven times. You were there to help me out and clean it all up. I think those seashell sheets are my favorites. I remember when we would stay at the cabin in Fremont and one year, it was the fourth of July, and I was laying on you in your lawn chair while we all sat in the sand and watched the fireworks. I remember the terrifyingly huge spider that Tracy kept in that butter container. And then he dug that little pond in Howard the Duck's enclosure and fished so that he could put them in there. And I would chase Howard, though I never caught that stupid duck. Then Carolyn (I bet I spelled it wrong) said once that I could be her gopher and go for things she needed because I was bored. I remember when we all lived in that little apartment and had the weird table and chairs and you guys said I couldn't watch Gangs of New York or NipTuck. But now I'm sincerely and thoroughly relieved you didn't; NipTuck involves a crap ton of needles and I'm pretty sure I would've thrown up if I saw it when I was small. I remember you getting me the original version of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and drawing pictures of penguins on the couch. And Tracy's obsession with Dukes of Hazard and Indiana Jones. And jolly rancher candy canes. And how he thought he could rid me of my love for candy by over-indulging me. I showed him.

I'm not going to lie, it was beyond scary when I was at school and you wouldn't pick up your phone to come pick me up. It was hard when you tried to get me to go to school, but I thought you were going to leave me while I was there. Fourth grade was the best and worst school year I've had, but don't feel too bad; I met one of the greatest teachers ever when I moved to Denver. I also had some fun staying at Aunty's place with her friend, even if the smoke smell gave me headaches sometimes. Or her evil cats ripped up my beanbags. When we visited you in Omaha that Christmas (when you stayed with Patrick) his house was very pretty. I think that's a pro, yeah? The tree was awesome, too. Speaking of, I love the gifts you give me, really I do appreciate it all, but it's not the gifts I want. All I want is for you to be able to be around us and be healthy again. It kills me that you have such bad teeth and back problems, so try not to get yourself hurt. I don't know what me or Jos would do without our mom.

I could say so much more, but I feel like it would be more special if we did it in person. Just know that we all love you and believe with all that we have that you will get better. I hope you get this while you're in jail and can keep it for as long as you want or need. I really wated to give you something to hold onto for those times when you don't think it's worth it. You have to hit rock bottom before you can rise again, though, and even if you don't know it, you're rising. Don't go back to your friends, please. Even I know family is more important. I've never hated you and will never hate you, okay? I'm not the only one that matters, I know, but I'm the only one with a blog and who hasn't done drugs, besides grandma, but she was never your daughter and didn't have separation anxiety.

I think you should write your thoughts down, too, so that all the bad things can come out and you won't have to let them linger at night. It works for me, so I think it might at least help a tiny bit for you, too. You have support and you are strong enough to make it through everything and come out alive and better than before. Without drugs. No more drugs, okay? It really is horrible to think that you ever were in a state of mind where you couldn't think straight. I talked to JD, by the way and he started crying. We cried, he cried, there was lots of crying.

For you, momma, with love from January and the rest of us. I hope you don't feel all exposed because this is on my blog - I never used or use anyone's real names except for Josalyn sometimes. And like I said, you should be heard. I think your life is an example of why to never do drugs because the hurt so much more than they help and why you should never give up.

"Your path may get a bit blurry, but just keep going and don't stop and never give up."

It's time now, I can feel it, and things are going to be okay. I have had the best life I could ask for so far and there's no point in letting the negative overwhelm you because there is always goodness and happiness. There's always hope and a silver lining and I wouldn't be who I am today without you.

We'll be waiting and fighting for as long as it takes.

Love you always, January.

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