tongue-tied
february 19th, 2000

i don't know why i simply don't say what i mean. ever since i've moved 
back home with my mother - well, really ever since Aisling was born - 
we've not been as close as we used to. i get annoyed with her easily, and 
i notice she gets annoyed with me. perhaps our sources of happiness are so 
totally different that we have a difficult time relating to the other's 
universe, or perhaps we're just crazy, i don't know. (there's my pet word 
again - crazy.) i've always felt as if my life were something out of the 
movie mermaids, and not really much has changed in that area. my mother, 
whom i love to pieces, is one of the most irresponsible people i know, 
besides myself of course. and i suppose it is because of this fact that it 
bothers me when she points out my shortcomings and makes me realize how, 
despite how much i feel i might have grown and evolved, i'm still that 
irresponsible little girl who doesn't think enough of the people around 
her - that person i've been trying to stop being from the moment i 
discovered she existed. obviously, it's a lot more difficult than i 
expected.

it's weird - i spend so much time on the internet. not really on the 
internet, but designing. writing. i've reimaged my main site three times 
in the past year. and i created this journal. i'm never satisfied - i'm 
forever trying to learn more and more, and if i don't know how to do it, 
i'll pull my hair out until i figure it out. my mom kind of sees this as a 
waste of time, and i would have to agree with her, really. i love it, i 
derive great amounts of enjoyment from it, but what good is it, really, 
when all is said and done? i suppose if i really develop my skills i could 
start doing it for a living. and i suppose, in some ways, it is an art 
form. but that doesn't matter. there is a time to work and a time to play, 
and since my times to play have been so far and few between these days, 
i've sort of monopolized my free time with my playing moments.

but my mother is no better. she had five days off, and she spent them 
creating mp3s, searching for mp3s, and cataloging her music. it means a 
lot to her, but it totally baffles me. i love music, i love mp3s, but the 
only times i ever spend a whole lot of time gathering, collecting, and 
sorting is when i am making cds for my friends. i just feel as if my 
mother is being hypocritical, i guess. that isn't right for me to feel 
that way, especially since she is being so good as to let me and the 
little one live here in her apartment rent-free.

but that's not really what is bothering me right now. there are a lot of 
things i want to tell my mother, a lot of ways she has hurt me, and 
annoyed me, and upset me, and i can't. i suppose part of it is because 
she's going through a difficult time right now anyway, but i'm just 
terrified that if i were to tell her how i felt about some things, she 
would totally withdraw, and totally collapse. motherhood is the only thing 
she feels she has done right in her life, and if i were to point out her 
shortcomings, or the ways that she hurt me when i was younger, i'm afraid 
her entire foundation would collapse. and i love her too much to see that 
happen.

i suppose the core of the issue is this: when i was about ten or eleven 
years old, my mother needed to "find herself." the West called her, and 
she packed up all of her stuff and went to new mexico, getting settled 
down and getting things ready for my little brother and myself to go join 
her after the school year had ended - in the meantime, we stayed with our 
grandparents. it was only about half a year, not really long at all, and 
it made perfect sense, and at the time, i really didn't think about it at 
all. or anytime after that, really - until Aisling was born. after she 
came into my life, i realized just how strong that motherly love was, and 
i couldn't imagine being apart from Aisling for a few hours at a time, 
much less 6 months.

don't get me wrong - i think my mother is an excellent woman, full of 
courage, and strength, and she was a damn fine parent, and i think she did 
a wonderful job. but that doesn't change the fact that it still hurt me, 
her going away like that, and it doesn't stop me from thinking that we 
might not have lost custody of my little brother if she had taken us with 
her in the first place.

i know i need to discuss my feelings with her, but every time i try, i 
freeze up, my words disappear, and i am tongue-tied. but it probably isn't 
the best time to mention it anyway, because she really is going through a 
lot.

i wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for signing my dreambook 
(currently in monty python theme, but is likely to change often). :) and 
mehr, the boy with curly hair and glasses was my brother, visiting for the 
weekend and therefore monopolizing the computer. (and i was disguised as 
robert smith.)