what. the. F

My daughter moved out on the 2nd day of my festival. She moved all the way to Goveneur, NY, a whole whopping 14.5 hours away from her mama, her family, and everything she has ever known. Fucking ouch.

She was and is my baby girl. I am tearing up thinking about it. I love that child so freaking much. She is outspoken but introverted. She has fierce opinions. She stood up for her mama to some fierce amazons. She is an independent black woman as she so appropriately told me when she was 14 years old. We watched shows on netflix together and played on our devices, side by side. Modern day bonding with mother and daughter in this busy, frenetic, electronic world.

She baked me for me. She cooked my meals. She defended me and stood up for me to the other kids. She made sure my house was clean, at least she used to. She would hang out with me. I miss her so fucking much.

My son, my baby boy, the once long ago cuddly one is gone now too. He has been rotten to me for most of the last year. Just rotten. Disrespectful, rude, disobedient. He doesn’t do much chores. He doesn’t talk to me. he won’t interact. He doesn’t pay for his bills. Normal teenager stuff. I mean, I know, I have done this a couple times now (x7!). But he seems a little worse, a little more entitled and rude, a little more defiant, and not giving a fuck.

It’s an ongoing story with my sons. I have struggled with raising them. They have turned out to be responsible men, at least the first two have. But our relationships were much more of a struggle. Was it because of the disrespect and abuse they witnessed from their father? I am sure that was part of it. Was it because they always had an out to run to in my parents? Probably so.

Which is another whole story. Things blew up this week in my home and with my parents and brother. I called them out on going behind my back and allowing Ned to be disrespectful and still bailing him out and enabling him. They feed him, they spoil him, they give him money, they let him use their cars. I have no way to hold him accountable so why would he care?

There’s so much more to it. There’s so much more to the multiple ways my parents have undermined me with my children. The ways that they would allow them to do things that I specifically told them not to do. And we lived right next door. And I had to work. I had to go to school. And I was the bad mom from trying to keep them from their grandparents. But I knew, I always knew that they talked bad about me to my kids. I always knew that my mother had no filter and that she would say things about me, judgmental, hateful things that kids shouldn’t hear about their mother from their grandmother.

So much shit.

So much fucking shit.

So much fucking bullshit.

They destroyed my relationship with my first son. They have caused so much distrust and distress through their words about me.

And now I know why I react so defensively when people try to help me. They were helping me too. They were helping me by taking over my kids, turning them against me, so they would love grandma and grandpa more. Making me paranoid and defensive about my mothering. I questioned everyone’s motives for so very long. It was and is crazy making. I sound quite crazy right now I think.

But he’s gone. My son is gone. He’s moving in with my parents tomorrow. I am crushed. I am bleeding. I am dead.

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