Gravel In Ya Guts and That Spit In Ya Eye

Whenever I do a reflective post regarding my childhood and the wonderful affects my mother had on it, it's never too positive. Scratch that, it's never been positive. I feel bad about that. But that is what she made out of her time with me, shaping me, molding me. So, when I need to rip that old band-aid off, I will. She is my mom, yes. Did she do the best with what she knew? I suppose. But my mom was the Yin and my dad was the Yang. And when I can find something positive and uplifting to recall about my childhood with my mom, I will.
I'm still searching.
Anyway. This is leading somewhere. Last Thursday, I called my mom in the morning to check in. She called me back a few hours later, we spoke and hung up. I began my chores for the day of laundry, stripping beds, and well...you get the idea. I was upstairs, the phone was ringing & there were no phones upstairs with me - they were all downstairs. The answering machine picks up. And this is what I hear in a horribly monotone, horribly suspicious, horribly bland tone of voice: "Je-ss. Where are you? *sigh* I don't know where you go all of the time. All right. Callmeback." This annoyed me terribly. It doesn't sound like much. But you'd have to hear it. It had her 'tone'. The one I've heard my whole damned life. The one that makes insanely ridiculous accusations, the one that is Passive/aggressive, the one that makes my neck hairs stand on end, the one that sends me in a tailspin. After I huffed and puffed, ranted and raved about this message, I had a revelation.

I've lived with accusation after accusation, suspicion and guilt. And I lived this on a daily basis with my mother. So, no wonder I'm always so damned defensive. I constantly had to defend my actions, my thoughts, my desires to better myself. And I had to defend them to my mother. Granted, I'm not defensive all of the time. I am actually a pretty laid back person. However, the minute I feel I am being questioned, demoralized, put into a corner, condescended, scolded or bossed around. BAM!!! Out she comes....Mt. DefensiveBitchTabitha.

Yes, I am an adult. With my own mind. My own personality, my own views, morals and values. But at what point can we shed what has been, essentially, programmed? I know it's there. It's one of the things I like least about myself. But it's like the aftershocks of an earthquake. It's just going to happen. It's part of the process. Nature vs. Nurture, folks.

It's funny how something as trivial and stupid like, a little message on an answering machine, can open a whole can of worms. But that's the funny thing about life and our 'demons'. They're there. We're all walking around "carrying a bunch of ghouls" around with us. (You'd have to watch old episodes of 'The Soprano's' to get that one. Good old, Paulie.) Anyway........

Something has been working it's way out. I've been on a journey the past few months. Where that journey will lead, who knows. And my journey's never seem to make any sense until about 5 years, after the fact. I'm just hoping that I am able to walk away from the defensiveness that has been bred in me. I'm hoping to shed that last bit of that little girl that sits cowering in the corner, awash in shame and guilt, for no good reason. Other than her mother's need to keep her down in "the mud and the blood and the beer". Because that little girl has had a fire burning inside of her for quite sometime. It just has been grossly misdirected.