Update

I have not updated my blog in a long-ass time. Unfortunately, I hardly ever do things like this, which I regret, because I would enjoy keeping up with this blog. I never really kept a journal when I was a kid, so, as an adult, I'm even worse at it. First of all, I will update general life stuff here, then make another post and then I'll work on my other blog, my writer's blog, because I've got some juicy nomnoms I want to get out of my head.

My mom died September 2, 2010. I was very sad upon her passing, but she was ready to go. But most of the people that were at her wake - I didn't go to the funeral - I had not seen in YEARS. It was slightly disturbing to my psyche to see them-yeah, I've got some social disorders. But I felt like I needed to go, for closure, mainly. It was, hard. My family and the people from my childhood, are all fucked up. Hell, so am I. My brother, a professional photographer, who is also a photograph hoarder, had pix of my mom and us when we were kids, that he contributed to the memorial. WOW! is all I can say, we were fakers, flakers, overall a fucked up family. In one pic, hell, I can't remember how old I am, 8 maybe? - I am hugging my mom around the neck and kissing her on the cheek. The look on her face is distant, like she doesn't know where she's at, she's pulling back from me, a medicated smile stretching her tired face. She looks like she's aware that her body is in my sister's kitchen, but her brain is empty. My mom had clinical depression and psychosis-I think all of her life. From my memory I believe that she has just come back from one of her many stays at one of the many mental institutions she had been in, throughout our life together. I've heard my mom received electroshock "therapy" in the 60s, fuckers! It's also coming out in the family that several members of my mom's direct family (her father and several brothers "suffer" from mental illness.) I am the "baby" of the family and in those pictures, I look like I don't have any problems, I was a stupid kid. When I was a kid I could absolutely NOT see her pain. I only saw mine, or my brothers'-I saw my dad as the "enemy", the cause of all the pain. But, in actuality, living the childhood I did, I became intolerant of people that had mental illness, through the whole spectrum, ie, depression, bipolar etc. Mainly, because I think THAT aspect of my mom's life was to blame for our shit. I know different now. I've got a long way to come back.

I had been meaning to purge myself of my feelings of sadness and rage regarding my mom's death, but I hadn't done it. I am a procrastinator. I know why, I just don't care enough to change it. That sucks. More in a minute. Oh, btw, what does make us REAL?