That which is new is scarier than what is old.

After many months of debating with my internal cat I've decided to try blogging. Why? Well if anyone cares I guess the most basic reason is that I need a therapeutic output. Now I'm not bitching about a troubled life or anything but come on who doesn't need to get their thoughts out especially when there is no one to listen? I'm not a loner but I have trust issues you can say... plus, does anyone really like hearing the problems of their friends? I mean honestly?

Okay... well I am one of those people who genuinely care about other's problems so that makes me a listener. But the problem is that I'm always listening, always caring, always supporting, but who the hell is my listener? No one... well that's not entirely true I do have friends who listen but I mean because of the trust issues I hide a lot of crap from them. This is not fair to them and not helpful to my mental health so now we've come full circle on why I'm starting this thing.

Now I guess you have to wonder why my mom isn't my listener since that's her biological duty as a mother to be my listener. Well... she has her own issues and being a mother is one of those issues. To sum it up she is a selfish creature who treats strangers with more caring than her own daughter. A normal person might have reported her for neglect a long time ago but let's face it I'm not normal I've never been normal and I think people who want to be normal are just lying to themselves.

I guess I painted a bad picture of my mom so let me clear it up. She's not a bad person but she's not a typical mother. For example, when I was 15 I stayed out all night till about 3am. The next day you'd think I'd get it but instead she didn't realize I was out. Plus when I asked if I did it again would she care, she simply said that she trusted me and knew I was street smart enough to not do anything stupid.

Maybe someone will understand when I say her profession is a Nurse. I thought her behavior was unique until at a yearly hospital x-mas party I asked peers about their mothers. Turns out this neglectful nature is not uncommon among nurses. They all trust us and know we won't do anything stupid.

So perhaps someone might be saying I had the ideal teen years going out when I wanted without ever having a curfew. (I'll leave that answer to another post) But the truth is that because of this independence I was forced to grow up quicker. It was like since no one was saying they are responsible for me I have to be responsible for myself. And I wasn't entirely unprepared thanks to my mother's blunt nature I knew the facts of life at age 6 all about STDs at age 9 and I could dress a wound better than a school nurse since the age of 3.

I was set for life but that only made me realize that my mom wasn't set for life. Even though now she is more independent in those early years she always needed support. Impulsively she would latch onto the wrong kind of support until our emancipation when she latched onto me.

Now I think she's alright and even though I still can't trust her it's not that bad anymore but she still doesn't know anything about me.

In order to understand me you have to understand the duality of my relationship with people. There's the real me then there's the me with just my mom, just my dad, just my family in general, just with friends, just with lovers, and just with school people. I'm never the real me and that's a defense mechanism I picked up since I can remember.

Well there you have it I'm a weird cat on an earthbound moon waiting to be called home.