not my mother...

 Last night was once again, a restless night.  I dreamed that I went to see my mother at the dementia facility.

Only it was not my mother, it was a completely different woman, yet my family could not understand why I did not recognize her...in my dream, I was so confused and irritated because "this woman was not my mother"...but I could not tell them any differently....

I woke up and pondered that dream.

Yes, my mother now has dementia, and she IS different than she was...she is now lost in her own head...

I feel so bad for her dementia,  but then, I am glad, karma, I tell myself.  But the fact of the matter is....I somehow still want to love her....

I want to deny her abuse,  I mean, how can a mother, hate and treat her child, one she gave birth too...how can that be?  She does not hate her daughter and son with the horrible abuser she was married too.

How could she bad mouth my own bio father (who was nothing but good to her and never laid a finger on her) yet love the kids of the man who was horribly abusive and cruel to me, and to herself...How can that be??? It makes no sense to me....nothing makes sense...

I am forever lost in the "why" mode?   My brother looks almost exactly like Ronald, his abusive cruel and demented father, yet my mother loves him the most...the golden child we call him...Doesn't she see that horrible mans face when she looks at David?   

What was wrong with me?   I didn't ask to be born, nobody does, so why was I the whipping child of the family???

sigh...so this is where I am at today.

S