My home life is bad. Really bad and has been for most of my life. The happiest times have been when I’ve lived far away from family. My innate conscious and deep spiritual roots have not allowed me to ignore the needs of generational caregiving crossing four generations and branching out to family by marriage only. I am not a willing servant. Somehow I feel that I should be , which presses guilt into my an already overloaded emotional state.
When invited yesterday to be a contributor I became excited. Here would be a place where I can, in guarded anonymity, pour out my struggles and, more importantly, share wisdom gained from experiences. Little did I know that I would spend the entire night in a vivid dreamworld that illuminated the depth and width of how I feel at home.
As long as I can remember I have never felt loved, appreciated or wanted by my Mother. This was evident as a child when she either allowed me to be with her in a home where the various stepfathers could abuse me in every way imaginable or pawn me off to my various grandparents. Creating an adult who feels that nothing is ever good enough, who feels like a fulfillment of disappointment , and who lives to find some glimmer of appreciation and love from the person who should give this freely is created by the life I’ve led.
Nothing I do is good enough for my Mom. Nothing that I’ve accomplished is worthy of praise. No matter the lengths that I’ve gone through and the sacrifices I’ve made I remain in a perpetual state of disappointment to her. Some of her life long friends have called her out on this. I’ve accomplished so many praiseworthy things. These include earning four college degrees, becoming a college professor, serving in the military, being a professional athlete on the national level, awards that number in the hundreds and so much more. None of it is appreciated by my Mom.
Last night I had a very real and vivid dream about visiting a small town that I know quite well. Everyone was supportive, happy, attentive, and loving. Everywhere I went in this town I was greeted by a warmth that left no doubt that I was loved and interest in the various aspects of my life was genuine. They even helped me to prepare to return home only to have every attempt fail, yet every time I was sent on my way it was with the invitation to please move to the town as quickly as possible.
Imagine that – being where I am appreciated rather than hated.
This is how I imagine the next life. I think that I’m fulfilling a service to this woman to get her through life. Those who have appreciated me and loved me will one day welcome me into their arms again in a higher level of living. I somehow think my Mom will be there, but somehow put in her place and with the loss of control over anyone else, save herself.
Just so you, the reader knows, I’m very aware of how enabling, dysfunctional, and co-dependent all of this is. I am living in response to a higher authority in my life. The maker of the Way. The whispering of all that is good and right telling me to have forbearance. If I don’t I know to the very depths of my soul that I will learn this in some other way, which I don’t want. I can’t know how this will happen. Would it be through reincarnation to have to suffer through horrific trials again? Would I be required to finish my servanthood in the next realm? Best to listen now and fulfill the requirement as best I can.
Be around the people and in the places that feed you as much as possible while somehow living your mission
