Labyrinth of the Mind

My birthday is Friday. As a Leo I have always made my birthday a whole August thing. August 1st is the first day of my birthday month. I don’t let anyone forget it. This year has been a little different. It’s not just my birthday month anymore. It is also the month my mom almost died. It is the month my mom survived something that has killed many people before.

My mom asked me if I wanted a birthday party this year and I kind of laughed because…NO WAY! I still blame myself for my moms accident. They say that stress can cause an aneurysm to rupture. My mom had been under a lot of stress last year and on top of it, I was adding to the stress by planning a birthday party. The morning that my mom and I had gotten into a little spat. I got mad at her because she asked me a party question. I don’t know why I was so irritable that morning. Honestly, I stayed pretty irritable in those days.

I feel like the stress of my birthday party is what tipped her over and caused the aneurysm to rupture. I don’t know if there is any truth to it, but I still blame it.

I also feel like more things are on me than used to be. Like, not only am I the one responsible for keeping my mom happy, I am also responsible for doing things that she used to do with ease. It’s odd how the image of my mom in my head has changed. I have always seen her as this strong woman that could face anything thrown at her. I still believe that, I know my mom is strong because look at what she survived. But I also see the fragile side of her now. I see the child she used to be. I see the individual who is also experiencing life for the first time. I probably know just about as much as my mom does now.

My mom is in her 60s. I am going to be 41 Friday. I have reached the part where I am as much of an adult as my mom. The only difference is I don’t have kids or a husband to take care of. I am still kind of alone in that aspect and I am okay with being alone. My mom has never been alone. She met my dad when she was 16 and married him when she was 18. She moved out of her parents house and moved in with her husband. She lived with him until the day he died. That is why I feel so guilty when I want my own life that doesn’t always involve my mom. I can do life alone, I have been raised by the world to do so. My mom has always had so many people around her and now most of them are either gone, or don’t come around anymore. I feel responsible for that…for her.

I feel like I am never going to escape this way of thinking.