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,

Just to let you know what my depression and worries have been about so you don't

feel alone. I grew up in a SERIOUSLY dysfunctional family. I love my mom, but

she didn't like me. She loved me...I am told. It's a 50-50 on whether I really

believe that.

My mom died from breast cancer on my son's 13th birthday. I have been chastised

from my family because I did not drop everything and rush to her side. I have

also been chastised because I haven't told my son NOR my husband that my mom

died on that day. I kept the grief to myself and informed them later the next

day that she passed that day. I did not want my son growing up knowing Grandma

passed away on his birthday. I have been warned that as soon as my sister or

mom's husband gets my son alone, they are planning to tell him that Grandma died

on his birthday! I don't know why this is so important to them but it is.

When the news came that day of her passing and I would not cry on the phone to

the family. My family was upset about that. I was in the middle of a birthday

party. In fact, we were just cutting the cake when the phone rang with the news

from my brother. I was commanded to be at my mothers funeral come hell or high

water. I had no choice in this matter! The family was completly pist off that I

wasn't there at that moment in time.

From the time I grew up to this moment as an adult, I have been the family scape

goat. Everything was blamed on me. I was the one that started everything. Please

believe me when I say that if there was some way HUMANLY possible to blame me

for what went wrong in the world, let alone their lives, I DID get that blame.

I was not going to put myself in a position where there was so much stress going

on already that my mere pressence added more. I felt it truely best to to stay

behind. I wanted mom to die in a peaceful surrounding. Not one filled with

tension and most probably fighting.

I had seen my mom the month before she died. I knew it was the last time I would

see her alive. I drove to where she was staying and visited her for hours. I

gave her my entire bottle of percocet, ativan and some sleeping aid as she was

out of hers, in another state and not doing well. Sue for me doing so, but my

mom needed what I had so I gave her what she needed.

Anyway, my family has tried to hold my mom's funeral without me at least once.

IN fact I am not even sure my mom hasn't been buried yet. She was obviously

cremated. I really got nothing of mom's belongings because I " wasn't there and

no one knew what I would want " when they were throwing her things away. My

sisters and 2 neices split my mom's wedding set.I feel very hurt about that. I

guess they think I didn't love mom enough to deserve some cherished by her. But

I did manage to get a ring that her and I share the birthstone of. I had to

almost beg, but I got it. I was left a few things mom packed away about 10

years ago and put my name on. Thank you very much for those. I treasure them.

, I do not regret not being there the day my mom died. I talked to her

on the phone. She was in a coma for weeks before she died. She knew I was on the

phone. That was good for me. My mom came to me in a dream several days after

she died. When I awoke that morning I could smell my mom in the room. I could

still feel her holding me. She was there.

My problem is 2 fold. I am upset with myself that I didn't do more for my mom

when she was alive. Even if she treated me pretty unfairly, I feel I still

should have put myself out there more for her, no matter how she treated me.

And I am SCARED to death I am going to die of breast cancer. October being

breast cancer month doesn't help any. I have been on the phone to the cancer

hotline SO MUCH and SO MANTY TIMES and they have suggested grievence counceling.

I was also seeing a therapist about my family relationship LONG before mom died

or got sick and the therapist and I decided the I should do the most Icould for

my mom without putting myself into a compromising postion. Actually the

therapist thought I should drop all communication with my mom and I was NOT

willing to do that. I sent her a card a week, every week for a year.Told her I

loved here and was thinking of her everyday.

Might I also add that I was told by my family what type of relationship I could

have with my mom. I HAD to talk to her once a week. I was NOT allowed to talk

about my health, my son or his health, my husband, my family, my house or my

life. I was NOT allowed to ask her about her health or her cancer treatments but

if she wanted to talk about them, I must listen. I was not allowed to advise

her on pain treatment options or pain pills to ask the doctor for. I was not to

talk about my moms' cancer to her at all. Some how my mom's cancer and my

pancreatitis became some sort of " who was more sick than who " contst. It never

was to me, but my family made it that way..

So I sit here and cry and sob and hurt so terribly at the type of daughter I

must have been to her. I think to myself that no matter how horrible things

were, I should have just sucked them up and been a better daughter, no matter

what. Then I heard a preacher on tv saying that as long as you wear your

feelings on your sleeves the devil can come in and make it all WORSE for you.

That as long as you know you did the best you could, nothing else matters. I

can not believe how much those words helped me. I swear he was talking only to

me. Or so it seemed.

I am not inline for more surgery but I do know what the feels like. All I can

tell you is that if you put yourself in God's hands, He will make it all better

for you. He has a plan for all of us. A reason for all we go through and endure.

I can't tell you what it is, but there is a plan.

Thanks for letting me rant and rave here. Feels goods sometimes to get that out

to someone else. I almost feel like I am doing an injustice to my mom for

speaking like that about her, but it is the way I feel and the way I saw things

growing up and grown up, as well and my grandparents, aunts and cousin. I was

shipped off to them every summer because mom's husband didn't want me around. So

I had the best summers and the most love I ever felt 3 months a year. There

were of course great times with my mom too, I just totally disappointed her in

the way I grew up, the way I married and the way I am rasing my son. Oh

well....you can't please everyone I am told.

be good to yourself. Don't be so hard on yourself. I told you all

this so you will know that other people are hurting too and you are not alone.

If we all ban together we can help each other. If we single ourselves out, we

do more harm to ourselves. There is strength in numbers. I also thank God for

this board!Things will get better one day.

Love to you!!!!!

Sandy in Ca

-------------- Original message --------------

Your are right, I do have a hard time talking about my feelings,

especially bad feeling, or fearful ones. That is why I write. I

have been riting since I was 8 years old. Have had several published

in local and state mags. It is my release. I scribble my feelings

in this little journal, some I share but most are just my own

personal release. Like a diary I guess, that rhymes or haiku's.

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