I keep thinking I will wake up and I will be in an alternate universe. Maybe I will find some green and yellow rings and puddle jump with Polly and Digory into different worlds. Maybe I will find a machine that takes me to the other side of the rift in time and I will see my son dealing with a surreal reality because I am the one who left him … like, in The Leftovers…did anyone watch that?
There are an infinitesimal amount of universes (I feel wrong every time I write the plural form of universe however according to Google, I am right. I feel strongly that it should be universi. I have learned in the last couple of months that if I feel strongly about something, I am wrong. Whether it is the plural form of universe or my ability to complete being a mother to my son, I am wrong. According to some. Maybe I should ask Google if I am a good mother.)
In one universe I have no care in the world and I never have to question myself on things like, “Was I not allowed to complete being a mother to my son due to a callous, personal agenda-pushing judge’s selfish and illogical ruling because I am not a good mother?” In another, I was a strong, emotionally healthy young teenager who never needed to seek approval in the first boy who expressed interest. In another, I went to college in New York and became a single, starving artist residing in Brooklyn, attending auditions, living in a loft with trendy roommates, crying to my mom about never being cast on Broadway, getting drinks with chorus cast members at 1:00 am in a dive, never having children. In yet another, my son and I moved our life to Las Vegas when he was 18 months old and the two of us conquered the West together living in our two bedroom apartment and having a close bond that included smiling and laughing and pure enjoyment of each other.
There is no time rift machine and no yellow rings. Inside the only universe I will ever be allowed to see I said “yes” to abusive men who gave me attention, I left New York to come home to Texas and live with an abuser, I canceled my lease and did not sign my teaching contract in Las Vegas, I was told I am not a good enough mother.
I love my son. My son left me. In this universe.
2 thoughts on “Alternate Universes”
Oh! I so understand the alternate universe pondering. I hate that, it’s so self destructive. I lay awake wondering at which point I made THE critical mistake to lead me here. Abortion at 17, Letting my mother control me, looking for perfect love, settling for “meh” and then being the worst wife ever… 25 years of off and on therapy. Still no real answer. My way of coping is becoming fat and never leaving the house. Don’t do that! And, as we do, that comment is all about me.
That’s ok to make your comment all about you! I started this blog in order to not feel alone. Knowing you are out there coping and self sabotaging along side with me makes me feel better!