No Man’s Land

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In a recent Google search: most of the results displayed involved things like “how to talk to a homeless person” or “things you shouldn’t say homeless people”. But I’m curious – and still left with questions – about how to address my situation.

It’s a weird one.

My car – a Toyota Corolla – is packed to the brim with all my stuff. Books mostly. I’ll never be able to let them go. They’ve been with me through everything. They’re my friends. Ironically enough, however, now they’re weighing me down…

I don’t have family to go to. The one brother that lives in the area already lives in a cramped place with his lady and two kiddos and would never want to share space with his utterly hateful sister. He’d never admit to that. Instead, he’d say something like, “stop being a overdramatic and go back home. Mom’s gonna chill out soon, just ignore her.”

She’s not one to be ignored.

Even though I’ve blocked her number, she continues to call me from random numbers – none of which I answer. Her messages are auditory venom, “where the fuck are you? There’s still some of your shit here and I don’t want to deal with it. CALL ME BACK!” 

However, ignoring is the only defense in my arsenal.

Does anyone else have to avoid their parent[s] at all costs for the sake of wellbeing?

It’s gravely exhausting. Beyond that. It’s inexplicable. It’s the catalyst for constant anxiety. It’s the black bathwater of immersive depression. It’s the root of the incorrect upbringing that I’m trying to amend in my present adulthood. It’s the ingrained fear of others. It’s all I’ve ever known.

What would you do if your mother – a bipolar depressed narcissist – threatens to choke you in your sleep?

What would you do if your mother says, with the utmost conviction, that today would be your last day?

I left.

As I packed my bags, “you’ve been the worst phase of my life. You made your father go away. My one and only love. It’s your fault.”

I just kept on with the packing.

“You’d better hurry the fuck up, too. You’re keeping me up. AND you owe me money for all the time you fucking mooched off my house. You’re so ungrateful.”

Still packing. Still packing. Lugging books from shelves, down flights of stairs, and into my car. Totally tired focus.

All the while I’m craving sleep, and a warm meal, and a restorative shower.

Days later, I don’t have much figured out. And despite the teachings of my mother to never ask for and/or accept anyone’s help, I’ve been doing otherwise. Doing so has been verrrrrry difficult. Even when I use, “I don’t want to be a bother, don’t want to get in your way, don’t want to use up your stuff” as excuses to reject help, they don’t fly. Not anymore.

This is something I need to work on. There’s a lot I need to work on.

But little by little, everything will fall into place as it’s meant to, and I’m blessed to be surrounded by the amount of help that’s come along my way.



30 Replies to “No Man’s Land”

  1. This is so heavy and I want to reach through my computer and hug you! And offer you support, but I’m just a little blogger, and all i can give is my cyber support and tell you that yes, sometimes it is necessary to cut the ties to move to a healthier self! You are so strong for counting your blessings and being positive. You are right, everyone needs to reach out a hand for help and are even stronger for doing so! Courage dear one!

    Liked by 3 people

  2. It can be difficult, but don’t shy away from offered help. And, don’t be afraid to ask for help as well. Find the people who are supportive of you and confide in them. You’re going through some tough stuff but you’re never alone. I hope your situation changes for the better, but in the meantime stay strong and try to be positive. I’m rooting for you! 😀 ❤

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Yeah. I have to avoid my mother for my own sanity/safety, and especially for the safety of my children. Making the break suddenly like that is hard, but it sounds like it needed to happen.

    I’ve been homeless a couple of times in my life. So, here’s some advice. Drop your pride, take all the help you can get. Couch surf for all it’s worth. If the couch belongs to a solid friend, you’re safer there than in your car or in a shelter. Join a cheap gym, if you can swing it, because you can use the showers and bathroom and change rooms and stuff. Much safer than a shelter! You have to stay clean and ‘respectable’ looking if you are going to find a place. Laundromats are your friend. Libraries are your friend. All night diners are your friend.

    Good luck! I really hope you find something soon, because that sucks so bad. Also, hugs, if you want them.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Everything happens for a reason. I’ve sort of stopped trying to decipher the ins and outs of every occurrence and instead just take things as they come and hope for the best and expect the worst. There’s nothing I can do about my mother being a crazy person, but I’m in control of my life so that’s all I can do.
      Thanks for the tips, I’ve been keeping up with all the balancing and it’s pretty exhausting. It’ll be worth it in the end because what hasn’t killed me ought to try harder.
      And thanks for the support.

      Liked by 2 people

  4. This is a tough patch! It’s completely out of sequence to say so but I listened to some of your music about a month back and you have an amazing voice and work with some great musicians! Always remember that there is only “forward.” As toxic as she is, only the parts of her you let become part of your present will remain. Forward!!! Kind regards, MSOC

    Liked by 2 people

    1. MSOC, since you’ve mentioned the singing (thank you, by the way!) a choir buddy of mine shared a relevant piece of advice. “Loads of people have a bad habit of going flat. When singing think up and forward and your voice will follow. Up, up, up and it will happen. But you have to stay focused in order for the drive to push through.”

      Liked by 2 people

  5. I was really moved by your story, and worried reading how your suffered the consequences of your mother’s disorder, but as I read all the supportive comments and your strong determination to step forward, I feel relieved and confident that It’ll be worth it in the end. Keep yourself positive. All the best


    1. Thank you.
      It’s been an arduous learning curve to go against all that I’ve ever known – that everyone is inherently evil and therefore not to be trusted. However, support, whether in big or small amounts, has cast through and never ceases to amaze me.
      That’s not to say that I don’t lose my patience and revert to negi perceptions for everyone and everything. No.
      Just yesterday I was so consumed by sadness and my boyfriend kept feeding me all the most posi words one could hear. I didn’t listen.
      My mind was elsewhere – in a place where everything was dandy and I was the best I could be. That place doesn’t exist and I wish I didn’t know that.


  6. Sending you support and prayer for some measure of peace and hope. And strength to keep moving forward in a positive direction, away from all the negative energy that is stopping you from doing so. I’m heartbroken as I read your post. Wish you well. ❤️🌞


  7. Hang in there. You’re on the right path. My aunt was bipolar and she was toxic. We did not cut ties with her and we paid a heavy price. You’re doing the healthy thing, even though it may not feel like it. Having been in dark places myself, I can say that some days the only thing you can do is put one foot in front of the other. On those days, nurture yourself; be kind to yourself. I can see that you’ve already come a long way, so congratulations! My prayers are with you.


    1. Thank you.
      September is the most bittersweet month of all because it’s the time of year that while it’s great that a new school year begins, it’s also when some of the worst things have happened in the family. My birthday, which is in a couple of weeks, serves as the yearly reminder of when my father disowned me. A reminder that my mother never cared for such a trivial occasion.
      So when a friend’s birthday comes around, I always try to make it as big a deal as possible. To celebrate their survival through another year. To emphasize their tenacity. To make them feel as special as they should. To live vicariously through them. Because I’ve always wished to be that, have that.
      The word family leaves a poor taste in my mouth. Even still, I have faith in all the wonders life has to offer


      1. Unbirthdays are great!
        Gifted myself last night by attending a writing workshop to put things into perspective and get a better idea of what this all means.
        Words are powerful. Sometimes a little too much to bear.
        But soon enough, it’ll all be figured out.
        I want to work on a book… that’s the goal ^.^


  8. This pains me so much!! 😦 hang in there friend.. I really wish I could do more but am not really in any position myself to do so! All I can say is.. Things will get better I’m sure..any time you want to talk it out.. many fellow bloggers including myself are going to be there for you.. Keep writing friend!


  9. I can really see the pain in your lines,I’m just moved by this..I wana do something to you ,but all i can do is to motivate you for better future.Things will get better and you should love being alone also. Just follow your heart and stay happy.Be bold.Whenever you feel low just write something like this and trust me people over here are so helpful and they will support you emotionally..good luck!!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Hi there. I really don t like hearing this kind of stories. Parents are the center of our evolution. They should give us wings and smart advice’s. Sometimes it is not like this, because life is not perfect, and it shouldn’t be. You are strong and that’s the only thing that matter. No matter the ways you will pass over this.
    Kisses and I hope you are ok wherever you are. 🙂


    1. Thank you for your kind words. Yes, indeed, parents should be the ones to lift us up, convey the kind of unconditional love that’ll take a lifetime to find in someone else, protect us from sorrow and malice. However, not all parents do the same and we – children – have to work with the product as if we played Russian Roulette on our way out of the womb. This is how I’ve learned to work it.

      Liked by 1 person

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