I have decided that I really need to try to find my mother because it is a wound that is not healing in me. I just have too many questions, too many doubts. There is too much inconsistancy on why she left. Sis says Dad scared her away with a shotgun after locking my bassinet up in the closet. Dad says that he caught her doing drugs. I want her side of the story.

I wasn't very old, between six months and a year, and I have only two pictures of her. I don't remember her, but when I conjure her in my mind, I envision an beautiful blonde woman with a gentle smile.

I play out different scenarios in my head, to weigh the benefits (or problems)of meeting her.

Scenario A:

She slams the door in my face, refusing to acknowledge my existance.

Scenario B:

She welcomes me in, and tells me that I was a mistake from her mis-spent youth. And that she never wants to hear from me again.

[Forgive me if I don't want to be rejected by the same person in a lifetime.]

Scenario C:

She breaks down and cries. She wants a relationship with me that I am not positive I could give her. She introduces me to my five half-siblings and they resent and/or love me.

Scenario D:

She's on drugs still.

Scenario E:

She died.

I'm also scared about the story she might tell. What if I end up hating my father?

I spent a lot of time searching for the love that should have come from her in the wrong places and people. I never thought, in my subconcious, that I was worthy of decent people, so I looked for those that treated me like shit. Or I wanted love from those people that could/would never be able to love me in return.

Sometimes, I feel as if I am an aching abyss of need.

Maybe, though, as much as I fear being rejected, perhaps I fear being accepted even more.

Sorry. I am not allowing comments on this post because the subject matter is extremely touchy for me. If you have comments, and I like you, feel free to e-mail me.