It’s no secret. My mother wasn’t “all there.” Heck – is your mother?

Odds aren’t in your favor. Perhaps it’s heuristics (which are very personal) but I’ve noticed that mothers (females) seem to be real good at torturing those around them.

Maybe it was hormones. Genetics. Perhaps it was my dad, or me, who drove her over the edge. Most likely we were key ingredients for her insanity soup.  She had a good heart. A great heart. I never forget that.

I think she cared too much, was too sensitive, definitely too horny. She was prone to addictions. With all the tribulations we went through, I never doubted she loved me; her shit just got in the way.

Her mind, her thoughts were her worst enemies.

Mom did teach (mostly through mistakes). Some of her bad habits are my own. I’ve learned to detect them, analyze and eradicate (mostly) with a cold, objective eye.

Even as a kid, I’d watch her steam head-on into a train wreck. Instead of helping I would sit back and take notes. It felt safer.

Hell, I’m not Superman. I can’t stand in front of a locomotive and stop it. That’s how you die.

So, what did she teach me? What can all mothers teach us?

Random Thoughts:

1). People Are Going to Hurt You. Be prepared. It’s what I call the “yellow sticky.” People create stains you can’t wash away, only fade. Humans are a constant source of disappointment. I’ve learned to begin each relationship with a new, crisp mental white sheet. I leave room for the stain to occur, because there’s a beauty to it. Each stain makes you wiser, more empathetic, interesting, engaging, experienced, open, vulnerable. Unlike mom, you can’t take human relations too seriously or the stains will never fade. Learn to see the comedy in each relationship. It’s there.

  You create yellow sticky.

2). People Are Going to Surprise You. At age 16 (and at her sweet 16 party, great timing) my mother found out her mother wasn’t dead. She was insane and under sedation at a Long Island sanatorium. Surprise!! Not all surprises are going to be be BAD. Give others the benefit of the doubt and you may positively surprised. Or not. Like mom. Yikes.

3). Perfection is a Fool’s Game. Mom always felt she was never “perfect” enough. Her breasts were too small, she was too dumb, her hair wasn’t right. Exhausting. Appreciating imperfection is the way to form lasting bonds with others. After awhile, you’ll see the perfection in imperfection. Your mind will be at ease. Those who believe they’re perfect stop learning, growing, thriving. Step back. You’ve seen it.

4). Bad Habits are Expensive. Mom was a lifelong chain smoker. A major contributor to her early death. You notice the price of a carton of cigarettes? How much are you spending daily on bad habits? How much will your bad habits cost you financially, in the future? Hundreds of thousands of dollars. I’m not doing the math. You know this fact already. 

I learned to love mom’s imperfections, deal with her hurt, shake my head at her surprises, stayed away from her bad habits (I never smoked, tried drugs) and feel sorry for her need to be perfect.

What is your psycho mom teaching you?