“If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere.”


Photo: Mitzgami/Instagram

Not this New York. This New York.


(Mother Nature Network) Upstate New York.

Yes, I moved to New York. To be closer to my mom, to have a support system I failed to find in DC, to pay off debt, to save, to live a more meaningful, joyful, peaceful life. I said I’d never move here. It speaks volumes of my desperation that I’m here. Not that Rochester’s a bad place. Not that my mom’s a bad person. She loves me, as much as she can love anyone when she doesn’t love herself. As with my sister and dad, she doesn’t love  me unconditionally. Why is this conditional love so common among family? Not condition, really, but a grudging love, an envious, angry, bitter, impatient, and competitive love. Is it a narcissistic, masochistic, passive-aggressive strain that’s passed down through generations, or a more recent construct?

Whatever the case, like Obi Wan Kenobi, she’s my only hope. OK, that’s a tad fatalistic. Still, ten days here and I had to cancel what was to be our first “Girls’ Night” at my new place tonight because I need a break. I want to be there for her as much as I need her help. I absorb people’s energy, however, and she oozes negativity from her pores. I understand. I know why she sees the bad in everything, but I won’t subject myself to it without end.

I can’t.











Lack of communication is unhealthy.

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