Continuation of my mind and why it is warped.

Yes, yesterday's blog was just scratching the service.  It is the truth.  Most daughters have mother issues, but my issues border on emotional abuse.  It has taken my a long, long time to realize that.  I had a therapist tell me that once when I was 18.  I dropped him like a sack of dirt after that one session.  I was a not ready to hear it.  I still remember his words.  "It sounds like you have a controlling, emotional bully."  He had some other not so nice words.  I wish I had stayed with him now.  My college education might have turned out differently if I had. 
Anyways, today's theme is why I really ran the half marathon.  I will get to that in a minute, but first I will address how my world closed in just as it got going.  When I was thinking about the kind of life I wanted and the kind of person I wanted to be, my options were limited.  When you are young, you identify the kind of adult you want to be by deciding what career path to follow.  When I expressed my interests to my mother as a child teenage, or young adult, I got some interesting responses.  Very early on, I wanted to be an actress.  I was told that was a hard life and not to pursue it.  I was told this despite the fact that my mother had a friend in the entertainment biz and that woman was hot to trot to put me in plays.  As I got older, my interests changed.  I wanted to be a meteorologist for the longest time.  I was told that they make no money and I would never get a job so I let go of that dream.  A little later, I said that I wanted to work for the FBI (which would have been perfect considering my gift in emotional intelligence.)  That was met with "You will never get a job.  It is really hard to get one. You have to know someone."  Finally I gave up and decided to be a doctor which was she wanted.  I knew that kind of schooling was not for me.  I got to college and gave up that idea.  I went through major after major and expressed interest in a myriad of majors.  I could not go into government which I loved because according to her, what would do I?  What kind of job would I get with that?  Nothing so I could not do that.  I expressed an interesting in the business school.  Nope again.  Why?  Because my brother for a bachelor's in business management and was working at a rental car place so that was not good.  That was cut off for me too.   So my world got smaller and smaller at a point where it should have been growing bigger and bigger.    Her whole deal the whole time was that getting these jobs was hard work.  The irony of all of it is that I never shy away from hard work.  Quite the opposite.  It enriches me.  (The thrill of giving birth for me is not the thrill of the baby so much--not at the moment anyways, it is the thrill of knowing that I worked as hard as I did to get that baby out!)  Hard work makes me work better so had I been able to open my world up, who knows what I really would have accomplished or what doors I would have opened up for myself.  The sad thing is that I never got to try to find out.  AND just to go on record, I would have made one kick@ss accountant. 
So why did I run the half?  I ran the half because training for it and actually doing it was hard work.  Honestly, getting through the rain that day on a 13.1 mile run was one of the hardest things I have ever done.  I knew that I would never stop running that race no matter what happened, no matter what pain cropped up, and no matter how tired I got.  My mother wanted to close my world in.  At this point in my life, I want to open up what is left for me to open at my age.  That is why I have to run a full marathon.  I have to draw in the hard work.  She took those moments away from me.  She told me not to bother because it was too hard.  I am not afraid of too hard, Mom.  I never have been and never will be.  You are.  I am sorry that you are.  You gave up a long time ago.  I know that now.  Nothing is left in you.  It died a long, long time ago before I was born.  I am not afraid to try.  Trying is the base of hope, and I always have hope.