what I don't want to talk about

I am going to visit my mom tomorrow. I haven't started writing my letter to her as a friend suggested. By writing everything out I might be able to prepare to discuss things with her. I haven't felt like tackling it, it does not feel like a hot topic right now. I have found numerous other things to do this week. I have increased my sleeping (definite sign of avoidance for me.) I only write this now at the prodding of a reader.

I often feel detached from undesirable subjects. It feels like my head is elongated several feet. My chin is in the normal place but the top of my head is way up above me. My consciousness is trying to escape my body. Or my feelings. I barely feel connected to my hands, let alone anything or anyone else. But I will try...

Questions for my mother
Why did you keep me from knowing my father? I would feel so much more complete if you had tried and he had rejected us/me. Instead I don't know who I am. My whole life feels like a pretend lie. Something was missing. I didn't always know what it was but it always affected me.

Was I really treated differently by Ben as my grandmother alleges? She goes on and on about how my brother and sister got everything they wanted and everything they wanted to do. Is it true? I don't want to buy into anymore lies I want the truth.

Why did you send me back to that school? I changed a little every day. Am I that good of an actor that you never noticed that everything was wrong? When I applied to high school (math/science advanced college prep school that was harder than college) after my interview I remember that you asked why I didn't tell them about the plays I had been in, or the adults that would call the house to ask me computer questions. Or the books that I had read or that I learned to disassemble and reassemble bicycles when I was in the fourth grade.

Why didn't you encourage me to talk about, well anything? Was it too hard? Was there too many things wrong to address any of them?
Did you try to help and I don't remember?
This sounds possible to me. I have caught myself before rewriting my memories. Sometimes covering things up and sometimes making memories worst.

Why did we not go back to the psychologist that we saw, together?
When did we see that psychologist?
My timeline is messed up I have no idea when that was.

Was it before or after I threatened suicide?
Was it before or after I pushed you so far that you broke the vacuum cleaner?
Was it before or after I was legally adopted/changed my name?
I remember telling the judge that I wanted him to be my dad and that I wanted my name to be Ireland. That was what I was really after. My name to be the same. Everyone has their name of the stupid card on their stupid desk. I stare at it all day long. And it is different than yours. I am the only one with a different last name than everyone else in his family.

I can look ahead and see that I don't want to pass this on to anyone else. I want to do something about this. I don't want my son picking up on this big weird problem that keeps his dad distant from him. Why Why Why have I let this go on so long? Why did YOU let this go on so long?