Confession Number Three: I Still Want My Mom

I was taken away from my mom when I was twelve. That was, at this point, fifteen years ago. For all of those fifteen years, I never stopped wishing I was back with my mom. I still find myself crying for my mom when I'm in the midst of incredible hardships. The hardest part about wanting her as an adult is making the choice to not indulge in that desire, for the sake of my wellbeing. It would absolutely stunt me in more ways than one, and it would be completely detrimental to my mental health. I visit her once a year, if I can afford it, and even then, I am an absolute wreck and a whirlwind of emotions when I'm with her. Even more so when I have to leave her. I can't seem to win - being around her destroys me, and being away from her destroys me. At the end of the day, though, I still just want my mom, and I have no idea how to soothe that part of me.