To My Mother,
I am angry with you! The way you treated me as a child was WRONG! How could you tell me the things you did? And treat me like a piece of shit? What made you think that was OK? I was just a child. All I ever really wanted was to be loved. Why couldn’t you love me? Was I that horrible of a child? You called me a worthless, failure. You called me ugly and fat. You made me believe that I couldn’t do anything right. How could you do that? You beat me up a lot too, but that pain heals. The words hurt the most. The beatings put such fear in me that I never knew what to expect when I came home. Would you be partially nice or would you be going off your rocker? Would you chase me around with a knife or hit me? Thankfully I eventually got stronger then you. I could hold your wrists until you calmed down. I could hold my door shut so you couldn’t come in my room, when you were angry. I SHOULD NOT HAVE HAD TO DO THIS! You were my MOTHER! You should have been protecting me, not the person I needed protection from. How could you treat your child, your own flesh and blood this way? I understand now that you were projecting your insecurities onto me, but I still don’t understand. I am insecure. I hate myself. I cannot love myself because I was never shown how, but I would NEVER treat someone the way you treated me. You don’t understand what you did to me. If you did, you would have to admit that you were wrong, and you would never do that. The only time you ever wanted to spend time with me was if I was spending it with someone else and their mom. Then you got jealous. Then you wanted to spend time with me. And you were really good at taking care of me when I was sick, but otherwise, you didn’t have a clue! You wouldn’t even get me help, when I started cutting myself. Instead you yelled at me. Do you remember what you said? You yelled at me, “what is WRONG with you?” Do you know how that made me feel? It made me feel like every single thing about me was wrong. Do you know that I still feel like everything is wrong with me. Even the things I’m good at, I can’t be proud of. I believe if it’s easy for me, then it must be easy for everyone. Now I have to learn how to grieve the childhood, you took from me. I have to go through times of being hospitalized and having intense therapy, to deal with all the shit you put me through. Do you know that because you couldn’t give me affection, I crave it all the time? Do you know that because of what you did, I will always have a hole in my heart, even once I have dealt with a lot of these things. That hole, that missing piece will always be there. Do you know that I HATE mother’s day with a passion? I hate that all the cards are mushy and everyone talks about how their mother was such a rock in their lives. I can’t ever say that! You were a thorn in mine. So you get a phone call, and even that is a pain for me. You have no idea what you’ve done to me.
I could write so much more, but I have to stop. There’s no point, because you will never get it!