I have been saying it jokingly for eons. "My mom should be locked up". Well, that day has come. She called me today from the counties psychiatric facility. It seems that during a therapy session, she "flipped out" (her words) and they saw fit to lock her up.
"tell me Padie, how does this make you feel??"
Well, I will say that I am not ashamed that she is there. I think that this may be a vital step in her learning to cope with the demons that haunt her. I will say that I am glad that she is there and not trying to take her own life. I will also say that it makes me so sad to hear her voice on the phone, she is scared and she is scarred and she sounds so much like a little girl. But she is safe and for that, I am thankful.
She asked me a question today that has been running around in my head ever since. In her scared little girl voice she asked:
"Do you think we could ever be friends?"
I answered of course, but this question got me to thinking. She and I have never really been friends. She has done things in the past to me that no friend would ever do, hence why she isn't my "friend". But, moms and daughters are kind of supposed to be friends...right? I dont guess I would know. I mean I have a mom, but she is broken, and I have friends that are closer to me then family, but I have never thought of mom in the friend role.
"I am sure that we will be one day" is the answer I gave, in case anybody was wondering. I am praying that one day we are.
I wish that I had a time machine so that I could go back and rescue her from that hell before it even happened. Maybe I would help her run away, or I would go to her biological father and tell him to man up and take his daughter so that she wouldn't have to face what she did. Maybe I would go to her piece of shit step father/monster and tell him that if he saw fit to lay a single finger on her or talk to her in any other way but loving that I would personally rip off his balls and shove them down his throat. Or maybe I would just do the world a favor and end him so that he could take his vile ass back to the hole from which he came...yeah maybe.
But, you know what they say..."If wishes were horses, Beggars would ride."
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
What am I 'spossed to do with it?
There is a point that all of us get to where we feel like we just cant take one more step. We do of course, I mean there are places to be, people to see, things to be done. Sometimes, I feel like I am running full steam head on into a brick wall, only to pick myself up and do it again.
April is a bad month for me. It has been and it might be forever. I deal mostly, there are days that I feel like I have been punched in the stomach, but all and all I deal. The week before the birthday of the sweet baby that we lost is the hardest part. Full of tears at the drop of a hat, temper tantrums and just plain ol' run of the mill depression. "I will be ok..." and I will be. Sometimes I just need time.
This April I get some added baggage.
My mom is damaged. I dont mean to say that in a way that sounds like I hate her, or I am being mean to her, I mean it in the way that I pity her. Our relationship was never what I feel it should have been. I feel that I was never good enough for my mom. It was when I was older that I learned that my mom suffered abuse at the hands of her step-father that would rival horror movies. The beatings and emotional abuse suffered though most of her childhood ruined her for the rest of her life. The failure to deal with it leaves her fragmented, like the pieces of a broken mirror. Up until this point in her life, she would tell you that her childhood was "sunshine and roses". There wasnt any abuse, what are you talking about, we had a great life. I am sure the picture of the life she wanted to live was great, the picture that she made to escape her world of terror. I have heard detailed accounts from a person who witnessed the abuse first hand. I have heard that my mother wasnt even referred to by her name, she was called "the Ni**er". My mom called me the other day to tell me that she is in a recovery house for people that have suffered severe abuse. She called me to tell me that she understands that she hasnt been the best to me, but it was because she didnt know how to be. For the very first time in my life, she was honest with me about her past. She, from her own mouth told me of a couple of accounts that left me physically ill. In my mind, I saw my mother suffering, stuck in the place that she couldnt ever seem to escape. I am thankful for the breakthrough and the progress that she is making, but now I have to deal with my own feelings.
To my grandfather: Did abusing her make you feel like a bigger man? Were you really so twisted that this brought you gratification? You owe me a decent mother, for creating the one that I have. To think that even after you died, she still only talked about you with the highest regard, like you were going to abuse her from the grave, makes me sick.
To my Gramma: I think I am more angry with you, and for me to type this hurts my heart. For someone, especially a mother, to stand by and allow this to happen to their child disgusts me. What was the gain in allowing it to go on? 5 years ago, I dont think I could have understood the feelings that I do now, but having my children has changed me. I am so angry to think that a mother would not act in protecting her child. I would have given my life for Amelia, and I would to this day for Lilly. I have said, and will say again, not only would I die for my children, I would kill for them too, and to think that some asshole who thinks he is going to lay a hand on my child better have his affairs in order, because I WILL BE GODDAMNED IF HE LIVES TO TELL ABOUT IT.
To the aunt that I loath: I think I pity you because you are the product of a monster. I know all about you trying to continue the abuse of my mother, I know all the lies you spread. I also know that you are just as evil as he is. You may not want to cross paths with me anytime soon, I have this twitch that cause me to punch someone over and over without the ability to control it.
To the family that witnessed this and did nothing about it and still wonders why my mom acts the way that she does: DUH! you make me sick. I am cutting you out of my life like the cancer you are. Do you not realize that it wasnt only a child that was ruined? A mother, MY mother was ruined while you stood by and watched, you twisted fucks. Not one of you had the decency to say anything to anyone?
After hearing from my mom the other day, I had the visions of her abuse rattling around in my head and I kept asking myself "what am I 'spossed to do with it?" I guess time will tell.
April is a bad month for me. It has been and it might be forever. I deal mostly, there are days that I feel like I have been punched in the stomach, but all and all I deal. The week before the birthday of the sweet baby that we lost is the hardest part. Full of tears at the drop of a hat, temper tantrums and just plain ol' run of the mill depression. "I will be ok..." and I will be. Sometimes I just need time.
This April I get some added baggage.
My mom is damaged. I dont mean to say that in a way that sounds like I hate her, or I am being mean to her, I mean it in the way that I pity her. Our relationship was never what I feel it should have been. I feel that I was never good enough for my mom. It was when I was older that I learned that my mom suffered abuse at the hands of her step-father that would rival horror movies. The beatings and emotional abuse suffered though most of her childhood ruined her for the rest of her life. The failure to deal with it leaves her fragmented, like the pieces of a broken mirror. Up until this point in her life, she would tell you that her childhood was "sunshine and roses". There wasnt any abuse, what are you talking about, we had a great life. I am sure the picture of the life she wanted to live was great, the picture that she made to escape her world of terror. I have heard detailed accounts from a person who witnessed the abuse first hand. I have heard that my mother wasnt even referred to by her name, she was called "the Ni**er". My mom called me the other day to tell me that she is in a recovery house for people that have suffered severe abuse. She called me to tell me that she understands that she hasnt been the best to me, but it was because she didnt know how to be. For the very first time in my life, she was honest with me about her past. She, from her own mouth told me of a couple of accounts that left me physically ill. In my mind, I saw my mother suffering, stuck in the place that she couldnt ever seem to escape. I am thankful for the breakthrough and the progress that she is making, but now I have to deal with my own feelings.
To my grandfather: Did abusing her make you feel like a bigger man? Were you really so twisted that this brought you gratification? You owe me a decent mother, for creating the one that I have. To think that even after you died, she still only talked about you with the highest regard, like you were going to abuse her from the grave, makes me sick.
To my Gramma: I think I am more angry with you, and for me to type this hurts my heart. For someone, especially a mother, to stand by and allow this to happen to their child disgusts me. What was the gain in allowing it to go on? 5 years ago, I dont think I could have understood the feelings that I do now, but having my children has changed me. I am so angry to think that a mother would not act in protecting her child. I would have given my life for Amelia, and I would to this day for Lilly. I have said, and will say again, not only would I die for my children, I would kill for them too, and to think that some asshole who thinks he is going to lay a hand on my child better have his affairs in order, because I WILL BE GODDAMNED IF HE LIVES TO TELL ABOUT IT.
To the aunt that I loath: I think I pity you because you are the product of a monster. I know all about you trying to continue the abuse of my mother, I know all the lies you spread. I also know that you are just as evil as he is. You may not want to cross paths with me anytime soon, I have this twitch that cause me to punch someone over and over without the ability to control it.
To the family that witnessed this and did nothing about it and still wonders why my mom acts the way that she does: DUH! you make me sick. I am cutting you out of my life like the cancer you are. Do you not realize that it wasnt only a child that was ruined? A mother, MY mother was ruined while you stood by and watched, you twisted fucks. Not one of you had the decency to say anything to anyone?
After hearing from my mom the other day, I had the visions of her abuse rattling around in my head and I kept asking myself "what am I 'spossed to do with it?" I guess time will tell.
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