Theres a joke about how people go to therapy and come out blaming their mother for everything bad thing in their life. I had wished all my life that were the case here, at least there would be a glimmer of hope for change, for growth. There would be a chance that I was wrong about how I was feeling and what I was thinking, that there were real reasons that could explain it all.
In my case, I have to murder a beautiful dream that I held so close to me that it grafted onto my heart. It hurts to see a hope die with everyday that passes with no acknowledgement of my existence, another affirmation that I wasn’t worth the time and the effort because I had nothing to barter with. I should count it as a good thing because it lights up the lies and ploys but then I’m stuck with that knowledge that keeps giving me pain.
I’ve learned not to see the twisted face of denial. I believe that kind of ‘mothering’ deserves the hate from their children and for generations, should be an example of the most heinous type of “mother”. ** The following is a letter,(most likely one of many) to my MN birth giver. I have recently made the decision to go No Contact and am working on my healing process.
You are no “mother” to me. You are not capable of loving like a mother, of caring like a mother. I have suffered because of it and have lived with results all my life. You have rooted insecurity and doubt in me to where i wasnt sure of myself, so i needed you more. you didnt expect me to be bright, or to see through your mask and when you saw i could, you threw me aside like trash. the way you always have without a decnt look back. Like a mother. You should not be excused because of your bad childhood, I wore that stain too. Thanks to you. You had no problem lying to me, to my brother, to anyone who would listen to your woes and then taking back everything you said. A game I played without knowing the rules and was set up to fail. Humiliation was my reward and mockery of everything i stand for. I dont want your apology, ill never think it sincere. I would doubt everything you say, i would believe others before i believed you. Your words mean nothing to me and because of you i will always see this viciousness in women, this insecure jealousy that runs through your icy viens. I dont know how you are still alive, by sheer force of follish will, i suppose. Like your dear departed husband. Oh, how good you must have looked to everyone else because you took care of him. Something you couldnt do for my father, you do for a rapist and molester and batterer. How terrible for my father to fall in love with you, a heartless cruel bitch. He died loving you, you fucking sadist and you took no notice unless it was convenient enough to make yourself feel better about yourself. just like you took no notice of raising my brother apart. but because its all about you and your selfish feeling and ideas, we suffered and a relationship is lost. You make sure of that, dont you? even if you have to lie and manipulate us against one another. Whoever fucked you up is probably dead by now and can’t be held accountable for the significant damage that you have caused to me with your thoughtlessness and your abuse. And why would you own anything when you had a scapegoat. You made sure i knew i was the bad daughter, the one who tried to seduce your husband so you would go running back to my drug addict father and you told everyone else that same story until it was fact to them. so they couldn’t be bothered by my silent screams for help. Taking my brother away wasn’t enough, you had to destroy the other mother relationship i had, grandma. Aside from my father’s mother, she was my only safety. you knew that. you wanted me to be punished and made sure to let them know that. Just like the violent babysitter. I hate you with such a burning in gut, that it makes me vomit. YOu should be locked away somewhere, away from people you will hurt. my father and your husband were too weak to confront you, so you would provoke and use it to your advantage. how sick is it that you would put the lives of your children at risk by marrying someone you knew was sick. YOu knew what he was doing to me, coming in to my room, blowing kisses at me when he thought you weren’t looking. you didn’t give a damn until you started to feel threatened. then instead of protecting me from him, you send me away alone and tell me you don’t believe me. so tell me how I’m not supposed to hate you, you useless piece of shit of a woman, not even that. youre hollow inside, empty of anything good and pure and loving.
Ive heard the stories about your childhood and so fucking what. you were given chances to get yourself free and healed, but you project your insecurities and hatefullness on to me.
i wonder, were you disappointed that i didn’t succeed in killing myself? not nowhere near as disappointed as i was, it meant at some point in my life i would see you again and remain ignored. people couldn’t understand what i was saying but then i realized they were only giving you what you needed, backup for your insanity. i bet if they knew how much you talked behind their back to others, they would change their tune about being so fucking wonderful.
God transformed my brother and brought him back from drugs, not you. Youre the reason for his addiction. God blessed him with a forgiving spirit and you abuse him and criticise him and try to embarrass him in front of others. youve never supported him. even when you offer “help”, you keep score with your children. you dont deserve us and you better pray to God that you don’t outlive him because hes the one who’s going to be taking care of you. if you are in my hands, you would be rotting in the cheapest nursing home i could find and id watch you rot from afar. like you did to me. except i’ve survived your abusive ways and your tricks for attention.
I never want to see you again, hear from you in any way shape or form. you are fucking joke as a mother, as a woman and as a human being. nothing you do is for others, there is always a price.
even if you had to abandon your children to get your way and didn’t even think of how we felt about anything. we were just parts of you, for your pathetic use and when you found that you couldn’t control me, that i was asking too many questions, knew too much. probably more than i should, but took no care in protecting me from even that. How many years did i spent being hit and yelled at and bullied; running after you and begging for information why you wouldn’t give me the time of day while you lived your disgusting fairy tale. You have learned nothing from your mistakes and then you wonder why you get the feeling that people are only tolerating you, enabling you, The worst kind of people, the followers. but without them, who would feed their gluttonous ego?