Why Did You HATE ME So?

I’ve spent most of my life wondering why you never loved me.

I’ve wondered why you didn’t want my father to love me, and why you didn’t want me to love my father.

I watched you push me away like you pushed him away and I allowed you to turn my daughter on me the way you turned me against my father.

I always felt like you hated me. Since I was 7 years old, I was pretty sure you didn’t want me. You worked a million hours and never wanted to be home with me. I used to cry myself to sleep at night with visions of you in a car accident or a fire and you were never coming home.

My father only tried to do what was best for me; he had no help and no parenting skills of his own. History would repeat as it did for me, with my daughter.

Dozens of hospitalizations and surgeries and calls from hospital staff and both institutional and outpatient therapists, not once did you answer the phone or return a call. As well as 7 years of sobriety and never did you come to support me, see me or help me in any part of my recovery.

But I’ve been out of your life and her life for so long now; I’m interested in hearing all about your success. How much better is life without me? How has my daughter matured in the time that you’ve had alone with her? Tell me how she’s doing at WORK, tell me how self-sufficient she is, and tell me how proud you are of her.

I have contacted her but she hates me. That’s all you. You got what you wanted all along, your second chance… You didn’t change a fucking thing. The only reason she’s not on drugs or drunk is because you made food her addiction instead. If she knew cocaine would help her drop 150 pounds she'd be stealing your checkbook just like I did.

The events of the day that ended my contact with you were truly insane. We were supposed to have Sushi for LUNCH, but you purchased a dinner sized entrée and gave it to her  to eat ON TOP OF the dinner sized entrée she ordered herself. You are feeding her like you did to me. She’s heavier than I ever was. That’s not emotional eating, that’s a LEARNED behavior. You TAUGHT us how to use numb the pain.

You took guardianship of my daughter and signed for her to drop out of school. You never wanted what was best for my little girl. You wanted her away from me. Now what do you have? You have your homegrown adult child, wearing out the furniture, eating everything in sight, running up the bills and going nowhere.

Yes, mother, your words ring true, I was always screwed up. Denial on your part that your contribution played a role, the only chapter from my childhood that hasn’t been amended. My life improves without the thought of you in it. My pain is lessened when you aren’t here to slice me up and rub salt into the wounds. I hate you for living long enough to hurt me that one last time but I am not angry with you anymore. My acceptance came when the 7 year old girl who lives inside my broken heart was finally able to mourn her mother’s soul. Damn you for stealing my daughter’s.

She will always be MY daughter, you can manipulate her memories, you can poison her mind with your lies, but you can’t wash me out of her DNA… Mark my words, if I die before you, I swear to EVERYTHING you find sacred, I will see she is protected while you suffer a long, grueling and painful, merciless death.

Laundry Blog 5/7/2013

After spending about 45 minutes on the phone with parental unit, I've been reminded how my entire life has been a redundant cycle of riding my mental illness off the track, feeding my countless addictions, and all of my extremely poor choices that might accompany as a result. Whenever there was upheaval in my house, it was generally because of me.

Astoundingly enough, I am ...overwrought with anxiety after simply hearing about the MASSIVE amount of DRAMA, and CHAOS, and DISORDER, DISTRESS, and DIS-EASE that goes on in that family without me playing an active role. I am mind-boggled at how the cycle of shit storms and chronic chaos has remained in the places I've taken conscious measures to remove myself from. At the same time, I reflect back on my life [between sporadic contact] in honest appraisal, as I know I am not without my fair share. My initial take on the matter: I'm going to be OK, so long as I continue to stay away.

Carefully, with an open mind and a mirror to prevent me from lying to myself, I recall the last 5 conversations that I've had with family, ALL of which have been initiated by me, and I see that the contrast of chaos vs. serenity seems to align with the separation of that whole them vs. me feeling I've always had. Ironically, I don't feel as though they are sick and I am well, I feel more like they pointed the finger at me, while having three of their own fingers pointing right back at themselves, and how true these things can be... I got tired of being sick and being to blame for all the shit, I took a stand and some strategically planted advice, and well...

I've come a long way, there is no cap on my potential to do better, I feel good about this. As for the they, or them...? I can report with confidence in my perception that they are unknowingly, blindly, and with reckless abandon, are reliving the same horrific, sordid, and twisted tale of victims helping victims over and over and over again, like a half hearted attempt at another remake of the same crappy movie, same plot, new cast of characters, same empty feeling at the end of each deplorable remake.

I have learned to reduce the level of all that noise in my life, I've also learned how to diffuse it when it becomes too much for me to deal with... I have not mastered or perfected either skill, as ALL who know me will surely testify.

I am not sure what this all means with regard to my own sanity, or lack thereof... However I am about as sure as I could possibly be that I've begun to transform into a person I am happy to be, and have been riding a more stable, modern day, roller coaster... My darkest days of late have shone incredibly brighter than the grey existence of my former days. Being mindful of my pseudo-cavalier approach to life, with a little help prioritizing the things that actually DO matter, I might have half a chance at brief moments of contentment and peace... My Conclusion: Knowing the depths of ones own insanity is like being aware of shark infested waters. I find gratitude in having the sense to proceed with caution.