There’s this saying….
“Leave the past in the past….”
But what if the past won’t stay there? What if it constantly follows you? Like a shadow, tripping you up every damn chance it gets? Tainting your every move, reminding you that you are bad….
So most of you know I was in care, most of you have probably figured out the basics of why…. damn I feel so full of emotions I don’t understand but what I do know is that I just can’t understand why I let my mother back into my life?
Why? I ask myself why? But I don’t know. It’s like all of a sudden my mind goes to mute or starts singing saying i can’t hear you!
I wanted answers. I needed answers. I still want those answers… See I can find reasons why it can be explained, for all the things that happened to me. I still say it’s my fault. I must have provoked those men to do what they did to me. I must have been a bad child to get hit and thrown down the stairs and so many countless other things that my memory just says no.
But….
My brother. My brother had no voice, he couldn’t protest, couldn’t stop it, couldn’t tell anyone. The images of what happened to him still haunt me nearly 30 years later. Why? Why did she think it was ok to do those things to him? THEY are the answers I need. And the more my children grow, the more I try my hardest to be the sort of parent my children can be proud of. The sort of parent that has good strong bonds with their children and helps guide them to be the best they can be…. The more I am disgusted with her. The more I hate her.
My dad I just wiped from my life. Easy as that. In my mind, the words mum and dad are just that. Words. My parents died with the 6 yr old that used to wake every night screaming and hysterical.
My mother lives in her own world, where lies and fairy tales and make believe are all real and it’s been like that so long that I doubt she knows the real from the lies anymore. But I need those answers…. why did she touch him and worse? That tears me apart.
Ok you can never understand why a sick individual would do something like that just like you wouldn’t be able to understand a killer or rapist or well the list I guess goes on….
I figured out a while ago that it was hopeless. That I was never gonna get those answers. That even if she once had them, they are gone now, disintegrated beneath all those lies and wonderful tales she spins. I doubt she knows anymore….
But that doesn’t help me sleep better at night….
So I wrote on here that Peter, her husband, had died. I wonder how much he truly knew? Peter was a nice guy. Not like her. He lived in the world. The real world. Not her fairytale.
I blocked my mother’s number to my phone. She’s blocked on Facebook. And as I’m moving she won’t know my new address. I should have done this a long time ago…. why didn’t I? Simple…. I still had hope I’d get those answers….
Between her, my dad, those men, what happened in my early 20 ‘ s and being in care…. I can accept that yes I’m a fuck up. Yes I get so much wrong and yes I’m so afraid of getting hurt that I struggle to even accept love. I have no doubt that my past is why I have more male friends than female, I don’t really like women. <—- is that the right word? I think not…. uncomfortable around them? No. I don't know the right word….
What I do know is she is out of my life and I should have done it sooner….
But I also know this…. I always wanted a mum to have a close bond with…. to talk to about kids with, to be there as I went through my pregnancies, when I got told my baby would die unless they operated on him while he was still inside of me, when they pulled my children’s dad to one side and told him I was that ill the doctors didn’t think I was gonna make it through labour and have my youngest son. There are many more times. To many to write….
What I am thankful for is that I am not like her. So what I never had a mum….
I don’t have what most would call a normal family, most of the people I’m actually related to think I’m a bad person.
I have a brother. I have another brother (who was fostered with me) and I love him like my full blood brother. I have a half sister (one of many) who I love like full blood to. Apart from them and my kids? I don’t need any other family.
For every backwards step I take, I remind myself that I just need to keep walking…. everytime I feel low and it feels like life’s not worth it…. I remember there are people out there who go through worse….
I can do this. Even though I feel so stressed out and so mixed up and so damned lost in this sea of emotions that at times I feel like I’m drowning….
I’m stronger than I know. I just need to start believing in myself….
.x.
An empty space.... 