Jan 11, 2019
for anyone who needed this. much love. feel free to inbox me I promise I’m kind :))
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for anyone who needed this. much love. feel free to inbox me I promise I’m kind :))
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Pretending.
tw!!!! Implied suicide attempt and talks of child abuse and neglect.
My mother formally left me when I was 11 years old. She had recently tried to end her life after years of alcoholism, which led to affairs, which led to the divorce papers lying on our dining room table. She lived, of course, but afterward she left me. Once she did, I started to pretend she had died that day, because it was easier than dealing with the fact that she didn't want me. Anyway, it’s been years since. I’m an adult now, still living with my sister, who gained guardianship due to my father’s incompetence. My mother has recently started coming over since my sister had a child. It’s strange. Sometimes I look at her and really see my mom, the one I’ve grieved over and over again. I think of when I was younger, and she had the smallest presence in my life she could and had to take me to appointments. She’d sit filling out my paperwork and all I wanted to do was hate her. Think “how could you do this to me”, but instead I’d pretend the opposite from before, that all is normal. She never left. Never destroyed parts of myself I’m still unable to fix. In hopes, I could soothe the part of me that yearned for her. The more she comes over, I find myself falling into the habit unconsciously. Falling asleep and dreaming of her as a good mother. My mother. Instead, I wake to a house she doesn’t even live in and a deeper whole in my heart.
A Snippet: "Nobody Prepared Me For"
I was about eight years old. Even at this age what I had been through I was very conscious but still free flowing in the wind as a child. Scene set at the beach myself, father, brother, and my fathers girlfriends family. We were on vacation in summer time. I loved swimming to this day I still do. However that particular day and the weeks following were a bit grim. I was never fearful of the water I'd jump right in and swim like a fish. My father was a surfer lover of the water so us kids by default were guppy babies.
I was rolled in a wave. Thrown around in the water dragged across the bottom. I made it out unscathed or so we thought until later that night. I was complaining of pain in my of back leg. My fathers partner at that time (no idea where my father was) decided to take a look. I had a sea shell the size of a dime lodged in the back of the top of my thigh. She then got equipment: tweezers, alcohol, etc.. She got it out!! HOORAY, we all thought, it's gonna be fine.
I being the child I am just moved on, stayed quiet and went back to my mothers house.... A week or so passes it's my little brothers birthday we are dressing up and getting ready to go to my grandmother house to celebrate his birthday (end of July). It's my turn in the bathroom to change and get ready....
I remember calling my mother into the bathroom complaining of pay, again very quiet very calm child I knew I hurt but didn't think much of it. She enters the bathroom and begins to inspect my leg. She is immediately terrified as there was a softball sized infection on the back of my leg. The panicking ensues.
Off to the ER we rush at about 8 in the evening. We get the the emergency room they check me out and inform my mother that I had a severe staff infection and need emergency surgery or I would be losing my leg. So off they take me or so they tried, my mother is a warrior and was going with them whether they liked it or not and its a good thing she did.
Whilst they were cutting and fixing, my little bitty asthmatic lungs decided they didn't like laughing gas as a sedative and I stopped breathing and as the doctors are doing their job to cut the sickness out of my leg the hadn't noticed but my mom oh boy my mom did and they saved me, twice that day.
I was eight years old when I almost lost my leg do to carelessness, I spent the night in that hospital and came home with my mother. Where was my father you ask this whole time when I could've died or lost a leg we don't know. And 15 years later I still don't know. What I do know is my mother loves me and she'd do anything to help me be safe. I hang on to these stories because they area part of what made me who I am but don't let them weigh me down. The moral is I wasted the next 13 years of my life trying to figure out why I wasn't good enough for my father even though he showed me at the age of eight I wasn't important to him.
Time is precious don't give it to those who do not deserved it.
My mother had always
Made me feel
Like I am standing on a beach
Waiting for a ship
That is never
Going to come.