18 Years of God Damn Bullshit: A Memoir

Memories of my Mother Haunt Me

((TW:// Mental Illness, Substance Abuse, Detailed Child Abuse/Trauma, Suicide))
This is just an outpour of thoughts, not meant to make sense, but provide context and perhaps be a work of words on it's own

Was it her mind? Was it her illness? Was it the pills?

Was it just her?

I had wanted to stay

Because I ‘loved her no matter what’

I knew it was bad, but I loved her so much I knew I couldn’t bear to part from her

I had hated her in some moments

Enough to not cry or be afraid

Enough to hurt her back

Why was I so attached to my abuser?

My mother was my abuser

I was abused

I didn’t get it as bad as my little brother

She sickens me

Is she that person anymore?

I don’t know if I can forgive her for the things she has done

Why had I thought it was normal?

Why did I forgive her?

Did I need a mother?

Did I feel like no one else would love me like she did?

After leaving her, why did I hate myself for it?

Why had leaving her caused me to try to off myself for guilt and purposelessness

She said we were soulmates, kindred spirits

And we were

We were perfect like she always wanted

So why did she hurt me too?

Why did she hurt us?

And leave us?

Did she love me when she was beating me?

Did she love my little brother when she was forcing food down his throat, and making him eat his vomit?

Why can’t I remember everything?

Why did she always convince me it was normal?

“You don’t know real abuse” she always said

I comforted her when she cried in my arms about her past and all the things she never talked about

I comforted her when she told me about her first and only abortion

I was born because she couldn’t bear another

She lied to my father so I could be born