Untitled

Preface

I'm going to start by saying that some of us have moments in our lives where we just slip through the cracks of society. Especially those of us who have a constant and powerful image from the media. My family (well if you can call it that) have had one of these "moments". Well what happens in these "moments" is we just slide through time with no acknowledgements or forms of interest about our lives from our peers, our friends, our extended families and the media. Usually its because we don't want to be noticed. We just want to fly under the radar and avoid dealing with any problematic drama that could coincidently ruin our reputation and our lives. Some of us feel/felt forced to, but others don't. Either way it's a choice that we, the victim, has to make.

Continuing I'll let you know my mother's death was blamed on me. I was the reason she drank too much, I was the reason she neglected her career, the rest of her family, her husband, her public image resulting in her isolating herself from the rest of the world. She chose to slip through the cracks of society and destroy her socialite status. Instead of landing from the slip she just kept falling. Unable to maintain a grasp on her high profiled job, her great husband, her perfect life. She lost herself and for some reason this was pushed onto me, her illegitimate child. Its not my fault she lost herself, its not my fault she had an affair with my coward of a father and wasn't careful enough to not fall pregnant. It was her fault but, when is it ever someone's own fault for doing anything wrong when you are in her position?

Her death was no surprise to me. The way I had seen her abuse alcohol and illegal drugs behind closed doors was bound to have a negative effect on her in the long run and it did. Slowly and painfully it tore her apart, first the relationship she had with her husband when she blurted out that I wasn't his child while she was under the influence one night. Then her money, when she made one bad investment with her company and lost all her money. What she had left went straight to blow and hard liquor. Because of her addictions I starved at weeks on end before I found out that when she passed out she would leave her wallet unattended. Haha it was quite smart of me. Anyway after she lost her husband, then her money she lost her socialite status, everyone just ignored her and the problems that she was facing. They closed the door on her and along with her I was forgotten. Then she lost herself, she was riddled with drug educed hallucinations and her mind was constantly being torn apart and put back together time after time, after time, after time. An overdose and a cardiac arrest was what really got her in the end. After 8 long years of watching her cry herself away, starve herself through the withdrawals and then watch as she flew herself away into a sweet hallucination caused by coke, meth and occasionally heroin if she could afford it.

Her death was the best thing that happened to me. The media published so much about me, the young teenager stuck behind the ex-socialite mothers addiction. I was famous and people were setting up funds for me and giving me homes to stay in. I was interviewed and everyone knew my name. It was great but I was lost. My family still blamed me and wanted nothing to do with me but that didn't hurt because they had been doing it for so long it was expected of them to do so. The strangest and weirdest feelings of all was that there were people who wanted to analyse me over the event, they wanted to give me attention. Attention was not something I had experienced before so if someone wanted to focus on me and only me why would I stop them. University lecturers, doctors or anyone who has a PhD or an opinion decided to take it upon themselves to speak to me about my life with my mother and what she was like and what made her do the things she did and where it all stemmed from. They picked at me and prodded me for information or just anything they could diagnose or conclude to me about. Day after to day I was taken to clinic after clinic, hospital after hospital, university after university all because they wanted to know about me, how I ticked, how I interacted, how I thought and why I didn't speak up about my mother and why I sat in denial the whole time.

For the record I wasn't in denial, I just didn't think it was right to let my junky whore of a mother be publicised for what she did. I never loved her, because she never loved me. She just loved the thought of me and I loved the thought of being loved by her.

I feel like this is more than enough information for you to go off. Take it as you wish and do as you please with it but that's the complete and utter truth. If you want more then come back when I have changed the way, I think of you and your psycho-analyse based questions. It was a pleasure to have you share my company now good day, Mr Argil.