This is my truth

Before I knew anxiety

I grew up with a constant fear that something bad was gonna happen any second. My heart races sometimes just because it's used to it I think. My Mom was a snapper. As quick as a snapping turtle! She could cut me down so quick with just a look. I tried with all my might not to make her mad at me cuz when I did the metal spatula came out of the drawer! I can't explain to you what it felt like being hit with it on my bare thighs. I imagine that the pain would rival 1,000 angry and hot bee stings. I had to be quiet and still when I took my punishment. If I cried or squirmed she hit harder! I don't know how she did it honestly though because I know that she hated hitting me more than she hated anything else in this world! After the hitting came hugs or a cuddle in her lap when I was still small enough to fit ♥️ She would tell me "I'm sorry you made me do that, I didn't want to". That was after the times that her hitting me was intentional. She never told me that she was sorry for slapping me out of frustration though. Not even when I when I was innocent & wasn't even the source of the frustration 🤷‍♀️ she wasn't rational or fair. Sometimes I was too nearby at the wrong time.
Sometimes I didn't move fast enough to please her.
And she was very unstable.
She did alot of really bad things.
She exposed me to way too much.
She neglected my needs.
She didn't keep our home clean.
She didn't make sure that I ate 3 times a day.
But.
I know that she really wanted to!!!
So bad that it ate her up inside 💔
Everything ate her up inside!
And I was an innocent and forgiving target.
I always told her that I was sorry for making her hit me. And I meant it. When I look back now of course I didn't deserve it. And I know that it wasn't my fault. But I believed in her and that what she said was always the truth. I always admired my mother. Everyone loved her ♥️ she was so friendly & outgoing & cheerful & kind & her voice & her laugh were like magic to me 🌟
I was a little girl who adored her mother even when I hated her. She was jovial when she was happy and she could lift anyone's spirits & make them laugh. She was a gift that way. I saw all this even as a child and I knew that she was special. I also remembered what she was like before her mental illness set in.
I remember how happy we were.
When she met my Stepdad and fell in love she was the happiest woman in the world!
But then her fairytale started to unravel and her mental stability went with it. My stepdad picked on me constantly calling me names and getting me upset all the time and it drove my mom crazy listening to me whine all the time. She hated cleaning up after him because he was super messy!
And they didn't get along well for very long. Eventually he stopped calling me names though and our relationship grew immensely 🥰 he became my hero and my best friend! I knew I could always count on him! We had a couple good years that way when I was young but then my Mom's constant complaining and paranoid thinking and delusions took charge of our lives and everything fell apart! My stepdad didn't want to be at home anymore and I didn't get to see him as much. It was good in a way though because when he was at home they fought!
They were so unpredictable. From the first time that my mom hurt me, when she kicked me, I knew that she could snap at any time. As I sit here and write my heart is racing!!! Even though she's not alive anymore the thought of her being upset with me still makes me feel like I'm gonna hyperventilate and it gets my heart racing! She was my only blood when I was growing up. She was my life. And when she was not ok, I was not ok. Up until the day that she died. I'm still having a hard time relaxing even though she's gone and the awful part is that I miss her so much I feel like my heart shatters a little more each day that I don't see her. But I'm keeping her alive here... And I'm also venting my anxiety.
I drive by her street almost everyday and sometimes I have to drive by the apartments where she last lived... I tell myself not to look at her front door but every time my eyes turn that way and they search for her...
I remember all the times that I walked her to my van and in and out of her apartment. I feel compelled to pull over and go check the smoking area to see if she's there 💔 I want to see her so bad! I don't want to leave this life for a really long long long time...
But when I do go, don't cry for me.
Cuz I promise you I'll be going straight to her arms and nothing will ever be able to come between us again. Death is all that could ever keep us apart.