dear mom,
i've written a lot of letters to you now.
but i want to write another.
when i was nine you crawled into the bed me and my friend were sleeping in and tried to sleep with us... we slept on the floor that night.
when i was ten you threw a landline at my head.
when i was eleven you tried to kick down a door to drag me out of my room.
when i was twelve i watched when you got arrested for drunk driving because i was in the fucking car.
when i was thirteen you gave me my first and only bloody nose when you elbowed me in the face.
and by fourteen you've made it so that when you reach out to touch me i flinch.
i flinch when any adult tries to touch me, for that matter.
none of this you remember, of course.
you were drunk.
you were always drunk... you still are drunk.
for what reason?
is it me?
or are you just sad...?
but mom-
you make me sad too.
i wish you would accept responsibility for what you've done and be an adult and live up to it.
but this i know wont happen.
it wont ever go away, no matter how many prayers i pray to the God that's supposed to answer.
you forced me to grow up when i was nine.
before i was even double digits.
before i was even in middle school.
you robbed me of my childhood and my innocence too early and i want it back and i cant ever get it back because you took it from me and that part of my life is over.
so instead
i'm an adult
as a freshman in highschool.
i should still have time to dumb shit and screw up and make mistakes.
but i have to drive illegally to avoid dying at your hands, i have to make dinner most nights on top of doing my homework, and i cant even cry about it because God forbid i stress dad out.
i have to be the responsible one while you relive your college years.
wait--not your college years. forgot you never finished because you flunked out...
but you get onto me for making a 94 on a test.
what type of fucked-up logic is forming in your brain?
i didn't ever think i could hate a parent.
i didn't ever think i could hate you.
but here we are--
i completely resent you.
with no love,
your mentally ill daughter3
