I Burried You Before You Died

The first time you tried to kill me was before i was even born, couldn't terminate me because of the law... the second time you tried i was barely 1 month old. My father caught you in the act; holding me over the window of our 4th story flat...
A few days after that incident i was dumped at my grandmothers for the next 4 years to come. Being dumped turned into a blessing, i was loved for at least the 4 years i was allowed to stay with my grandmother.
Then one day, two strangers appeared at took me away. I remember every second, people telling me those strangers are your parents and they come to take you with them ...- back home.... whatever that meant.

I have never touched her, not once do i remember kissing that woman. I always felt horrible around her, i felt guilty for breathing, taking up space, i wanted to disappear.
The first time i wanted to kill myself and just get it over with i was 10 years old. Collecting pills and taking anything i could get my hands to. Obviously it didn't quite work.... then the window again. I am starring down the parking lot and thinking " oh boy, i don't want to make a mess and destroy others cars by landing on them".... and again and again i am catching myself starring down the window...

I believe that must have been a few years after she had told me that she never wanted me to to begin with, telling me how upset she got when they told her i was too far along to be terminated...
I remember being beaten almost to death because of 1 piece of toast. Her son started "the job" in the kicthen on a sunday morning and she finished it with the heel of her shoe on my head... eventually i was left to clean up the blood and scrub the floors. Dried up blood is difficult to get off...
When you meet 'her" you would think you are in the presence of a saint thats how nice, friendly, helping and loving she will greet and appear to you. She will do your laundry, cook, clean and take care of your children and never say a bad word..... her anger, hate is only towards me...
One day i took my children and left the country. I put an ocean of distance between her and my family. I don't know if i am a good mother, i don't beat my children or even say a bad word to them that might upset them. I try to give them what i never had.
I quit smoking and literally held a funeral at my backyard for the cigs. I burried the pack into the ground. Weeks later, i met somebody and small talk" do you have any family back home"? i replied no. They are all dead. I burried my father who was never in a position to help me, he did the best he could. Her i choose to burry.
Hopefully i know how to love, i think i am doing good by showing my kids, husband and dog love. Only issue is, i have never learned how to receive love. Whenever i am being told that i am loved, the same thought pops into my mind ... " you can't love me, i am here by just luck, i should have never made it here.
I catch myself cry a lot of course when nobody is around. I don't say much to my husband when he goes through his months of ignoring me again. I am not a talker, maybe a long time ago i was but then i went into silence trying not to put any attention towards myself.
Most days, when nobody is in the house i will just sit at a corner and think i am not worthy to be in this house. Somebody will walk in and ask me to get out. I have many clothes that i don't care about... actually i don't own anything. The person who paid for the clothes, the house, the car... is my husband.
leyla35 leyla35
31-35, F
May 17, 2012