Why I Hate My Mother

I hate my mother - there I have admitted it. Seems harsh, doesn't it? Well it's not. It's sad that I have to expend any emotion on that woman.

Growing up with her was hard. She would tell me how I was a mistake (she had me at 18) and how if I was never born she could have had a perfect life. To top that I went through my childhood enduring years of physical abuse - my mother would fly into these rages (absolutely anything set her off) where she would scream at me and hit me with anything available - I have had knives thrown at me, she even kept a special whip around to beat me and my sisters with... and she did all this while quoting bible scriptures at us. The only reason she stopped beating me was cos one day I lost it and threw her off me and told her I'd hurt her if she lay a hand on me again.

She is such a fake. To everyone else she pretends to be the perfect mother but in reality she is causes as much pain as often as she can. I have never met anyone else who is as sadistic as she is. She never speaks - she yells at me for everything. She is constantly over critical. I was never good enough at anything for her (and I was a straight A student), never pretty enough, never thin enough. She spends a lot of time asking why I  can't be more like anyone else. She would constantly goad me to pack up and leave 'her house'. As a teenager with no income and nowhere to go I was trapped there ... thankfully I have moved out now but that hasn't changed anything between us.

She has been serial dieter for years. I spent all my teenage years being ridiculed for my eating habits. She would always pick on me for eating too much. She once gave a picture of an obese woman to my boyfriend and told him that if he didn't tell me to stop eating I would end up that size. At the time I was barely a size 8.

 

She is not the kind of person you could ever speak to. I made the mistake of confiding in her once or twice. She would take what I said and use it against me. Nothing was sacred in our house. She would tell everyone she knew absolutely everything about us - anything to paint us as horrible worthless children while she was the saint. Every failure was a public humiliation because she would gleefully put me down and berate me in front of others.

I wish I could just get over it but I can't. I am on anti depressants and have been to psychologists. I don't even want children of my own because I am so afraid of turning into her. I am broken and she made me this way!

 

 

rozenmaiden rozenmaiden
26-30, F
1 Response Feb 14, 2010

Your article sounds exactly like I would have written it...my mother is the same..