And She Blooms.....

My mother is 38 . Im 20. In more ways than one we grew up together. When i went to school, and started dealing with relationship dramas ( of my friends-never my own) it was easy to know exactly how to deal with teenage drama, id watched my parents for twelve years. I was my mothers friend, and when our lives started to fall apart inch my inch that was where our problems arose. My father began his own larger buisness, and while we began to have insane amounts of  money in the house, he was never home. My grandmother, my aunt and my grandfather died and my mother began having dreams about repressed memeories throughout her life. My gradfather was an abusive drunk, two of her brothers  drug addicts, she had suffered at the hands of men, emoitionally and pysically since childhood. when  my aunt died, no one told me untill my father realised they had forgotten to explain to me why exactly my mother was buring our bibles. instead i sat comforting the three year old my aunt had left behined. I never cried for my aunt, i couldnt, my mother didnt need my pain. And then the drinking began. Both my parents began to drink, both developed serious substabce abuse problems, waking up to them stumbling into the house screaming and my  mother in a drunken up roar about somthing, slurred abuse about how selfish or lazy of unsuccesfull i was became the soundtrack of my teenage life. But sober, we were like two peas her and i we still knew everything about eachother, we still tried to love beyond the pain. but i stoped beliveing in both of them, stoped trusting them , there was  no saftey in my mothers arms or my fathers re assureances. Nights would come where shed lose it, dad would leave, i would stay, to baracade her in s  proffed room pour out the liquor hide the pills. shed say things to me shed never be able to take back, id say things to her i never imagined id say. and the next moring hewd come home to see her locked in the bedroom and scowl at me, to walk in and be the good guy the way my father does. and id wonder how in his right mind at 16 it was okay for me to be living this, and then we'd go shopping and for a time id be contended with the shiny trinckets hed use to distract me and so would she. but it wouldnt last long. when you stop beliveing in your parents, you stop beliving in the things you were told as a child, you never stop beliving in the tooth fairy i think, life makes you realise that this is to ****** a place for faires to exist. theres no magic about relaiseing your parents arent heroes, but real flawed people. So feelingcrazy, ill never let go of the resentment i feel towards my mother, or the resntment she makes me feel now shes getting better and wants to be my mother now. as she asks me whats wrong or how my days at universtity were i fight  the urge to tell her that i did all this with the aid of only my fathers money, i dont need emotional lessons this late .in life. and then i remember the suicide attempts, the falsh backs, the cutts, and i realise i cant hate somene that fragile, its almost lite hating roses for dying after they bloom, so instead i try not to wait for her to lose it again ,try not to rember that i lost my mother the day she lost my aunt and wait for it to be rose season again. If you watch, feelingcrazy you might see that those moments are the ones worth remembering.

legallyme legallyme
18-21, F
2 Responses Jul 31, 2008

thanks buttercup, <br />
but you know what, i wouldnt be who i am if it wasnt for all that. so im okay with it.<br />

I am sorry you had to go through all this.