My Mother Never Loved Me

Something I always craved in my life was for my mother to tell me just once that she loved me, to hug me and tell me that I was special. As a child (the youngest of six), I had nightmares and wet the bed for years. When I would wake up screaming in the night, she would come in to my room and sit beside me on my bed, not moving, not saying anything until I stopped. Then, she silently went back to bed.
I wanted the light left on in the hall at night and my door opened to feel secure, but always when I woke up in the night the door was closed and the light off, which terrified me because I was terrified of the dark. I cried alone about my mother and her total lack of affection, but it's just something I never shared. Instead, I went the other way of acting tough and acting like nothing bothered me because at my house, to show weakness, or cry, was to get laughed at.
I turned into an alcoholic at 15 and I almost drank myself to death a few times. No one knew I had a drinking problem at home though, because nobody knew I wasn't home. It's really hard for a kid when no one cares and it was the case. Nobody asked. I stopped phoning home to tell whoever was there I wouldn't be home because it didn't matter. There were no rules at home because my mother said she'd washed her hands of me (at 12) and my father was away most of the time. At 15, there were no restraints on me and I became a 'bad' kid. I acted out by getting into trouble, but I was a good kid, I had a good heart, I cared about others, I just wanted somebody to care about me. All I really wanted to hear from my mother was 'I love you.'

Listen: this is what I heard at home: 'I can't wait until you leave this house, you're on your own from now on, you're not welcome here, you're rotten through and through, you disgust me, you're lazy, you don't have any manners, you're ungrateful, take your shoes off, pick that up, go do the dishes, answer the door, you're room's disgusting, you don't appreciate anything, I didn't bring you up to act that way, where's the thanks I get, grow up, show some respect, goddamned kids.'  I had no self-esteem and felt worthless for years, but tomorrow when I enter my classroom I'll be  confident, comical, intelligent -  the person that I project and who I really am.  Why am I writing this?  Because you, too, can overcome the adversity and crippling emotional nightmare of an unloving home.

Charitylouise Charitylouise
51-55
Sep 20, 2012