Tuesday, August 23, 2011 | By: BlackGargie

The Past Bites Again

Was watching The Dark yesterday and I was sorta bitten by the sore past bug, thinking about my relationship with my mom.

After I finally told the truth to my friend: that actually I'm the only child, my parents divorced when I was 6, I live with my mom and had been the epitome of a broken marionette ever since, and that my dad never remarried, or went to jail, or hurt my mom, or did whatever things that I've ever said to her in my letters, and my mom never remarried either, and also my 'stepdad' is actually her boyfriend/sugar daddy she dated, and ironically he's a married man, and the rest is true, both in my journals n my blog about the physical and mental abuse, everything.

You'd think that when your marriage failed due to your husband having an affair would make you cautious, but no~ she had to become the home-wrecker she hated the most.

I also told her that I'm back in good terms with my dad after the incident when my hubby rescued me from my mom. He was glad that I left her and apparently my mom decided to "omit" the fact that she was having battle custodies with my dad, almost settling in court, but my dad's plea was overruled by the fact that children below 16 is compulsory to stay with the mother, and I had to hear from my dad AFTER I left, which is why I realize why my mom was asking questions about whether I would go with her or my dad if I were to face court. I always thought it was her insecurity, that I had to answer her that "I'll choose you, mom" just to make her happy, but now it all made sense.

I remember this really huge argument I had with my mom after the incident where I played truant with Marina and she threatened to send me to my dad, and made a scene with my dad and my dad said "Fine, if you don't want her, I'll take her!"

I should've said "Yes".

"Yes, I'll go with you, Dad."

I should've said that.

I know I shouldn't, but I'm sometimes embarrassed by my past, and sometimes when I tell people about it, I can't help but get the feeling that they're giving me the "God, this child is unfilial, a sinful child" look when they don't even know what REALLY goes on behind closed doors.

When I watched The Dark, the way the daughter interacts with the mother, how American children seemed to be allowed to be angry and throw obvious tantrums at their parents, how they can say "I hate you" without worrying too much about the parents beating them black and blue, daring them to say it again, or be kicked out of the house, or locked up and starved to near death by them.

They were allowed to hate their mother.

Not me.

I am not allowed to hate her.

If I show any indication that I hate her, or want to leave her, I will have hell to pay. She would go through a bipolar period where she will scream and rant at how ungrateful I am to her and that I should just get lost, go away, leave her alone and never see her again. And when I do as she wishes, she would get mad and upset that I'm leaving her, and would either belittle me or embarrass me, or just about anything, to make me stay.

She is a walking hypocritical conflicting bitch.

Could you even believe that she gets jealous at me, despite claiming she doesn't?

There have been occasions where her boyfriends, sugar daddies and boy toys treat me and pamper me more than her, and she got jealous and said that she did not raise her daughter to become a slut and that I must love getting on anyone's pants as long as it is a man, and she pretty much called me a whore while insisting that she is not saying this because she was jealous.

She obviously was.

I no longer have night terrors about her now but I see her in my dreams sometimes. Sometimes she's nice, but sometimes she was the same monster I used to know and grew up with. And that scares me sometimes, thinking about the possibility that I would never get over her.

I can't hate her because she's my mother, somehow, even though in truth I do hate her a little bit.

But I can't love her anymore.