Monday, February 6, 2012

An Open Letter To My Abusive Mother


Dear Mom-
                  As my husband and I begin to plan our family, I thought it would be practical for me to let you know why you will never meet nor speak to your oldest daughter's children. I would love to say it's nothing personal, but it is very, very personal. When you told the doctors I was suicidal at eleven years old, and had me put on prozac, it was personal. When you allowed me to eat an entire bag of pixie stix, then took me to the emergency room and told them I was having a manic episode, it was personal. When you had me put on lithium at eleven years old, when you had me diagnosed with bi-polar disorder, then borderline personality disorder, then some sort of seizure disorder, and all those other things... When you had me put on thirty-seven different medications in a period of less than a decade, that was personal, "mom". When you told me I would never be able to keep a job, that no man would be able to handle me, that was personal. When you told me I'd have to be under your care for the rest of my life, that was personal. When you told me I'd never be able to drive a car, or keep a husband, or care for myself let alone children of my own- THAT WAS PERSONAL, MOM.
                   That's not all, either. Every time you drove drunk with my sister and I in the car, it was personal. Every time you hit one of us or threw something or laid in the middle of the living room without doing anything for days on end, it was personal. When you told us to flat-out lie to our father and grandparents so they would send you money, that was personal. When you tried to stand in the way of me getting married at 19, then threatened my husband repeatedly, it was damn sure personal. When you pushed me to get my tubes tied at eighteen years old, just like when you called me a whore after losing my virginity to a rape at fourteen, yes it was PERSONAL.
                    And you know what? Now that I'm starting to realize that you did all these things for your own benefit, not just because of some illness or alcoholism you refuse to admit to having, now that I realize you tried to get money out of my "diseases", now I know you're not worth my forgiveness nor my prayers. You have done the unforgivable, Mom. I will never be able to get pregnant naturally because of your bullshit. But we will have kids- because we are two loving, stable, at least reasonably sane people who want children, not for our own personal gain, but to love them and raise them to be good, functional, intelligent and loving members of society.
                    When you get angry because you've never met your grandchildren, remember- they will never even know your name--- because it's personal.
Sincerely,
Your Daughter.

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