Mother – what did I do?

*TRIGGER WARNING*

This I have no idea how to write, I feel like I need to, but I don’t know what to say because it is just so hard.

I am my dad’s 4th child, technically his 5th (one of his daughters was still-born at full term). I am his second daughter and my mother’s first child. I know that I was wanted as they struggled to conceive me and sought help. My maternal grandmother had nose cancer and during the first three months of my mother’s pregnancy with me she looked after her dying mother. My grandmother died when my mum was 3 months pregnant with me. My mum grew up with her half-sister who is 12 years older and her mother. Her father left my grandmother after the war, the story is horrible and one which makes me feel very sad for both my mother and grandmother.

My mother grew up in Western Australia. She was incredibly close with her mother and by all accounts they adored one another. It used to make me feel that one day we would have a relationship like that, I wanted to have that with her.

Despite wanting me so badly my mother went back to work when I was 4 months old, not uncommon I know, but I was left with an array of nannies and my earliest memories are not with my mum, they are with the childminder and her children. I remember them far better than my mum and dad. When I was 22 months old my brother was born. I don’t remember a huge amount about it, but I know sufficient to remember that I was not wanted. She was always too busy. She would laugh at my words and what I tried to do in order to help her. I was teased for years about what I would call things, or how I would hear things. I had chicken pox when I was 3 months old followed straight after by a perforated ear drum. I have really poor hearing in one of my ears and not fantastic hearing in the other. Have suffered with earache since I was clearly tiny.

My sister came along just before I was 3 and a half. I still had nannies or whatever and I still have more memories of them than my family. When I was 5 I overheard some of the kids at school calling their mother’s mum, so I decided to call mine ‘mum’. I did, she told me not to, I did again, she shouted at me, I called her it again and she slapped my face really hard. I remember the sting of her hand on my chubby cheek. I remember being really stunned, sick and like my head had been swung from side to side. It was really hard and stung a lot.

I could write more and more, but there were lots of other things that happened too. But there other things which happened as I grew older. The first one was when I was 7/8 yrs old. It was her birthday, she basically threw the presents I bought her at me and my dad, threw the present my dad bought her out the window. I remember being scared, she shouted a load of abuse, some of which I don’t remember. Some I do and it was so hurtful. I was scared of her. It was not long after this that I was sexually abused by the boy that my parents befriended from the church. I told her that he had been touching me and had made me touch him. Her response was that he was at the age where he was just “curious”. He went to rape me when I was 9, they didn’t do anything really to stop him, it’s like he was more of a son to her than I was her daughter.

I remember also around this time not wanting to eat all my lunch. My parents told me that I couldn’t leave the table until I had. I didn’t want to eat the sodding roast potatoes. My family went to the park leaving me sat at the kitchen table. I was 8….it was a sunday, the only day of the week we spent together as a family and they all went out. I was left alone for almost 5 hours. It was daylight when they left and dark when they got home. I was scared.

I often felt like I was a liar, that I wasn’t worthy of being loved or protected. I hated myself. I remember sitting in my room by this point in time banging the back of my head on the wall, shutting myself in my wardrobe with the doors shut biting my arms and hands, pinching and punching myself.

At 10 I got sent to boarding school. I was the only one sent and I never really understood why, but it was the beginning of me not being part of the family.

When I was 16 she threw the present i bought her for her birthday at me as well as the telephone. I hadn’t done anything. Nothing I had been helping to teach a first aid course. She was angry that I had been with other people on her birthday.

When I was 17 I was raped. I told my mum, she just slapped my face and told me that I was a slut. No love, no hug, no anything. Another sharp slap.

I have no idea why I am writing this, I don’t want to dislike my mum, I do love her. I love her with all my heart. This just hurts. Along with all this there is the behaviour from my siblings, but I am worn out and I cannot write any more. I am going for a cigarette and some tea before curling up in bed.

 

 

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