It hurts

Today I heard that my mother died.

A year after I decided I don’t want her anymore to be part of my life and sent her back. I’m forty nine years old, thirty five of that I spent taking care of her, taking care of them without expecting something and getting nothing in return. Now that she’s dead I don’t feel a thing, even less than when my father passed away; that time I have felt free, now, just nothing.

I’m not sad. How could I? How could I feel sorrow about someone I have no feelings for aside from born obligations and call of duty. They instilled in my brain from day one that my sole purpose in life is to work for them and to ensure that through me they can better their lives.

I married for them didn’t I? I worked all my life for them didn’t I? I provided in all manners possible for them didn’t I? I let myself be abused and terrorized for them didn’t I? For that, they hate me. So much so that they devised, conjured, executed plans to harm me in all imaginable ways, and all of that because I got away, because I refused to be part of their self-destructive circles of lies and deceit. They never forgive me for wanting to escape.

No doubt I made a lot of mistakes. One of those is letting them manipulate and use me for too long, firmly believing we are family, that I mean something more to them than being a meal ticket; that they care, I was wrong. It took me almost 50 years to realize that, to see that I never had a mother and a father, a brother or a sister. Oh, they have one another alright. They share common goals: to exist, to take, to demand to destroy to emotionally blackmail to harm and to bring me down. After all, I am the outsider. A useful outsider but an outsider nonetheless. They, they recognized one another in each other.  They think alike and act alike. Does it hurt me? The answer to that is no. Why? Because I didn’t realize I’ve been used. I believed that it was my duty to provide for them no matter what, even if it means my own downfall.

By the time the the realization of my situation dawned on me, it was too late; I already lost a lot. Not only financially, time wise but physically as well; I lost my health working. Nobody ask how I am, what I feel, what I think, not even once.

It is okay, I’m used to that. I’ve been alone all my life. I’m an orphan from the very beginning.

How I wish they have respected the fruits of my labor if not me as a person. After all, I did acquire it all for them. I have no used for these things. We don’t even inhabit the same space let alone continent. I didn’t know at first that they expected me to feed them, literally. That providing different means to  be able to do it themselves (including education) was not enough. That giving them shelter doesn’t mean they will be grateful. Not to me but for a fact that they have a place, beautiful ones (yes ones) equipped with everything they could wish for. But even that they didn’t manage to cherish and respect. In the end they all lost it.

Material things disappeared faster than I could provide. When the demands are bigger than the supplies, they would threaten and insult me in all possible ways saying I’m useless and ungrateful. I still feel guilty about that. For the longest time I thought they were right. I’m still working on it.

 When my ex said to me that I let my family run all over me and always managed to forgive their evil deeds I was angry to him. I thought he just didn’t understand.  We don’t have the same culture, background and upbringing, how could he?  Now I know he’s right. Pity it was too late. We become each other’s exes. Regrets? Definitely not. I and he are destined to be apart. Too much love will kill you they say especially if one party has so much ammunition to win the war. Winning is pretty relative anyway.  In a situation like ours, there is no clear winner. Losers would most probably be the children. They always are, aren’t they?

When it became clear to me that nothing will ever going to change between me and my family, I decided to cut my losses by bringing my mother where I am to try to provide for her closely so she and her allies will not be able to hoodwink me with their ever changing ever growing impossible demands. I let them liquidate assets I provided for their comfort, benefits and future without regrets. They were doing it anyway without (my knowledge) even consulting me, so why not let them do it for the last time. I was so far that time to realize that my direct duty is only towards my mother and not to all of them. Another big mistake.

I should have known that kindness, effort and patience plus close proximity to me will not change the person that my mother was. She been spoiled by me for too long she thought everything I did for her she had it coming and somehow entitled to it. Why not? She sired /spawned me after all, so I’m in her debt forever and ever. I never saw gratitude and appreciation from her, these two things are foreign to her nature but still I go on. I don’t know what I was hoping for that time, a miracle maybe? Perhaps I am too stupid to recognize a hopeless situation when I see one.

She made my life a living hell. For the first time I came face to face with the real woman behind the name mother. She was a vain person with no substance, no scruples, no conscience no compassion (at least for me, to anybody she’s great) and a pathological compulsive liar. I thought I could ignore or tolerate her behaviour, and I did for a period of over 6 years, but living constantly with her under one roof put too much pressure to our already strained relationship. The facts keep staring me directly in the face, and I came to hate her.

So much so that I lost my control in few occasions. I deeply regret every each one of them, but made me realized also a lot of things about my father. Why he was how he was towards her. I can understand now the feeling of helplessness and being powerless. That was when I decided to send her home and cut her completely out of my life.

On top of everything, she will not turn me into somebody I myself despise and hardly recognized. She will not manipulate me so she can play her favourite rule, being the victim. I told her that I already sacrificed too much for all of them, for her, all my life; I don’t want to do it anymore. It’s about time I think about myself, my declining health (which btw she never care about) and live for me instead of merely being there for everybody. She came from a well to do family; I have five sisters and one brother. It’s about time they share the responsibilities they forcefully shove unto my lap all these years.

Now, she’s dead. They called to let me know. She called, my sister. After hiding from me for years, after she sold my property she called to let me know that our dear mother passed away. As if I care. Truly, I don’t. Is it good or bad, I have no idea. I cannot grieve when I don’t experience the sense of loss of something I never had.

Maybe it will gradually come, the guilt I mean. Perhaps it will hit me square in the face one day. But not now.  Now, I am changing my phone numbers so they cannot bother me ever again. The last connection we had is gone. No use keeping contacts. The only communication  I had with them were the times when they asked for something and I failed to give it, then they contacted me to show their displeasure. When they did get what they want, I will not hear from them for quite sometimes till they need something again. It’s over now. I stop being stupid.

I know I will grow old in a very near future. I will be sick like few times in my life. I will die one day.  They never have been there for me. I always had been alone fighting for survival, alone in my struggles, joy and sorrows, they never ask for my well-being, they never care about me, why should they be there in the moment of my death?

© 2014-2015 Impossiblebebong

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28 thoughts on “It hurts”

      1. I understand – I can relate – and I’m sure there are many more who can. Hang in there. I am thinking of you and wishing you peace.

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      2. Sorry for the late reply but this one landed on my spam folder. I thank you for your concern, your interest and your kind words. Thank God there are people like you who every time I find myself on the edge, lend me some strength to pull myself back into safety.

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      3. No problem – I understand. Hang in there! One day – or even one moment at a time. Life isn’t always easy – but it is worth it. Cherish the little things and the moments.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. I replied already to this one. Where did my comment go? These days I am not only having trouble with pingbacks (which refuse to link for two months now) seems comments always find themselves in spam folder lately.

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  1. I feel honored to read about your life. This is all so intimate. I know we are very different but with our conversations I see some things that are alike. I am an orphan too.

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  2. I don’t feel I have a right to try and assuage all that you have been feeling but I appreciate the honesty and hope you find yourself on higher ground in the coming year.

    All the best to you,
    Diana

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    1. And I appreciate the concern. I’m still swimming but I see a glimpse of a shore somewhere in a distance. I will try to head for it as fast as I could. When I reach it, I’ll let you know. Thank you.

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  3. Hey @impossiblebebong! I am not from a perfect home, either. It would be too personal to share but to cut it short my parents separated when I was little and they both remarried. As the eldest, I always felt like I needed to be strong and didn’t allow myself to be tired. I was carrying too many baggage. It was only lately that I found peace. I invite you to read about my journey, https://flavoredlemons.wordpress.com/2015/01/21/from-agnosticism-to-love-a-journey/

    “No one can truly understand another, if we could, no one would be lonely” – The Banquet

    Though I ascribe to this quote, I believe there’s one who wcan really understand each one of us. God bless you!

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      1. I wasn’t. 😦 My parents just named me that. I have never figured out why. They weren’t hippies, or gypsys, or anything more scandalous than by-the-book white suburban Catholics. I move around a lot and live by the beat of my own drum – which my parents don’t approve of by any means.

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  4. This broke my heart. I hope, you have made progress, physically and more especially, emotionally, past all the hurt. It is sad how some parents do this to their own children. I am sorry you had to go through all of this, and quite grateful you found the courage to walk away from it before it killed you and the strength to share your sadness with us.
    God, the Great Balm of Gilead, heals our brokenness. Allow Him to heal yours too!
    #Huuuggggs!

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