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 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 asks 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 at 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 be 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 has 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 behavior, and I did for a period of over 6 years, but living constantly with her under one roof put too much pressure on 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 on a 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 favorite 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 until 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