Mom, Do You See Me?

Abuse/Eating Disorder/Death

The efforts I’ve made to be loved by you.

Mom, do you see me?

The words I spew about things you do go right over your head, as if there is no worth in saying anything at all. If I'm lucky I’ll get a slap or two. I understand you loved him, and now he has passed, but why can’t I be good enough for you?

Mom, will you ever see me?

Or have I wasted my efforts and the little happiness I have left on you? I have worked so hard to get here. To get him out of our life, why can’t you believe me on that? I loved him too, but it was so unhealthy.

It was foolish of me to waste such pristine time on trying to save you, the only thing I got was the need of being saved myself. But as much as you call me evil and selfish, I will bite back. Because I’m not evil, I’m hurt; and I’m not selfish, I’m just done giving my all to people who don’t deserve it.

You’ve learned to despise me, as much as you try to convince us both otherwise. I understand you're mad at me, and the anger shall last a lifetime, but I’m your daughter.

Mom, why can’t you see me?

I’ve forgiven you, for locking me in closets to get me to be quiet. Or when you would give me the silent treatment until I calmed down. You’ve made me develop lifelong fears of abandonment and darkness, but I forgive you, because you're my mother.

Mom, do you need me?

I need you to be my mother. For once I don’t want to be independent. I want to be the child that I am, and cry into their parents arms as they hold them close and tell them that it will all be alright. But you’re not even my mom anymore. I long for that in somebody else. You have become such a pit of darkness that you blame me for, I don’t even understand who you are.

So just lie to me. Tell me you love me every night with a disgusted tone. Lie to me so that I can love you just a little longer.

Whenever I tell somebody about a previous argument we’ve had, they tell me you were unreasonable. So I finish by telling another story. A happy story. One were you were my mother, so that they don’t think you’re that bad of a person.

I worked so hard to keep your reputation as an amazing person, but you're slowly losing me. I spent years of talking about the little shred of good you had left, but I don’t see that anymore. I question why I tried. I sat on the rigid sofa in the living room, as I knowingly became an eyewitness to that change.

A mother has an instinct that something bad has happened to their daughter, but that doesn't apply to you, because in your head I was never your daughter. You can’t even notice when your daughter is struggling for you.

You caused me to have an eating disorder, but it’s ok because I would be helping you gain your “dream daughter” and maybe, for once, you would be proud of me if I ate a little less.

And that’s when I felt it. Tiredness. An overwhelming urge to just sleep and wake up when everything is over. It’s a terrible feeling for a child to look into their mothers eyes, and see the love they once had for you, gone. And it is now that I realize, I've lost something I never had. A parent, my own mother.

Mom, I’m sorry you had to raise a child you didn’t want.

I would sweat my ass off for us to become a family. A family like before you met him. But that’s not what you want. You don’t want to be a family with me, you would choose him any day. So once again, I will remain alone.

I know you can’t fully heal me from what you’ve caused, but it would be nice for you to try. I killed a part of me, the only part I loved of myself, so that you could feel a sense of happiness and hope. But that was never enough for you.

Mom, can you see me now?

I want my life back. I want myself back. I’ve put up this perfect, golden child act for you. I don’t know who I am anymore.

Mom, I can’t see me.

`I don't want an apology, after all what's done is done, all I want is for you to understand. Understand that it was so much for someone so young, and that it still hurts. It’s scary to want to die so young. I mean, why hurt someone whose only intention was to make you feel? How many times are you going to go about destroying me? I would just like to let you know, I will continue to let you break me, only because I love you. And even if you don’t love me back, you’ll always be my mother. A mother who doesn't care, but still the person who raised me.

I hate talking to you, you would tell me that I’m not doing enough, when it’s hard enough to keep myself alive. You would make me cry at night. Cry for my heart to stop, collapse underneath my ribs; I sat in the bathroom. I would beg to be a good enough daughter, to be the daughter you actually want.

Sorry. Mom, I am sorry.

Even after everything I hope you're proud of me, I've inhabited all your problems to call my own, which was the only thing I got out of wasting my time on you. And so for now, I will seek comfort in the woods, and whine to them of all my woes and attempts to save us. Staring through tormented eyes and a face so blank, you will forget anything ever happened. So that we could continue with our day, and repeat the process tomorrow as something less than family.

I will forever regret my attempts at conjoining our separated lives.