My Mom And Denial

     I learned earlier that I lost a reader. It’s crazy that I lost one this fast, since I have been blogging for less than a month. But I did.

     Who, you may ask. My mother!

     My sister called, me earlier to inform me that my mom said she just can’t read my posts anymore. She can’t handle them. The past to her is dead and buried. She also said I should not be talking about the things from the past. To let them go.

     I won’t let the past go. It’s who I am today. It’s also who my sister is today. I’ll leave my sister to explain her side, I won’t do it for her. But as for myself, I believe you are who you are by what you have been through. It’s how you are molded, shaped.

     Looking back on my childhood and teenage years, I realize how controlling my mom wanted to be with me and my sister. We were always having to jump through hoops for her. She never gave a direct answer to questions. Especially questions dealing with things like going out, or just doing certain things, trying to have fun. Direct answers to direct questions were hard to come by.

     Except for when she tried to keep us young, like preventing me from taking driving lessons, then not letting me get my driver’s license until way after I was due. My dad wanted to take me to get it, but she made some threat to him that if he did that…whatever.

     My mom began to ruin our relationship shortly after she married my stepdad. They married, then within a month we moved into a house the two of them bought. From then on the changes began. He controlled her, she tried to control us. It was ugly. It was fucking bullshit!

     My sister and I lasted a year and a half in that house. She moved out on her own, I got kicked out. To this day, my mom says she doesn’t remember kicking me out.

     How can someone not remember getting into a bullshit argument over letting their son use the car, but first treating him like some kind of slave? When I rose up and began arguing and questioning the communism parenting, she went into a total rage, grabbed garbage bags from under the kitchen sink, stormed into my room, stuffed those bags with my clothes, threw the bags on the front lawn and told me to get out. How can a mother forget this? She says none of this happened!!

     I have lots and lots of stories that I will get into about my younger years. Everything was fine until I turned 14. Then it was all in the toilet from there. Decisions one makes not only affects the person but a whole bunch of people. Maybe staying with my dad would have been a better choice and her kids may have stayed home a little longer.

     She is just in denial of what has happened. It’s still tense when I talk to her or see her. Especially with my stepdad around. According to that guy, my sister and I were losers. 

     So she has quit reading these posts because she can’t handle them. She wanted my sister and I to live lives different than how we are. She wanted one road for us, but we went down another. We are both happy.My mom? Disappointed.

     I have no problem with my life, or where I came from. Maybe I should just shut the hell up about all this just to make my mom happy for once. NAH!!

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3 Responses to “My Mom And Denial”


  1. 1 sweetiegirlz June 19, 2008 at 11:58 pm

    OMG, dude did we have the same mom? Reading your post, I wanted to cry. Tho my parents were always married and I had no step dad, my mom was the same way and the abuse was so long and strong that I grew up messed up.

    You are very brave not to give in to the control. I admire that.

    My mom kicked me out at 17 in the dead of winter, and she was NOT nice enough to pack my clothes in a trashbag either.

    We are civil today after a gazillion years of counseling but that’s it. Stay strong and true to yourself!!!

    (((hugs))) sweetiegirlz

  2. 2 zeph June 20, 2008 at 2:26 am

    Parents are always a trip. You have an audience. Speak.

  3. 3 4wrdthnkndad June 26, 2008 at 10:47 am

    Keep writing. Find your voice. Your mom may not be able to hear you now or ever. But that is not for you to deal with. It seems like your work is to keep writing your version of history and integrating it into your life. We can all come from the same family and have very different internal reactions to what happened.


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