My mom doesn’t see her worth due to a lifetime of abuse and I wish I could show her how much she means to so many people but I’m just a kid and she doesn’t listen..
She didn’t come home again. I didn’t give my hopes up this time though. I think this is the fourth time this week now, plus Sissy said I better start being a big girl and getting used to it. Now that I am getting older, eleven going on twelve in a month and 21 days, I am starting to realise that adults have more important things to do than kids sometimes so I understand why mommy can’t always be there when I need to tell her about something that is going on.
Like at school today when the kids pushed me and barricaded me in the sand pit because they said that was where I belonged. They say my hair stinks and looks like a bird could nest in there and never know the difference.
Mom hasn’t been able to buy me new shoes since I was ten so I had to cut a slit in the back so my heel could have a little more room, but the kids seem to find that funny. They seem to get new shoes every year, I am not sure if it’s from Santa or if their mom could buy them shoes like that but, because I don’t have the same things that they have, they seem to find it sort of funny. But I don’t. I know my mom tries hard but sometimes she meets a guy who ends up making life harder for her.
She doesn’t seem as strong as the women I see in the movies, she seems to cower down when Ralphie pushes her to the ground, and there are times he screams in her face and she just agrees with whatever he says even when it doesn’t seem like normal things.
Maybe they don’t seem normal simply because I am a kid and I don’t understand, as mom would always say. Maybe I will understand when I am her age.
I just think she deserves so much more.. Ralphie isn’t a good man..and I don’t know where he takes her all the time but when she comes back she is more retreated into herself than usual. I hate it. Because it’s like my Mom is there but isn’t really there. She has a vacant look in her eye and stares into nothingness, as if she’s in some different world in her mind. Maybe she pictures a better life for herself in there.
At least that’s what I hope, but at times it seems like she’s reliving past experiences, or day dreaming her own made up experiences in her mind, I’m not sure. But all I know is she I will see different emotions in her eyes, and when she starts to whimper or whine in pain it makes me think as if she’s reliving the fear of something she hates. Because she looks so sad. More sad than I ever seen a person. And I have seen lots of people cry, but the look in Mom’s eyes when she seems to be in this mind world, is a look sad enough to break anyone’s heart. Even if you didn’t know her.
I have witnessed strangers trying to help her when she wanders off in the middle of the night limping down the street, with her hood on and head down, tears streaming down her face, and a uncontrollable whimper as she sobbed. If I opened my window I would hear it a block a way, the echo of the street surely amplifying it.
I guess strangers heard the same sadness in her voice that I did because there were times I seen the neighbours coming out in their housecoats even at times, trying to see if she was alright. She never accepted any help, or even told anyone what was wrong, she just brushed them off with a hand saying she was fine—at least that’s what it seemed like from my window— and went on her way.
I think the neighbors started to think she was crazy walking around either in her thin pajamas, or dressed to the nine in a tight dress and heels, as the weather proceeded to stay below 0 for the last 4 months at least. This time of year most people would think you’d be crazy to dress like her in the Nevada winter. Especially where we are, closer to the top of the mountain where the wind hits even harder.
Sometimes I don’t even understand why Mom does this, but she is my Mom and I love her and I try to understand.
I never seem to be able to help though even though all I seem to think about is her and how badly I want things to be better for her, my efforts go unnoticed. Or I bring her level of agitation up a notch it even seems at times.
All I want to do is help Mom.. I wish you would understand. I wish me and Sissy were old enough to take you somewhere far away from Ralphie, somewhere warm, so if you wanted to have your long walks at night time, you wouldn’t freeze to the bone. I wish I had the money Mom. I will one day and I will give you everything you deserve. Because I know how hard you tried for me.
I am too young to understand what is going on but I am old enough to know that you are one of the biggest hearted ladies I have ever met, you would give your own shoes to a stranger if you thought their feet were cold (which I have seen you do before when we went to the Square in Midtown and there we’re people everywhere asking for money), and I am not just saying this because you are my Mom, but I am surely wise enough to know that a woman like you deserves better.
I am too young to know what happened along the way and know what brought you to where you are. I mean it’s hard to ever know how people become the way they are.
I know great Grand Daddy was mean to grandpa and put too much pressure on him, in turn made him a tough man with no skills at showing emotion in anyway other than anger and ‘tough love’, and I know you never had it that good either Mom because of that. But I am too young to know why you decided to accept this life for yourself.. I wish I knew.. But I don’t.
All I know is you do deserve better, in spite of all the times you call yourself worthless and that you weren’t meant for anything but to adhere to other peoples needs your whole life.
I remember when I was younger you told us we all had a purpose here and a opportunity to help impact the world in a positive or negative way depending on how we decide to live our lives. You told me our ‘purpose’ would come to us, our calling would be granted to us one day we just had to be patient.
You told me your calling was to help the men who came into your life who needed care, men who never had the proper care they should have had while growing up, men who needed some sort of security and promise. I never fully understood. I still don’t.
Because Mom, someone like you couldn’t possibly only have one purpose here and that purpose being to be a rag doll for all the men who we’re never fully loved properly growing up. Men who never learnt to adapt to a normal society and follow the values of a regular human. You deserve way better than that Mom. It is not your fault or your responsibility to fix the people who have been hurt by someone else. Not everyone could be fixed.
They need some sort of doctor to help, there is no going back and reliving life therefore they need to learn to cope with normal life in a way that is respected instead of allowing their internal anger of the past spew out at every important part of life.
But it’s not your job mom. It’s the doctors job. You can’t fix these men. They will drain you and kill your spirit indefinitely before you even get close to doing so.
Is it because your grandpa was so messed up due to the actions of his dad that made you want to help these men? I knew how much you loved your dad, you said you we’re the only one who could see through the tough exterior and see it was just a shell of the man of who he was on the inside. You said he couldn’t help it, it was the way he wasn’t nurtured as a child, resulting in the egotistical, mean man he was today.
It always made me sad when you talked about how much you thought this world was messed up. That people have good hearts and the potential to be such good people but because of the way that the people who are supposed to love and protect them, treat them as a child makes all the difference. You said there we’re so many wasted bodies that could have had the potential to be so much better if it wasn’t for the demon in the human soul who thwarted these people from seeing things the way they we’re supposed to see them.
It makes me sad because you mom, are one of those people who have the potential for so much but you try so hard to help other people that it’s killing you mom. I see the exhaustion in your face all the time, I see it in all that you do. You’re dying on the inside. Your mind is fleeing. You’re not the same as you used to be.. I see it in your eyes, the life is being sucked out of you. You are becoming a shell. Just like you said grandpa was. You said you seen the real him, while everyone else only seen the demon. That’s why you withdrew yourself from people you said, because a lot of people simply couldn’t see the truth. They were blinded, you explained. Unable to grasp that the experiences we go through and never being heard your whole life really could shape you into a person who grows to hate the world that has seemed to do nothing but disappoint them their whole lives. I see you though.
I didn’t understand that too much when I was little, but now that I have gotten older I see it mom. I see it in you. I see how the world and the people in it has disappointed you so much to the point where you feel like there is no point. People don’t see, they don’t understand and they never will, so might as well play the charade.
But I see the pain in your eyes momma and it kills me. I know you see yourself as a demon sometimes, but mom I don’t see you like that and I know I never will. I see you like you seen grandpa. I think I understand now.
There’s so much you can do in this life momma, I only wish I knew how to help you. But I am just a kid, and are grown and there’s nothing I seem to do that can help you. But I miss you momma, so much. I miss the light I used to see in your eyes. You seem to be losing more and more hope as the years go by and lately it has been scaring me more than usual because it almost seems as if the light burnt out completely and that there is little hope in getting it back.
You have become more withdrawn.. The days that you are even here at least.
You’re physically gone most of the time and mentally gone all the time. I’m not sure where you go but I know when you come back you seem less like mom than you were when you left. And each time you come back you’re less and less of yourself.
I miss you Momma, so much. I need you. You we’re the one who taught me and showed me first hand that this time was crucial in a person’s life. I need you now more than ever. Sissy tries, but she’s not enough. I need my Momma. I need to hold your hand when the kids are mean and cuddle up with you on the couch drinking hot chocolate like we used to, when you told me everything would be alright. That I had the whole world at my fingertips and the choice to do whatever I want in this huge world. That the powers and strength of my mind would help me get whatever I desire in this world. That time when you had that light. All the light. And all the hope in the world it seemed.
Where did it go Mom? What happened? I miss it, I miss you. I need your light back. Or I’m not sure where I am going either.
Little less what’s now, little more what’s next. Because this isn’t it for us, or for you. This world has so much more to offer and I will show you soon Mom. I promise.
If you are interested in reading more real life fiction like this check out the section of my site called Worthwhile Reads.
If you are interested in reading about a variety of different subjects such as mental health, inside the minds of disturbed artists, the importance of being an introvert, importance of body language and non-verbal communication, the importance of mental rehearsal and imagery, the power of our minds, mindfulness, metaphysics and the cosmic world and how all the great genius’ of the past have tapped into this power to achieve seeming miracles, addiction, abuse, the effects loneliness and so much more, please check out some of my other posts:
