Inside My Head

the literary rantings of Angie Frissore

Dear mother.

Dear mother,

It’s been almost eight years since we last spoke, with our last exchange resulting in your warning me that, as always, I would “just disappoint myself” again. At every turn, you somehow kept me from taking chances and thwarted any attempt I made to become proficient in my talents. Anything I showed interest in, or was seemingly good at, I was forced to abandon prematurely so as to not outshine my brother in his apparent excellence.  You laid a blanket over my inner light, preventing it from shining as it should. I have since destroyed that blanket.

You not only prevented me from forging my own path early on through manipulation, but also by force. Every negative experience, interaction, or slighted feelings you went through ultimately were projected on to me – with me ending up as the source of all your life woes. You encouraged my solitude at a time when socialization was key to my development. Up until eight years ago, I believed you whenever you told me my attempts would be met with disappointment. Now, I can see that such disappointment was your motivation, and you chose to take any path that would guarantee such a result for me.

You didn’t want me as a baby – something I have been told by various people who, at one time, were close enough to you that you felt comfortable admitting this to. Over the course of my lifetime, you lamented that I refused to breastfeed, instead insisting on bottles from hospital nurses. I have been told by the second person involved in my birth, my father, that you never made such an attempt to breastfeed me. But that didn’t stop you from creating for yourself a justification for your hatred towards me.

You accused me of plotting to break up your marriage – from the age of five – simply because my father loved me. The love existing between father and daughter created a very deep-rooted jealousy within you that I could never comprehend. Instead, I witnessed your strength and prowess as a mother and caregiver to my two brothers, who had somehow won your maternal affection when I could not.

You used violence, shaming, and fear to control me. At an early age, I turned to horror movies, desperate to find something that scared me more than you did. Thirty years later, I have yet to find such a monster. Your actions have caused me to act inappropriately as an adult: negative feedback from a supervisor once caused me to recoil in fear, expecting my supervisor to hit me as you did. That experience shook me to the core.

You interfered with not one, but two pending engagements during my life. You slandered me to anyone who would listen when I confided that my then-boyfriend and I were discussing marriage. Years later, you went above and beyond by having secret conversations with another potential fiancé in which you advised him to do anything but propose to me. You told him I was ‘crazy’ and on heavy medication daily, which was not the case. You told him you loved him, and you didn’t want to see him make a mistake. You should have been saying those words to me, not a stranger.

Looking back, through my own perseverance, I have realized that you were the ‘crazy’ one. You were the one with unresolved mental health issues. You claimed I was the crazy one, when in reality you had already had two stays at a mental health facility in your lifetime. I can’t even claim one in my lifetime.

As I am now dealing with the resulting mental fallout of your actions – as well as your genes – I cannot imagine how difficult life must have been for you. Instead of seeking treatment, you denied there was an issue. You let your mental health suffer in the absence of self-awareness, when that suffering could have been avoided – as well as my own at your hands.

I am letting go of my hatred for you, finally. I don’t believe that you are an evil person. I believe you suffered silently in your own mind, and that suffering also prevented you from realizing you could get better. To this day, you suffer. I no longer do.

While we may never speak to each other again in our lifetimes, I forgive you. I have emerged a stronger, more self-aware person due to what you put me through, and have gained strengths and tools that others aren’t able to tap into – all because of you.

I doubt such forgiveness will allow you to find any peace, but for my own peace, I still forgive you.

Your daughter,
Angie

Advertisements

August 6, 2015 - Posted by | Uncategorized

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: