We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Monday 28 March 2011

Make A Wish Mummy Dear

Today is my mum's birthday. It's funny how now I remember but before I never did. I haven't seen or spoken to her since 2004. She might be dead for all I know or care. It's strange. I want to hate her. At least then I would have some emotion. Some feeling, but there is just numb. I am not sure if I ever truly loved her. Maybe when I was little. Before I could fully understand her.

The last time I saw her I almost killed her. If my uncle and gramps hadn't pulled me off of her I am certain I would have beaten her to death. I only regret that I didn't finish the job. My last words to her were "Rot in hell bitch" as I spit in her face. That was the last time I really saw anyone in my family.

I won't ever forget that day. I don't remember many days but that day is one I will never forget. My mother never wanted to divorce my father. I don't know if she got off on getting the hell beat out of her or what the attraction was. That day I had found out she had taken  my children to visit him. When I asked her why and how could she? She just looked at me and laughed, asked me if I was "jealous".

That was when I came unglued and began screaming at her. My father is a rapist. I don't use the word "incest" or "molested". Those words are too nice. What my father did was rape. It doesn't matter that I was 4. It doesn't matter that I was his daughter. It was still rape.

Not that anyone in my family ever talked about it. Oh no. No one was allowed to talk about it. Just pretend it didn't happen. But that day all of the rage I had kept bottled inside of me for more than 15 years just exploded.

I grabbed her by the hair of  her head and threw her to the ground, sat on top of her and began pounding. With each hit, I would ask

"WHY?! "

Why didn't you protect me?
Why did you let that man rape me?
Why do you still love him more than me?
Why do you still choose him over me?
Why don't you love me like a mother should love a daughter?

"WHY?!"

As Uncle and Gramps pulled me off of her, she gave me the answer.

"Because you deserved it"

Four little words that tore through me like a bullet. I died that day. That was the day  my whole world began to unravel. That was the day my mind left this world and entered an alternate universe. Four words that no child should ever have to hear. I lost my job, my home, my life because of four words. I had endured pain, sorrow, beatings, rape, torture, fear, but those four words did to me what years of abuse and insanity couldn't. They broke me.

I hated her more than I ever did my father. I blamed her more than I ever blamed him. Even though he did the actions. I blamed her for staying. For loving him instead of me. How bad must a child be that its own mother would love the man who raped her child more than the child itself?


 I am still looking for the answer.





I think I'll find another way
There's so much more to know
I guess I'll die another day
It's not my time to go
"die another day - madonna"

10 comments:

The Little Penmark Girl said...

Some people just don't deserve to exist. I have all sorts of fabulous cliches I could use, but these people aren't worth any of them, no matter how cheap and overused they are. And these people surely don't deserve your thoughts. THEY are the definition of fucked up, not us.

Maasiyat said...

Someone needs to give the world your dictionary. I think I like it better than theirs.

Sapphire Dragonflies said...

I agree, Aimee's dictionary is spot on. I will say this though...it's easier for her to blame you than it is for her to put the blame where it belongs. For people like this I just carry with me the knowledge that whatever punishment they have in the afterlife will far exceed any punishment they inflicted upon me here on earth.

neve@edgeofcrazy said...

Oh Maasiyat I'm so sorry that ever happened to you. Trust me, this is not coming from a place of pity, because I'm guessing you hate pity as much as any person who has looked their fucked-up life in the face and survived. And you are a survivor, always know that. Your mom is a seriously fucked up individual, I can't even call her a person. Anyone who would let that happen to their child has serious mental problems. Our mental issues we are dealing with, our abuse/neglect we are dealing with. I commend you for staying alive and finding your way out of that dark place.

Natasha Tracy said...

Oh hon, I'm so sorry. My mother, not such a nice person either.

One day, a long time ago, someone told me this:

"I feel compassion for your mother. She must be in such pain to act that way."

As you would imagine, I told the woman who said this to fuck right off. My mother didn't deserve compassion, _I_ did.

But here's the thing, that woman was right. I couldn't hear her at the time, but she was, in fact, right.

Any mother that treats you the way your mother did is a person with serious mental issues and is in extreme pain. I'm not saying you have to feel compassion for her, what I'm saying is, it wasn't about you. Not at all. It was all about what was going on inside her head. And I would bet she is extremely tormented, not just by what she has done, but whatever drove her to it.

It's OK if you want to tell me to fuck right off. I don't mind. But really, there is peace in understanding someone else's pain. Without a doubt, you didn't deserve it, it was wrong. You deserved so much better. But it wasn't about you. It was about her pain.

- Natasha Tracy.

Maasiyat said...

Actually Natasha, in a way I agree with you. Whoever can do something like that has to be in some sort of something. When I wrote this post I was actually shocked at how mcuh emotion I felt. I have alot more I want to say regarding this incident but I was so overcome by the "rawness" of my emotions I couldn't get it out. Hopefully now that I have allowed myself to feel this I will be able to better express myself.

Work in progress. Thank you for stopping by. It means alot to have your input on what I write.

Maasiyat said...

Not that others input doesn't mean anything. I hope I didn't offend anyone. It's just different on the inside. I appreciate everyone who has commented.

not displayed said...

I have no words, only tears for a little girl who didnt deserve it.
You had a right to be protected.

hed said...

Okay, breaking my "no more blogs" rule and following yours. Don't tell anyone...

As for this post. I just...I don't know what to say. Sorry isn't enough. All of that, all of it-it wasn't your fault.

hed

Maasiyat said...

Your secret is safe with me. I keep telling myself that, maybe some day I will believe it.

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