MOTHER'S DAY

I love my mom. She really doesn't deserve it, but I do. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, call it "battered wife" syndrome, call it crazy, I love her. But enough is enough. I have tried. Really. Given her time. Called her on the phone. Sent her cards. Forgiven her *over* and *over* again. Reached out to her *again* and *again*. Bought her gifts, wrote her checks, even. But to no avail. So, today, Mother's Day 2009, I am officially giving up. I am going to stop trying. Burn my bridges. Sever ties. Goodbye, Mom.
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This is e-mail I received from my mom:

MOTHER'S DAY
Since I'm still not over the whole "write about your mom and post it on the internet" deal, I would rather not see you on Sunday.

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This is what I wrote her back:
Re: MOTHER'S DAY
Okay. Happy Mother's Day anyway.

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And this is what I am writing here:

Are you FUCKING kidding me? No. Really. Are you FUCKING kidding me? You tried to hit me with a phone when you were living in *my* home, being taken *care* of by me when I was in *daily* physical pain, and I write a blog post months later about a nightmare I had in which you were throwing things at me, a dream that pushed me into a months-long depression, and YOU CAN'T GET OVER IT?!

YOU can't forgive ME?!

YOU can't get over THAT?!

I FORGAVE *YOU*!

You, who broke a plastic flyswatter on my ass.

AND I FORGAVE YOU!

You, who left me on the side of a freeway like a piece of *garbage* and drove away.

AND I FORGAVE YOU!

You, who drove into a deserted shopping mall parking lot, 15 miles from home, and told me to get out and then BIT ME (bit me!!!!!!!!!) because I couldn't get out of the back seat of the VW Bug that YOU were sitting in the front seat of and you wouldn't move up the seat.

AND I FORGAVE YOU!

You, who chased me with a BUTCHER KNIFE and I had to run out of the house to an open field to save my life.

AND I FORGAVE YOU!

You, who beat me so black and blue that my sixth-grade gym teacher called Child Protective Services and I spent that weekend in a "facility" for abused children.

All this was before I was even, what, 10 years old!

AND I FORGAVE YOU!

You, who smashed my clock radio on the bathroom door I locked just in time to save myself from yet another beating (I got reprimanded for that, remember? Because *I* broke the clock?!).

AND I FORGAVE YOU!

You, who called me a slut when I was STILL A VIRGIN.

AND I FORGAVE YOU!

You, who told me, "I don't think what I did to you was abuse."

AND I FORGAVE YOU!

You, whose "mothering" skills so TRAUMATIZED her three children that, to this day, NONE of us have kids.

You, who after two years of living in my home, accused me of somehow engineering it so that you would be "helpless" and I could get revenge on you for all these things, telling me I wasn't doing a good job of taking care of you, while I was cooking all your meals for you and checking on you every two hours to make sure you were okay.



And, despite ALL that........I still wanted to spend Mother's Day with my mom. Still wanted to spend it with YOU.

And because of something I wrote FOUR YEARS AGO in a fucking BLOG POST, under a PSEUDONYM,

YOU CAN'T GET OVER IT?!

Well, guess what? I am. I am over it. I am over you. You don't have a mother anymore. Now, neither do I.