Dear Mom,

This should be the end, but it’s not, because now, recovery is a part of my day-to-day. Like drinking water and changing my underwear.

This isn’t meant to make you feel bad- but if the shoe fits, then lace it up and buckle up because I have a lot to unpack.

Let me first start off by actually thanking you for what you’ve done for me. Clothed me, made sure I was fed, had a roof over my head, and always something to do. It didn’t go unnoticed, and I’m not ungrateful. But here’s the thing. I didn’t ask to be brought into this world. You made that decision for me and providing basic necessities of life is in fact within the scope of your responsibilities as a parent. Not mine. While I do agree that I asked for more than my share of toys and books, I never demanded or felt entitled to have materialistic things. I asked for a cat though, and even that was too much.

Growing up, I will admit, was confusing to see why my siblings hated you so much. I use the term hate because that’s what it is. I can’t say that they “rage you so much” or that they “anger you so much” because let’s be honest, it doesn’t make sense, but that’s what it is. Hate. Anyway, I was not around for the fights, or the destructive and explosive abuse that happened because He made sure I was preoccupied upstairs or outside with my friends. When I did see it, I thought, ‘Man, why are they so mean to mom! She is the coolest, and the most loving…’ but that’s because this is the side you showed me.

It took going to counseling in elementary school, to deal with some upcoming emotional and behavior problems, that they didn’t want you to ignore. But you did, and you didn’t allow me to keep going. It took counseling in middle school, and high school to understand that the signs were there, but they were being ignored, greatly in part by me. I agree, this is my fault. I put your needs ahead of my own. Put your addictions ahead of my own. Did not take care of myself, because I was caring for you. Did I have my selfish moments? Yeah. I learned how to be selfish despite what I was doing to myself for you.

I’m in the most intensive therapy I think one could ever be apart of. It took having a four-hour conversation for me to realize that every time I sought help, was me trying to prevent what is happening in my adult life. I will not forgive myself for not believing my siblings sooner. I can forgive myself for being mad at them and for hating them for leaving me behind, because they weren’t my parent. You were. I was not their responsibility. I was yours. Do I kind of resent them for not taking me away from you, yes. But whose to say they would be where they are now, if they had?

In my newest sessions, I have learned a few things. How resentful I am, of you. There was never a good month that occurred, where you weren’t trying to kill yourself, or crying in your closet wishing you were dead. There wasn’t a moment, where you weren’t mad at me simply for just existing. I discovered that when I was nine. I believed that when I was 17. I know that now, because that’s all I knew.

When you’re a parent, you should never let your child see that you don’t want them. You should never allow them to feel like their existence is causing you grief or pain. As a child, we should be able to distinguish what’s healthy and what isn’t, regarding behavior, and know that it’s okay to stay away from it. You teach us that hot is hot and cold is cold. If it looks gross, don’t eat it. If it’s offered to you by a stranger don’t take it. These are common sense actions, yet we’re just supposed to accept when someone isn’t treating us right, because why, you’re my mother?

I’ve repressed a lot of damaging and traumatic events, “in the name of you being my mom” and I’ve learned that just because you gave birth to me, doesn’t mean I have to accept that as my fate. I chose to block you off and delete our relationship from existence because I must heal. I need to come out of this okay.

There are a few secrets I wish that you were aware that I knew. Like your alcohol stash in the closet. Or your sex filled dates coming in and out of the house. Or that you wishing you never had me. Had any of us. The most painful thing that I do not think I will ever recover from is you trying to swallow a bottle of pills because I found out how low you really think of me. Was that guilt you were feeling? Or embarrassment?

Therapy has worked well this time around. I’m able to talk about certain things without crying or being hysterical. I’m able to recognize negative behaviors or negative coping skills. I’ve come to realize I’m thankful for you, for choosing to keep me. I’m grateful for the person I am aside of my traumas and personality problems. I’ve developed a lot of amazing qualities because of you.

What I am truly thankful for is that fact that you are not around to see how this will end.

Warmly,