Enough is enough.

Several of my friends have been told about my mother. Now, I don't mean to write a blog post to slag her off or speak ill of her but...no. No, I totally mean that. I need to vent somewhere my sister can't read it.

My mother was a good mother. Was, up until I was about fourteen. Since most of my early teen years are very, very hazy and filled with holes, I'll start with the year before last.

Late 2009, my mum had an operation to remove a tumour on her heart. Yes, she nearly died, but she was fine. I took over household chores for a while, until she had gotten better. But when she did, that's when things got ugly. She started to treat me like everything that went wrong was my fault. I told her kids at my  new school bullied me, and she just shrugged it off ( I was severely bullied throughout school). Teachers ignored and verbally abused me, she ignored me too. Whenever I tried to stand up for myself, I got blamed for being violent or destructive. But no one, not even my mother, tried to help.

Of course, we fought. Occasionally things got physical. She cried to my father and siblings and told them that I had been the first to strike out. The first time, she was screaming in my face, hysterical, spitting. So I slapped her as a knee-jerk response. I don't deny that. But she was totally hysterical. What else was I supposed to do? The second time, she was screaming at me and holding my upper arm so hard it was more-or-less instantly bruised. She told everyone I "punched" her. I can't punch. I hit her, yes, because she was hurting me rather severely.


She's continued to demonise me in her mind. She displays symptoms like a paranoid schizophrenic or manic-depressive. She reacts badly to everything I tell her, like everything that goes wrong with me is a personal attack on her. A few days before my birthday, she literally screamed at me, til her throat swelled...because I was too sick to eat tacos or pasta for dinner.


She's set herself to hate my best friend, because he's a boy. I mean, she was cool with the blackmailer and the sexual abuser, because they were girls. But as soon as I have someone who loves me, and cares for me, and cherishes me, it's unnacceptable, because he has an (enormous) penis.


Every time things are looking up for me, suddenly, she's there, ready to bring me down. Found out I might be moving back to near where she lives? Screamed bloody murder. God forbid she finds out I might move to Melbourne.


God help us when I'm pregnant, too.


That'll do, cat. That'll do.