“Where’s the folder with all my tax papers?” Dad
“Just at our aunt’s house.” Me
“Why didn’t you bring it home?” Dad

(Source: fear-communication)

           “No one can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start now and make a new ending.” Inspirational but not my topic.  “Friendship is like peeing in your pants, everyone can see it but only you can feel it.”  Funny but also not my topic. “Go die.” That’s my topic.

            Here’s my story on fast forward.  Basically, my mom holds grudges so everything my dad’s been doing wrong has been piling up on top of each other and has never been forgiven or forgotten.  It started getting worse the 2^nd semester of my junior year when my mom’s only reason to come home was to sleep and take me to school the next day.  Then summer came and I could have seen her maybe 5 times for those 2 and a half months.  Anyways, senior year began and my mom started coming home in the mornings and taking me to school like usual.  Even though the car ride couldn’t have been any more than 5 minutes, it seemed like hell.  I couldn’t start off my day with questions like “Did your dad die yet?” or “Where did you bury your sister?”.  I told my mom that I would carpool with my friends.  Ever since then I only see my mom when I am needed or holidays.  Weird since my parents aren’t legally divorced or separated.

            Now that we are caught up.  About three months ago from today, I get a text from my mom to come over to my auntie’s house to help my little cousin with homework.  Once, I got there I walk to her new room and say “Hi momma!” and as my lips just touched her forehead I hear “Go die,” Slip through her lips.  Those have been the last words she has said to me that did not have anything to do with her taxes for my FAFSA.

            To keep sane and not annoy my friends as much with my life, during my junior year, I began writing anonymous columns for our school newspaper about how screwed up my family is which led to this letter to my mom.

            I’m really sorry mom.  I’m sorry the house got so bad that you had to move out.  I’m sorry that you can’t even talk to me without wanting to yell at the top of your lungs.  I’m sorry that you felt you had to literally kick me off the couch.  I really am sorry for all of that and everything else I did wrong.  I just need it to be your turn.  It’s time for you to say sorry for who I turned out to be.

            I need an apology for leaving me when I needed you most.  I’m a senior in high school, this is a big mile stone in my life but I don’t have a mom to share it with.  It kills me inside to see everyone else telling their moms about their day, teachers, relationships, and anything else they’re going through, but I’m sitting here thinking about where you could possibly be.

            I need an apology for making me not believe in marriage.  You act like a child when it comes to problems.  You can’t talk about any of it because I know you’re scared of confrontations.  I know this because I take it after you.  Marriage seems worthless when I look at yours and dads.  To be honest, I was a little happy that you guys were finally getting a divorce.  It meant you guys could finally move on but the sad thing is that the only thing keeping you guys together is our culture.

             I need an apology for all the hurtful things you’ve said to me.  The worst one you’ve said to me that I will never be able to forget is “If I knew you were going to be like this, I would have held your nose shut when you were a baby.”  Because of that I no longer want to have kids.  I never even want to have a chance of making them go through what I am.

            I want it to be the way it used to be.  I want to go back to when I was 2 because when I cried you held me and made the tears go away.  Now you’re the source of them.  I still love you mom and I always will.  Even though we’ve never said it to each other without a sarcastic tone because it’s too Americanized for our culture to do so.  I wish we had because then maybe I wouldn’t be so mad at you right now but it’s not like that.  I’m mad that you know nothing about me.  Like did you know I got nominated to be homecoming queen?  Did you know I actually won?  Did you know you would be the only person I could tell that I was soooo happy to hear my name and everyone clapping and cheering without sounding self-centered?  Did you know I used to cry every night and still do when I think about you because you left?  Did you know I can’t even write this without having to stop after every paragraph to wipe my tears?  Did you know I am no longer sad? These tears aren’t pain but now anger.

            Everyone asks me why I try to build a relationship with you when I never get a good reaction back from you.  Even though I don’t admit to it, it’s because I really do need you.  So how many sorrys do I have to say for you to come home? Tell me and I promise I’ll say 10,000 more.

            Before this visual essay becomes too long.  I’ll explain the point of it.  I am who I am today because of my mom.  If you’ve been wondering why I view life so differently, its because of her.  Everyone says “friends come and go but family sticks with you.”  That quote has been mythbusted.

            To those of you who have lost your mom, I am truly sorry and I give you my sympathy.  For those who have a mom who you can talk to about funny, loud and weird teachers, about your relationships, about how frustrating, exciting, sad, boring, or eventful your day was, consider yourself very lucky.

(Source: fear-communication)

     I fear you. It kills me to say that you’ve become the monster under my bed that I was terrified of when I was a child. This is why I lack confrontational skills. You always make me feel inferior and that I can never disagree with you. You’re never wrong and I will never be right. I’m suppose to be an adult now and be able to go at least one day without having to make up a lie for you, it’s sad that I can’t even picture that day. My racing heart, frustration, blood boiling sentiments are because of you. I wish I could talk to you about why I’ve been having all these anxiety attacks that makes it hard to do anything, not to mention breathe. I wish we had a better understanding for each other but we’re the total opposite. I know nothing about you and you know absolutely nothing about me. I thought our relationship was growing stronger after a few heart to hearts and I even began to fantasize about our future relationship getting to the point where I told you everything. The point where I could finally stop writing these letters that I could never send. If I was dreaming when we said “I love you” to each other for the first time, then I never want to wake up.

     You put and raised me in another world. A world where anyone can easily influence my thoughts, ideas, and morals. This world is filled with creatures that haunt me when I have a decision to make. My mindset has been brainwashed to take in and fulfill every command.  In this world I am defenseless. These creatures have an army of thousands and I have an army of one. The only survival strategy I’ve come to find is to adapt with my surroundings. When you’re like everyone else, you don’t stand out and people don’t question you. When I slip up and have my own opinions, thats when the war begins. The battles aren’t with the army and I. It’s just me on this empty battlefield of unattainable words. The right words seem to blow up and the wrong ones always surface to the frontline, leaving me to appear weak and vulnerable. You left me stranded on this world eighteen years ago without any training and I’m still struggling to survive.

     You’ve raised me to be this effective innovator whose thoughts are stimulated by the slightest epiphanies but all my thoughts have been masked by what you pushed most, obedience. I could have been a cultivated visionary who composed thoughts greater than you and I could possibly imagine but I could never get my ideas across to others because the ability to be different, to be myself, was never exercised in the household. You told me to be more like my sister because of her intelligence when I failed in vocabulary courses and I was expected to be more like my brother because of his masculinity when I cried over nothing. When you were trying so hard to mold me into someone I wasn’t you missed all my accomplishments. I might not have been able to translate words but I could help math solve all it’s problems, but you couldn’t see that. I might have cried because I was finally strong enough to leave my ex when I realized I could do better, but you couldn’t know that. I wasn’t allowed to be myself because I was never good enough.

(Source: fear-communication)