Dear Mom
  

I sat there, with my hands over my ears. I listened to my mother scream at my brother through the receiver with equal fault. She always spoke into the phone louder than needed. You know, one of those people. We'd be driving in the car and her phone would ring and she would curse the modern day technology because she couldn't figure out how to answer the damn thing, then she scream into it, "Hello?" The entire conversation I would be cringing at every one of her words and sometimes I would put my finger in my ear. Keep in mind this was just a normal phone talk, not the angry ones she has with my dad or brother. Anyway, my sister and I would tell her that the phone picks up sound with accuracy and she didn't need to yell, but it was useless. Anyway, needless to say, when she really did mean to yell at the person on the other line, it was blood curdling. I am a person who gets very tense at loud noises: our dog barking, my sister yelling at me because I didn't ask to borrow her clothes, my brother yelling at my father because he didn't buy the right bread so when he made his sandwiches all the condiments would fall out, my mother at me for various reasons. But for some reason, I like loud music, screamo. Now, don't just picture me as a rebellious teenager with dyed hair, heavy eyeliner, and black nails just because I mentioned I like screamo. That's not how it is. I like rock because of the energy. It's energy that is usually used in my house negatively but somehow these amazing artists have made this energy into music. Yeah, that’s right. Despite all the adults saying 'It's not even music. It's just a bunch of screaming!' Well, now you have another point of view. 
Anyway, I have a lot of anger. A lot. And it's not always there just beneath the surface where it shows on my face. I am not brooding. I do not walk around everyday with a cloud over my head. The anger surfaces when it's pulled to the top, triggered by tension, sadness, or pain. When I get in a screaming match with my mom, the anger surfaces because she isn't listening to me! She hears and says she is listening, but the future repeats itself proving she did not listen. When tension builds in the house, another trigger, it's the tension is a magnet and anger its mate. Even if the tension isn't directed at me, like my brother and sister are fighting, I am still affected. Point being, I am sensitive. Do I like it? No. I try to be more hard skinned but I all I am successful at is appearing to be untouched, but inside I just create more tension... more anger.
What do I do with all this anger? I used to cut myself (Don't go picturing another black nailed girl who admits she cuts to strangers she just met for attention. I merely do it because I have not and will never meet you. I am sure that is a disappointment on my behalf because I am pretty sure there are some great folks on this site.). But then my family found out and all hell broke loose. I hurt too many people that I love way too much. I saw them crying at my expense because of a few scratches on my thighs. And those people hurt by me just created deeper wounds that will never heal. So I stopped. So then I started to just write and draw. It worked for a while, but the poems and stories were all dark and people got the wrong idea, especially my mom. When she found my writings (because she thinks it's fine to snoop through my documents because the computer they were saved on was in her house, ergo those documents were hers.) she just started treating me like I was a rebellious teen attacking her. She was the victim. Back to the point, I stopped writing for a while and was at a loss of methods to cope with the pain. Well, now, when I get angry, because I don't want to hurt anyone I love I just want to hurt myself... physically. To be quite frank, I wouldn't mind hurting a few people; give them one of those un-healable wounds that are caused by seeing how you've hurt someone. But I can't do that without hurting people that I don't want to be hurt. Well, I have stopped myself from digging my nails in my arms and worse. Instead, I'd scream with my music until my throat hurt. But I could only do that when no one was home because otherwise they'd think I just wanted attention. So then I always wanted to be alone. That way, I could scream. It worked. Until now. Now I am dog tired and down with this crap. This morning my mom started complaining because she had to clean up someone else’s mess in the kitchen. I wanted to scream until my throat bled from being raw. See, when she asks us to clean up something that is not our mess we do the exact same thing. Complain. But then she yells right back, "I don't care whose mess it is, clean it up! Stop complaining!" Yeah, excuse me mom, it's called being a hypocrite. So I confronted her. And was does that do? She gets really defensive and then starts yelling at me. Then comes her second line of defense. Guilt. She sends me on this guilt trip like, "I know I'm a horrible mom! Don't you think I get sick of you always beating me up for my mistakes?" Again, she's the victim. Then, I just want to scratch my eyes out. She has enough nerve to sit there; accusing me of beating her up for her every mistake. Well, when I miss a spot on the plate after cleaning it (yeah she makes us clean the plates before we put them in the dishwasher.) she yells at me more, telling me that I never learn. It was a simple goddamn mistake! I just missed one fucking spot and she rubs my nose in it like a dog that peed on the carpet. But, when I go the extra mile, not only cleaning my own dish perfectly, but everyone else’s and load the dishwasher, my good deed goes unnoticed. 
Whatever. She'll never listen. I have cried in the adjacent chair to hers and she hasn't noticed, or she has and decides that I just want negative attention and ignore. The truth is, yeah, I want attention. But only from my mother. I want her to care when I threaten to run away. I want her to actually care why I listen to the music that I do. I want her to care why I decided to leave those nail indents on my arm where no clothing concealed it. I wanted her to notice. I want her to notice. 
She thinks that its just a phase... I wonder if she'll think that when I never speak to her again after I move out. 

Dear mom, 
    You aren't the only one who feels their mother cheated them. I'll wait, but I don't have forever. 


(a/n: thank you for reading. I am sorry if I just wasted 2o minutes of your day. But if it helps, just know that you have made the rest of my day all because you listened and let me vent. I really, really appreciate it. Thank you.)     


Comments:
 
G_Money   G_Money wrote
on 10/16/2008 8:34:59 AM
It wasn't a waste. I know mothers like that. Hang in there and keep writing. It is survivable :)

vwhitlock   vwhitlock wrote
on 9/16/2008 3:15:10 PM
Powerful and insightful! Great read!

lindsay   lindsay wrote
on 9/2/2008 9:57:17 AM
I am glad you have found an outlet in writing, you have a great way with words. I hope you find peace with your mother.

raven_ink
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Feel the fear, and do it anyway because even though it's not too late, one day, it will be.

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Synopsis
I only scratched the surface. But if this could help any other mothers listen to there daughters or sons and understand were their teens are coming from, than it was so much more than worth it.
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