Estranged Daughter

Dear reader, I know you’re not unintelligent, on the contrary I just believe you deserve an explanation. When someone smacks you across the face, it’s an attack. Assault is blatant, and there is no mistaking it. As someone who’s gotten their ass handed to them before, trust me. Whether at the hand of my evil mother, or this one punk kid that beat me up when I was nine. I’ve had my fair share of time in the ring, just usually on the defensive. When someone is harming you with the intent of harming you, it’s personal but almost reasonable. The abuser is a horrible person and there is something wrong with them, a screw is loose. It is much easier to rationalize as a child, not accept. I’m not downplaying the psychological effects of physical abuse either, that’s not the point of my monologue today. I’m just saying dear reader neglect is deceitful, you don’t even know it’s happening. At this point it has been about six years since I escaped the abusive household, and about one year since I’ve spoken to my estranged mother. A lot has happened since then, to this day as I write this I’m still uncovering new ways I was neglected as a child. Things that made my home life unalike any of my peers, oh but we were transcendent. I’ve bragged about my hardships to people and have earned frowns, that I now can understand. It wasn’t extraordinary that I was cooking meals for my siblings at eight years old on an open fire stove, successfully might I add. Sorry, I can’t help myself dear reader I’m a Capricorn- I like to brag. It’s not spectacular that my mom left unattended drugs and alcohol scattered and around for us to sample at young ages. Hey, I was a curious kid again dear reader I couldn’t help myself. My brother and I shared our first cigarette in the bathroom of my moms old apartment, we we’re probably seven and six. It comes to you in waves, almost like your brain wants to protect you from the truth too. The truth hurts, and the truth is that my mom just didn’t give a fuck. I don’t even feel the need to go into detail it’s very straightforward.

My mom never enforced that we go to school, she has even been in trouble for it. Truancy, did you know they have their own little division. They come and get the uncooperative, incorrigible child or the neglectful parent. Usually it’s the first one, I know you’re smart- reader; who’s going to turn themselves in for being a bad parent? I was also a smart kid and my mom knew it, everyone knew it. Not saying that I lack intelligence now, but had I been nourished and pushed imagine how much further I would be in the real world. I’m doing alright but life is complicated I had to work extra hard and it’s literally the law, you have to go to school. I loved school, sometimes she wouldn’t take us because she was tired. I know she doesn’t see the value in education as an uneducated person. But, how did she do it? Some how she got away with it, she always gets away with it. The world is so forgiving when it’s not your first offense as a shitty person. It’s almost expected of my mother: who was expelled in eighth grade for setting the school on fire. The girl who got knocked up at sixteen, and the same one who went to jail two years later for domestic violence. Santa already has my mothers name down on the naughty list, her poor choices rarely surprise anyone anymore. Our relatives and friends have grown callused to her defective behavior. So, dear reader it’s almost effortless to disregard the abuse and neglect. She’ll get it right one day, we all make mistakes. Bullshit.