I didn't love my mum, I never did. In particular I didn't like the way she smelled. When forced to be close to her, I felt like puking.
I couldn't let her know what I was experiencing, no way. One rule overruled all other rules: "Thy must honor their parents". Respect them and love them, no matter what! So I was a bad bad little girl with bad bad feelings... I hated her intensly. No way to escape than withdrawing in myself and my own wonderful world. That's the way I remember childhood - much, much fear, but also a happy time, with myself. Had lots of friends, but I didn't need them to enjoy myself, I still don't - I like my own company.
It took me 18 years untill I finally dared to write down how I really felt about my mother: "I HATE HER!" I stared for a long time at the words I had written, experiencing extensive fear, waiting for some furious being to come to drag me to hell. Like my mum always told me. She wasn't right. Nothing happened.
I was so afraid of my mother, I was convinced she had some kind of supernatural powers - she told me more than once after death she would come back and haunt me. That I had murdered the baby in her belly because I was a bad little girl. I remember this nightmare as if it happened yesterday - it was dark, I was in my bed and then silently the door opened and my mother came in. In her arms she had this little dead baby. She looked at me with these devilish eyes and put the baby on my nightstand and went away. There I was in the dark with this dead baby...
He, I am sweating here, my hearts beating, maybe it wasn't just a nightmare and did this really happen. I do not want to write this down, because then it becomes true and who knows, maybe the devil will come and get me tonight. Or worse, my mum herself. I know this ain't gonna happen, but this fear is completely embedded in me as a system and never could get rid of it entirely. So I am observing me, my body in particular...
My belly is 'blurping', these little noises and bubbles and there is something with my eyes, I don't know, some small move aside in my vision. It feeles tensed.
- I forgive myself for allowing myself not wanting to face this fear.
- I forgive myself for allowing myself to think that facing this fear means death.
- I forgive myself for allowing myself to think that going public with this means betrayal of my mother.
- I forgive myself for allowing myself to define nonbetrayal as 'love'.
- I forgive myself for allowing myself to think I will read this tomorrow and then delete it because it is sentimental stuff.
- I forgive myself for allowing myself to judge 'sentimental'.
- I forgive myself for allowing myself to fear my mother could 'appear' any moment and look at me with these devilish eyes...
to be continued
Ingrid
My mother the Demon part 2
My mother the Demon part 3 - Finale
Mommocking
The Devil in her Eyes
Saying Goodbye to my Mom
