‘I think moms putting us against each other.’ The whirlwind in my heard seemed to solidify to this one sentence and I was powerless against stopping it from making its presence known by way of yelling it across Starbucks.
But there it was, a solid, stand alone sentence that held so much for my sister and I.
The meaning that stood behind it meant our mother, had been playing us all against each other, causing such a chaos within our family that it drove a wedge so far into each of our
We had spent a couple of stupid years holding bitterness against each other, brought forth by our own mother.
The other day my sister said it perfectly:
I find myself being bitter and jealous that she (our little sister) gets the best of mom. I had wished she had even shown me an ounce of that energy she bestows on her.
Maybe things would have been different.
The truth is, Is that I don’t understand what changed.
I know her ACEs score is high and I fear her not getting mental health help has caused her brain to simply decay.
Because it was always bad; but not THIS bad.
This ‘mom’ is not the mother of my childhood. I didn’t know a parent could harvest this much hate and resentment, and enough so to cause a disaster everywhere she went.
After reading A Boy Called It…I understood more.
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