Mother..

He was right in saying that I was trapped here in this house. Because I've come to realize that he was right. My relationship at home was the very core that I could not escape. How could he know this though? I've never opened up to anybody before, certainly not a boy. Not this boy, I mean. Do you know what its like to absolutely loathe the woman you're supposed to call mother? I do. Do you find yourself having so much anger over choices made by others, when you have no say in the matter? I do. I get so angry I cry. My discomfort in life, in this house.. it comes from years of pretending like I wanted to belong. I grew up hating my mother because somewhere along the way she'd forgotten that she had five kids and not just one. I had found comfort from bar patrons and adults that I hadn't even fathomed knowing, let alone getting along with. These people changed my life. These people saved me. These adults made me who I am today.

My relationship with my mother was strained until the age of twenty-one. I don't exactly remember the cross-over, but we'd found a peaceful ground and we ran with it. This might go down as one move in my life, that I do regret. But maybe thats the great thing about mothers? They're the only people in the world that can single handedly make and break you. Surely I can't be the only one?

When we suffered, we unfortunately did it as a team. When did I sign up for this team and how do I get out of my contract? There is no doubt in my mind that one hundred percent of the blame goes to my mother. She is holding me back and that I've always known. It feels like a "I didn't get it, so why should you" deal? Don't even get me started on the guilt trips. Sometimes they're so bad you feel them right down to the bone. Words always have a way of breaking a person more than anything known to man.