nobody08's profile

Dear Mommy,

I know you’ll read this. You said the other day that you’ve been following my page for some time now. You read my poems and my journal entries and stuff. Weird how much I’ve changed, huh? I’m not a little kid anymore. Your little baby angel has actually grown up now. He’s a fighter. He doesn’t take shit anymore. Different then how I used to be, right? That little kid that would just lay there or sit there and take all the abuse and never fight back? Yeah, guess what? He’s gone. And in his place is a pretty messed up guy. You even said that yourself.

You said that my poems and journal entries hurt you, that you hurt with me because you know a lot of my pain was caused by you. And what did I tell you? I said that I hope it hurts bad because the pain you feel while reading my poetry and journal entries is nothing compared to the hell and misery I went through because of you.

I love you, you know that right? But I hate who you are. And as much as I hate to admit it, I can relate to you. I know how it felt when Daddy would beat the shit out of you and your other boyfriends would abuse you, to have them tell you that you weren’t good enough, to have them insult you and belittle you. I know how it feels and it’s a horrible feeling. But Mommy, why would you wish all that pain on your own son? Every hit, every insult, made me feel absolutely worthless. And then your boyfriends would start on me and all you did was watch and if you were drunk enough or high enough, you’d actually encourage it. Then Danna and Josh would want to be just like you and started in on me. Insulting me, abusing me. And me being between the age of 5 and 8, what could I do? I loved my siblings so I couldn’t fight back. And they were older and bigger than me at the time anyway.

I know you gave all of us up for a reason. I know you knew that you basically weren’t fit to raise us. And I also knew that your drug addictions were more important than your own kids. I don’t know how Danna or Josh were raised in their foster homes but, from what you said, they turned out to be completely perfect adults. Hopefully they found a family or families to raise them and love them. But me? I was way too fucked up to be loved by my families. I don’t know, maybe by the way I was raised by you and all the insults, I felt like I had to prove myself to be tougher and stronger. And by having that bad rep, I knew people wouldn’t want to mess me. I wouldn’t have to worry about being abused. And after beating the shit out of people for insulting me, people would be too scared to insult me. But even through all that anger and the need to prove myself, that wasn’t enough for me. So I started to turn out just like you. Next thing you know, your baby angel turned to drugs and alcohol to try and drown his pain. I became the very thing I despised. The very thing I said I never wanted to be. I became just like you.

I went through a lot while being raised by my foster families. You have no idea the hell I went through. I have scars all over to remind me everyday of the pain I went through while trying to live and survive. Rope burn scars on my wrists, scars on my back from belt buckles and many more. My favorite is probably the chemical scar on my side. Tell me, Mommy, do you know what bleach tastes like? What about gasoline? I do. To have that smell and taste plug up all your senses and have it burn through your body. And this is just a little bit of what I went through. The pain, the agony, the torture that I went through because you didn’t stand up and be an actual parent. It’s no wonders, really, why I turned to other things to try and drown out my pain.

But I eventually got out of it. I had friends who stood by my side and helped me along my way to being who I am today. My friends have been more of a family to me than you or anyone else has. Damn, even my friends on here have been more of a family to me. Who was there to support me when I was trying to stay clean? Who was there for me when I needed someone to hold my hand? Who held me late in the night when I was crying and couldn’t sleep? Who was there for me in the night when the nightmares wouldn’t go away? Who was there to hold my hand in the hospital and tell me everything would be okay? Who was there to protect me from harm, whether from myself or others? Who was there to whisper in my ear every night that they loved me and always would…? Who was there to wrap me in their arms and hold me while I cried and tell me everything will be all right…? You don’t know how often I wished it was you… But it wasn’t. It was my real family. My friends. They were always there for me.

And now you think that you can just walk back into my life. But it doesn’t work that way. You’ve broken my trust and I don’t believe you. After our phone conversation, you expect me to trust you? You and Danna and Josh have been a perfect little family for a couple years now. But what about your baby angel? Why did you never really try to get a hold of me? The only thing I had gotten from you in the last couple of years was a letter from you because your drug rehabilitation counselor told you that you should. That’s all. Not that I wanted anything else, but the idea of you trying would’ve been nice. I know I was the youngest in the family but did that really make me the least important? Why was it that Danna and Josh were absolutely doted on and given everything they wanted and I was just tossed aside? I’ll never be able to understand that.

I know what you want from me, Mommy. You want forgiveness. And that is something that I refuse to give you. I cant forgive you for the things that you have done to me and for the things you caused. I often wonder how things would’ve been different if you were actually a caring parent. How different would I have turned out to be. Maybe I never would’ve gotten involved with alcohol or drugs. Maybe I wouldn’t have this bad boy rep that I have now. Maybe I would’ve never started poetry… Maybe I would be weak… So I guess it hasn’t all turned out bad, huh? Thanks to you and because of you, I am who I am right now. Even though there’s a lot of stuff wrong with me, there’s a lot of good stuff too. Because of you, I’m this messed up guy that I am. And because of you, I’m this caring guy that always watches out for his friends and is always there for them. You know why? Because I want to be the person you weren’t. I want to be there for people in their time of need. As weird as it may seem, I want to thank you for that. For showing me the person I don’t want to be and for making me into a stronger person.

I’m not blaming you for everything that has gone wrong. Daddy had a good part in it, my messed up foster families had a good part in it and I had a huge part in it too. I could’ve handled myself better than I did but I didn’t. Even though all the bad experiences in my life pushed me onto the path I was walking, I was the one actually walking it. But all of those experiences made me into the strong person I am right now. Everyone has their weak moments. You had yours when you turned to alcohol and drugs too. I had mine when I turned to them too and turned to self-harm and suicide. But we can all pick ourselves up and keep going. You said you are clean and sober and I congratulate you on that. I know how hard it is. Hopefully you will remain that way for a long time. I wish you good luck with Danna and Josh and your new husband and your new life. But me? I have my own life to live and I cannot bring myself to live it with you or the rest of the family.

Always,

Michael Dumeir