Sunday, June 8, 2008

First Post - About Me

I was raised by a narcissistic woman that insisted I call her "mom." I'm not entirely sure what a mom is, since I didn't really have one, but I know that she wasn't one. She always seemed to find ways to be busy, giving her duties as mother and housekeeper to me. I took care of her children and the children "she babysat." I cleaned her house. I cooked her dinner. She also decided that we should be homeschooled, so I had to teach the youngest ones preschool and make sure the older ones did their workbooks. Oh, and I should mention that this all fell to me at age 12.

I was only allowed to go to two places: church and the library. I ended up spending any time she was home at the library or in my room with my nose stuck in a book. I loved to read. The books were an escape from her, from my life. One of my favorites was that one about the girl that found her own picture on a milk carton. Then her real parents came to take her away. She didn't want to go with them, but I would have given anything to be taken away from the house that was my prison.

I didn't have many friends. How could I? I was isolated from the world. My role in life was to be at my mother's beck and call. She ensured that I believed that by single handedly destroying my self esteem. I was never good enough for her and I never will be.

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