My mom was in and out of my life when I was a child. I was raised by my father and his guy roomates. Whenever I saw my mom I thought she was the fun parent cause she took me places, and my father was the hard worker. Later I found out my dad paid my mom to take me out. It made me think she was paid to be a parent. At the time my mom was also a bad achololic. But the reason my mom was in and out of my life was because she stayed with boyfriends and when she broke up with them she would stay at our place until she got a new bf. As a side note my parents were divorced but I dad had hoped to be with my mom again.

Years later when my mom was sober and I was going in highschool when I moved in with my mom at her place. My mom and I were strangers to each other. We never had a proper conversation together, ever. It felt awkward being alone with her. Over time we began to feel comfortable with each other and not be so awkward. But when things started to feel okay, my mom began to drink again.

I hated holidays, new years, mother's day, july 4th, memorial day, thanksgiving, christmas; any holiday would be the worst days of my mom's drinking. I hated her stupid drunk smile. I feared her anger. My mom would get violent with me or my step dad. Whenever me and my step dad tried to calm her down she would supect we were screwing each other. One thing I hated most of all was that we would carry the memories of her violence or stupidity but the next day she would forget. Carrying those horrific memories while she didn't, felt so.. unjust.

I remember one night after my mom was pounding on my chest, she looked straight at me and started to cry and said,

"why don't you hit back?"

I told her I won't hit my mom. Her tears flooded and she sobbed,

"Hit me! I'm a b*tch. Hit me!"

She broke down crying.

Crazily enough, I love my mom, no matter how much she hit me with her fists or called me every name in the book. She was sick. It was the alcohol that posioned her mind.

Last year on New Years was the major bad day. That night, was the night she went too far in hurting me. I remember my mom's friend screaming at my mom to stop hurting me. My mom was far from reality and didn't stop. After that event I was fearful for my life, so I stay at friend's houses for abit. I never told my friends what happened that night. Whenever I thought of it I would shake and cry. My mom left messages on my phone saying she was sorry. In one particular voice message she said she was done with drinking and that I was more important. So, I took a chance and went back home.

My mom didn't drink, for abit. Few months later around my birthday, something was off. My mom was closing her bedroom door like she was hiding something. She would get pissed off if I went into her room. On my birthday that's when I smelled the alcohol on her breath. Soon it was no secret anymore and she was drinking openly.

I felt betrayed. My mom didn't keep her word. I guess I really wasn't more important than alcohol.

There was a little change when she drank, like she didn't hurt me or my step dad physically like she use to. She told me she would never hit me again. I guess that was an improvement, though she still got pissed off or acted foolish when she drank.

Months later my mom and step dad got a house up north through an inheitance and moved up there. I stayed with my dad and his wife.

When I first moved with my dad and step mom I acted unusual. Whenever my step mom raised her voice and got close to me I would flinch, like I was waiting to get hit. For a while I cried at night, remembering all the memories from living with my mom.

I visited my mom last year for Christmas and New Years. Her drinking became worst. She didn't become more violent, it was that she barely ate. She was obsessed with loosing weight and was eating like a bird, however drank more alcohol. She  drank in the morning, which she never did when I lived with her. She lost a lot of weight. All day and everyday she drank, ate little, skipped meals, and even not come home for a few days every so often. My step dad gave up on my mom.

If my mom didn't change, she was going to die soon enough (side note, she's diabetic). I tried so many times trying to convice her drinking was not good for her and she was going to die. She would just make up an excuse for her drinking. I gave up on her, too.

Now my mom is living down south with family getting a divorce with my step dad. For a couple months my mom been texting and calling me, talking about her problems. I'm sick of hearing her problems so I stopped responding to her. It's her fault, her bad descions, leading her into her problems. I hate when she asks me what should she do. I thought to myself shouldn't I be asking for advice from my parent for my stupidity not the other way around?

I still have hard feelings for my mom, but the long run I do still love her, it's just hard.

My mom was in and out of my life when I was a child. I was raised by my father and his guy roomates. Whenever I saw my mom I thought she was the fun parent cause she took me places, and my father was the hard worker. Later I found out my dad paid my mom to take me out. It made me think she was paid to be a parent. At the time my mom was also a bad achololic. But the reason my mom was in and out of my life was because she stayed with boyfriends and when she broke up with them she would stay at our place until she got a new bf. As a side note my parents were divorced but I dad had hoped to be with my mom again.

Years later when my mom was sober and I was going in highschool when I moved in with my mom at her place. My mom and I were strangers to each other. We never had a proper conversation together, ever. It felt awkward being alone with her. Over time we began to feel comfortable with each other and not be so awkward. But when things started to feel okay, my mom began to drink again.

I hated holidays, new years, mother's day, july 4th, memorial day, thanksgiving, christmas; any holiday would be the worst days of my mom's drinking. I hated her stupid drunk smile. I feared her anger. My mom would get violent with me or my step dad. Whenever me and my step dad tried to calm her down she would supect we were screwing each other. One thing I hated most of all was that we would carry the memories of her violence or stupidity but the next day she would forget. Carrying those horrific memories while she didn't, felt so.. unjust.

I remember one night after my mom was pounding on my chest, she looked straight at me and started to cry and said,

"why don't you hit back?"

I told her I won't hit my mom. Her tears flooded and she sobbed,

"Hit me! I'm a b*tch. Hit me!"

She broke down crying.

Crazily enough, I love my mom, no matter how much she hit me with her fists or called me every name in the book. She was sick. It was the alcohol that posioned her mind.

Last year on New Years was the major bad day. That night, was the night she went too far in hurting me. I remember my mom's friend screaming at my mom to stop hurting me. My mom was far from reality and didn't stop. After that event I was fearful for my life, so I stay at friend's houses for abit. I never told my friends what happened that night. Whenever I thought of it I would shake and cry. My mom left messages on my phone saying she was sorry. In one particular voice message she said she was done with drinking and that I was more important. So, I took a chance and went back home.

My mom didn't drink, for abit. Few months later around my birthday, something was off. My mom was closing her bedroom door like she was hiding something. She would get pissed off if I went into her room. On my birthday that's when I smelled the alcohol on her breath. Soon it was no secret anymore and she was drinking openly.

I felt betrayed. My mom didn't keep her word. I guess I really wasn't more important than alcohol.

There was a little change when she drank, like she didn't hurt me or my step dad physically like she use to. She told me she would never hit me again. I guess that was an improvement, though she still got pissed off or acted foolish when she drank.

Months later my mom and step dad got a house up north through an inheitance and moved up there. I stayed with my dad and his wife.

When I first moved with my dad and step mom I acted unusual. Whenever my step mom raised her voice and got close to me I would flinch, like I was waiting to get hit. For a while I cried at night, remembering all the memories from living with my mom.

I visited my mom last year for Christmas and New Years. Her drinking became worst. She didn't become more violent, it was that she barely ate. She was obsessed with loosing weight and was eating like a bird, however drank more alcohol. She  drank in the morning, which she never did when I lived with her. She lost a lot of weight. All day and everyday she drank, ate little, skipped meals, and even not come home for a few days every so often. My step dad gave up on my mom.

If my mom didn't change, she was going to die soon enough (side note, she's diabetic). I tried so many times trying to convice her drinking was not good for her and she was going to die. She would just make up an excuse for her drinking. I gave up on her, too.

Now my mom is living down south with family getting a divorce with my step dad. For a couple months my mom been texting and calling me, talking about her problems. I'm sick of hearing her problems so I stopped responding to her. It's her fault, her bad descions, leading her into her problems. I hate when she asks me what should she do. I thought to myself shouldn't I be asking for advice from my parent for my stupidity not the other way around?

I still have hard feelings for my mom, but the long run I do still love her, it's just hard.

*Father and daughter sat in silence*

After a long pause and anicipation from her father, the girl finally spoke,

"I feel.. s-sad everyday", looked down in embarrassment of admitting it.

A moment later the father responded,

"That sucks".

-----

I'm that girl, and that moment in time happened a few years ago. I don't know what I was expecting from my father at the time. I never open up with anyone so sharing that with my father at the time was important yet, he didn't really respond at all. That point in time was in my senior year of high school. Graduation was coming close and I feared the future. My senior year was the first year I made actual friends. In my previous years I was a loner wandering in the halls. In my last year of highschool I wasn't shy or quiet like I was most my life; I was a new person. I guess seeing that end brought me down. And also thinking of going to college and trying to find a job, felt overwhelming. But there's something else about the future I don't want to face; facing regret. All these choice I make now, I wonder if later I'll regret them? I don't want to be bitter when I'm older about the choices I've made.