" this is your mother. not that you care." hangs up.
this is the same woman who tells me really important things that i need ,and often have , to know many years after they happen or are relevant because( i'm sure she tells herself) she doesn't think i can deal . witch-i'm the one who lives on my own, away from my ,YOUR disturbed family and out of harm's reach. i'm about the only one of the lot of you that can deal with fucking anything. he's someone you hate, who screwed you and hurt you deeply. he's my fucking father, whatever he has or hasn't done. when you knew where he was, in the late 80s, you refused to tell me even though i desperately needed to see him just to hear that he hadn't forgot about me . you wouldn't even give me that pathetic tidbit. you were being amazingly cruel to me, not him, even though i know it was despite him.
it's not that i don't care. i have put myself beyond your abuse and complete lack of consideration for my feelings and well being.
feeling unloved, unwanted, unprotected in your time of dire need? welcome to my world. i'm sure you consider yourself the one who didn't abandon their only child, unlike that bastard i look so much like. the truth is, the day he walked out, i was effectively orphaned . you emotionally severed yourself from me - a 9 year old who's father had disappeared back to europe to avoid paying a paltry $15 a week in child support. while you licked your wounds, i was left at the mercy of your outrageously abusive and psychologically deranged family. perhaps i exaggerate a tad- you did notice me enough to beat the shit out of me when i was being ' difficult' i.e. crying , hysterical ,emotionally devistated by the loss of the parent i was closest to, physically tormented by your siblings, who were still in your parent's home. in fact ,they're still fucking there . ok, this is so wrong. do you understand? none of your 4 brothers and sisters left home. have we noticed this is fucked up? it was weird and dysfunctional 30 years ago. now it's insane and now you get to be their mommy. might as well be someone's mom- you weren't mine.
i'm being as nice as i can. as i realize my difficulties with relationships of any sort stems from the wreckage of my fairly traumatic childhood, so i also see that your reaction to my father leaving and your inability to be there for me was the fault of your own upbringing. it has taken me years to understand the effect of your neglect and your inability to protect me from the physical and psychological depredations of your parasitic, angry and abusive family. shouldn't it be obvious? in retrospect ,i suppose it is , however when you grow up in a certain environment , fraught with physical abuse and severe untreated mental illness that was, in fact, producing criminal behaviour, and it's the norm ,it can take a lifetime to garner the sense of selfworth necessary to see what was wrong, so very wrong- what never should have been allowed to happen to a child . or to anyone.your family is fucking insane-most people don't smash every article of furniture in the house on a weekly basis while screaming and throwing knives at each other. really. some people do not do this.
one of your brothers is still beating up random members of the family who are stupid enough to go near him. when is enough , enough ? when your only child refuses to go near you to keep from being the victim of an assault? that wasn't even enough. you wouldn't/couldn't protect me ( or yourself ,for that matter),all the while trying to heap guilt on me for refusing to be victimized. now i protect myself. and i don't give a fuck who is hurt by my decision to stay safe from harm.
how much better i would have felt about myself, instead of being suffused with self -loathing, if once someone, some adult had even voiced the opinion that i was being abused, and didn't deserve it - and that it was WRONG.
so i stay away. which is what you should have done. we would have been better on the goddamn street than in your parents' home. i don't know half of what happened in that family- not that you'll tell me anything. not that it fucking matters- the offending parties are dead and those of you left are stuck with each other through, not loving, familial ties , but inertia and depression. pardon me for not joining in, but i prefer a life wherein i am not treated like shit by those who are suppose to love me. oh, the audacity of it.
my apartment in allston was auctioned off one summer day from the front stoop. overnight i suddenly had a new, obnoxious landlord from another country where property rights are, er, a little different. he seemed to be of the opinion that i had to pay him an outrageous amount of rent instantly or the cops would throw me out. in reality, the auction was illegal- as a tenant of a converted condo i was suppose to be offered the unit first. it was off to the thrills of housing court but not before nouveau slumlord billy lee plopped his ass on my couch and stated he wasn't leaving until i signed a lease with him. i told him to get out or i'd call the police . no- HE was going to call the police and they'd throw me out. so i picked up the phone, and called the police while he fumbled with his cell phone. meanwhile, persia mohammad persia had appeared and was watching this not very heated exchange- i hadn't raised my voice and he was sort of babbling excitedly. she positioned herself in front of billy lee and started growling. persia never growls. billy started to freak-" what does she want? what does she want?" .he tried to get up and away from her- she started hissing and wouldn't budge from in front of him.
one of her cubs was being threatened. persia was protecting me. a little cat was willing to stand between me and perceived harm. that's a lot to ask from a small animal. i thought it was what human parents were suppose to do for their own children when they are very young and particularly vulnerable.
so it's through a cat, a pet, an animal that i have learned that i have worth- that something loves me enough to risk harm in trying to protect me. that something loves me enough to even notice when i am being mistreated. it is said the human contact a cat receives during the first weeks of its life determine whether it will be friendly to people or feral.
if it wasn't for persia mohammad persia, i'd be feral.