Thanks everyone for the comments on my first blog entry.

I wanted to share with you the letter I wrote to my mother. I wrote this and was adding on a daily basis. It ended up being five pages long. I wasn't thinking about sending it to her but I did. If I never did, she would always treat me like she always has. She has always made me feel so small and always stood me on a pedestal, like I am never good enough. She always put in my face what my brothers were doing. When she found out about my mental illness, she was pretending I was fine and shoved how I was feeling under a rug and she continues to do that. She missed all my soccer games when she promised she'd be there, and missed all my shows (I sang in front of audiences in high school and adult ed). Hugging me never came naturally. She'd stand there and stare at me, and whenever I'd call my parents to say hello she never seemed excited. I sent her this letter on New Years Day of this year, after she replied saying she is backing off and wants nothing to do with me. It was a cry for help, and also a cry for a better relationship with her. I had the biggest breakdown of my life that night when she wrote me back. My heart shattered in a million pieces. I cried myself to sleep 89% of the time because knowing my mum doesn't want a relationship with me kills. The reason it took me nearly 22 years to find the courage to say any of this was because I had to live with her until after I turned 2O. I was terrified of her. I had to stand up for myself.

This letter is about my mental illness, my past with alcohol abuse, and the years I have struggled to have a relationship with my mother.

Dear Mom,

I am writing you a letter because I never had the courage to ever say this to you face to face. Only because I hate it when you see me at my weakest point. I hate how you have tried to maintain a relationship with me that was never even there to begin with. I have always fought to get your attention. Since I was fourteen I felt like I couldn't talk to you about anything. I'd still manage to try though. I had only a select few friends in school and everyone else either bullied me verbally or threatened to beat me up. Only because I was different. I was a leader in so many ways you said. I was my own person, but everyday it just got me in trouble in more ways than one. Going to school wasn't the only nightmare for me, waking up was too. When I was sexually assaulted by a classmate and you and dad were called, and you came I was scared to tell you. But I did. That was courage and took so much out of me. So much strength. I remember you held me and told me it's not my fault. I believed it was. The only ones behind me was the school counselor and my family. No one else believed me mom. I walked the halls after that with no one to talk to. Three months later a monster raped me. I was fourteen, scared. I was taken to an abandoned apartment and was trapped. I cried through the whole ordeal. I laid there, lifeless, as he told me what to do. I felt so sick after. I ran home and locked myself in the bathroom. I tried to kill myself that night. For months I tried to take my own life because a monster took away my dignity. I felt like I had no purpose. I was alive, but I wasn't living. That's the main reason why I was depressed, but I felt like everything else was slipping out of my grip. I was failing classes and lost all passion towards life and everything I once had a love for. It was killing my friends so much. I know if I committed suicide then I wouldn't have had a huge funeral, considering I wasn't very liked and had very few friends. But the ones I had are the ones that kept me alive. I was feeling sick emotionally. I hurt on the inside so much I wanted to feel it on the outside. I wanted to feel that pain everyday. Who I was before became a ghost compared to the person I was slowly becoming. All I really wanted was for someone to come to me and ask me what's really wrong, why I was really hurting and what was killing me on the inside. Instead you forced me to sit at the dinner table, not only was I not hungry but I wasn't really feeling like communicating with anyone around that time. You acted like I was fine. You shoved it under a rug, hoping my mental illness would just go away. All I wanted was an army behind me to believe me for once, no one really did the first time, so who would the second time around? I got help. I picked up the phone and called the CLSC. I knew I needed help mom, I needed to get the courage to ask for it. The therapist was help for a little while, but she wasn't helping me much at getting better. The last time I saw her you know what she told me? After all the time I spent going there once a week, she decided to tell me I am too young to feel this empty. I am too young to have this feeling of nothingness around my heart. So, in the span of three months I get sexually assaulted and raped and I am just supposed to be okay with it? That's what I was basically told. The doctor told me I had every symptom possible for major depression. I had nightmares a lot too I told him. I was scared to sleep because I'd just wake up in tears. It was always the same thing too. It was always dark, and a man was always attacking me. He said it sounds like I been through a traumatic event. Yeah, I did. I was trying to battle overcoming it alone. After being on the pills I was slowly becoming the old Kelly I used to be. Free-spirited, sees the glass half-full. Until I stopped taking them. When I turned seventeen and started abusing alcohol there was only one reason. I wanted to go, but I didn't want to feel the pain this time. I was still trying to process what happened to me years before. I was the girl drinking whiskey straight out of Jack Daniel bottles at parties, and double fisting beer at bars. November 2009 when I went out, I had half a bottle of Jack Daniels, pitchers of Rum & coke (which makes me really sick) and tons of shots and beer. I almost killed myself that night. But a man called 911 and saved my life when I was face down on the sidewalk and my body just could not move. I wanted to but I couldn't do it. All I could say was, "call 911, cause I am going to die." I drank more than my tiny body frame was able to handle. The nurses don't believe I should be alive right now. In a span of two years I been in the hospital twice for alcohol poisoning and there were two times I should have gone but didn't. I have battle scars. I am stuck with them and they will always remind me of my past. The reason I was writing you this letter is to tell you what needs to get off my chest. It hurts I cannot talk to you sometimes, I wish I could. When I spent the summer in Ottawa two years, and met Shane and started to date him, things were fine at the start. He then put his hands around my throat and pushed me against a wall. He bruised up my left arm too. It was a fight to get a hug or kiss our of him. He didn't want me hanging out with my guy friends alone, the problem was Holly was my only best friend and guys were all I had apart from her. I never got affection in a relationship. I am always fighting for it. I always felt like I was being wanted around, but for what I always wondered. I told him I'd appreciate it if he wouldn't put his hands on me. The guy who raped me did that to me. He still continued. I know why he did it, he liked being in control. He intimidated me like no one else has. One move and i'd jump. Even though I was terrified I still stayed. I tried to see the best in him. There was none of that. After I ended things, Holly was the first person I told. She said things can get worse and very ugly. When daddy and Daryl came to get me I told Daryl, and told him to promise me he would not tell dad. Dad worries about me enough that I didn`t need more for him to worry about. I still get intimidated by guys still and he`s scarred me good. I get scared when people get to close to me. In the past year I have lived back in Ottawa I have pushed so many people away. I compared them to all the rest. I know that was wrong of me. I didn`t want to feel feelings. I didn`t want to feel anything at all. Every other time I felt something, that feeling was ripped away from me. It was like each time, the guy stood me on the highest mountain, showed me the world and pretty much told me, "this is everything you cannot have." It hurts. But you know, I am getting kind of used to it. I was always told that when you get the bad things, it makes you appreciate the good. I am ready for good things to happen now. Remember when I was in high school and was so proud of myself I was on the soccer team. I wanted you to be just as proud. You promised me that you would be at every home game. You were never there. I'd look to the bleacher with a smiling face when I made a goal cause I wanted you to witness it as well. But you weren't there. When I got a spot on the play and sang in front of so many people, you said you'd be there. Isobel's mic broke that night when we put the show on for the teachers and parents. My gym teacher told me to try out for canadian idol. I laughed at the remark. Grandma was there, you weren't though. I remember being so upset. It was like, I always held your word. I always believed you would always come through. I was always dissappointed and it always hurt the same. You still continue to do that to me. It hurts just the same as it did when I was fourteen. I always hold my breath, always being dissappointed in the end.

I do not know if we don't get along as much because of the kind of person I am. The fact I am too much like my father. Does it bother you? I am sorry for being opinionated. I am sorry for always sticking up to my gut feelings. All those times I defended dad, because he couldn't do it for himself and vice versa. We always had each other's backs. I wish you had mine. All those times when I was younger I let you yell at me. I didn't have a backbone. I took all the crap for Daryl & Alex. I was the pillar for the family, I always believed without me it would fall apart in a sense. If the dishes weren't done, Kelly got in trouble. If the laundry wasn't finished or there was too much, Kelly got in trouble. I didn't know why that was. Daryl and Alex never got in trouble, not as much as me. I thought that was unfair. You can argue that point, but I know who would side with me. There were so many nights where I would break down because I was so worn out. I remember the times dad would kick me out of the kitchen and argue that I do enough. I wish you seen that when I was there. I wish you appreciated the things I did. Though you didn't till I decided to leave. I bet you wished you were more harder on the boys then. You didn't have the help you got from me. To be honest I don't feel sorry for that one bit. The first three months was rough. I lived on my friend's couch and was barely getting by. I struggled a lot and even then you couldn't help me. The money you sent me got me enough bus tickets for a day or a couple. None of the money you sent me went towards food, and if it did I couldn't survive with just that. I remember walking to job hunt in a blizzard and walking down merivale. I was so desperate for money I worked for my friend Konrad, he owns his own landscaping company. I was frustrated, of possibly screwing things up. He told me if I spent the day with him he would pay me 100$. I did it because I needed to eat. I then sold my guitar amp days later for 80$, I had no choice. You knew how much music meant to me and it broke my heart. What mended it back together was that a mother bought it, she said she was buying it for her son for Christmas. I spent 18O$ on food for myself the next day. You know what? I shared my food with Kathy and her family, because that's the kind of person I was. They were getting their food from the food bank and depending on welfare checks. I was just the girl living on their love seat, barely getting by. I remember when you couldn't send me money, a few times, I had to go do my laundry at friends' houses. Going around the city with this bag of laundry. I was just a girl trying to get by. I didn't tell you or dad how bad I had it. I put myself in that spot so I figured it was me that had to get myself out. Though there were nights where I would go to sleep, not sure if I had a place to stay the next night, and that scared me. I was pretty much starving myself, was jobless and living on a friend's couch for free. My life was worse than it was when I lived at home. Yet I had hope. I told dad when he picked me up for my birthday. I asked if we can eat, then told him my life story of the past 3 months. He was shocked. I told him I was out to the city, going to chase my dreams and be somebody. That's not what he expected the outcome to be.

When aunt LeeAnn & uncle Fred took me in I was thankful. Grateful. I didn't want to be a bother to them but they offered to help me. I got my life back on track. Applied to college and even got a job. Some days I really hate my job, but I keep reminding myself that it pays my stuff and gets me by. I come home to family who like to hear how my day went, how work was. They listen to me. I feel important. I hate the way you talk to Grandma. The things she has done for all of us. That woman is admireable, and I want you to let her know how much you appreciate the stuff she has done for you. If you never do, you'll regret it. You hold so much anger towards her, I never understood why. She's a good person, I wish you could see it. I remember having so much dislike towards Alex growing up, he got away with so much. I'd always yell at him to help me out. You just watched or yelled at me to stop yelling at him. You told me you didn't want him doing something horrible, like running away. I couldn't believe you could say that, after all the crap you put me through. I was giving him tough love, that you refused to give him. I admire the kid now. But I disliked how you compared me to him when he was 16. I lied to you and dad once, that was when I egged Jessica's apartment out of anger. I took the blame for Alex too. I stood up for him. But you always knew where I was. You said I was always roaming the streets. I was never that teenager. I was a good kid, I had to be. I still am. I always tell Aunt LeeAnn & Uncle Fred where I am going and who I am going to be hanging out with. I even ask them if it's ok. Alex getting suspended for smoking on school grounds and nothing happening and Daryl getting grounded for skipping one class. Tell me where the logic is in that? You picked favorites mom, you always have. I always say I now know what it feels like to be someone's favorite, second best and just not good enough. I was always just not good enough for you. Have you ever gone to bed at night and just laid there, and it's quiet and you can actually hear your heart break? That's how it feels. And some days I feel like the traumatic events from the past, you simply not caring are just too much for me, that I think that me jumping in the Ottawa River seems more appealing than breathing. I remember you taking me for a walk when you found out I was cutting myself. My wrists were exposed to you with scars and fresh cuts. You asked me what was wrong, I just told you, "I want to die mom." I was fourteen years old and witnessed your heart break in a million pieces for the first time. All you could tell me was that I have a great family and I obviously have friends that care. You quickly walk around that subject all the time. I was diagnosed with major depression at fourteen mom. I tried taking my own life several times. I just hate how I can't tell you how I have felt, well this is it. I exist but I do not live. I am just hopeful for a better tomorrow.

All in all mom, I wish you would want to at least have a better relationship with me. Everyone I know talks about how close they are with their moms, and you know what? I seem like the only person that doesn't have that. I either tell them how close I am with my father or quickly change the subject or not say anything at all. Because you know what? We don't have that. I wish we did.


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