Hannah's Blog

Anger, longing, sadness. That’s how I feel when I remember that my life is not normal or typical or similar to everyone else. When I remember that my childhood was strange and sad and lonely it makes me angry, angry because all I have ever wanted is to be normal, to be happy, to be like everyone else. My mom says she tried her best, I’m sure she did, but my childhood was full of never having enough money and never being loved in the way I wished so badly to be. My mother never hugged me, cuddled me, held me. I always asked to cuddle and she said no, that she didn’t like it, even if I begged and cried. I cried a lot as a kid. I used to cry until I threw up, just hoping someone would come and check on me and hold me and tell me it would be okay. I wanted those things so badly. My grandparents would hold me and love me so hard I could feel it, but at the end of the day, a girl just wants her mom.

My mother was also sort of apathetic to my pain. I was never cared for when I was sick, maybe when I was incapable of getting the medicine and food myself as a young child, but I can’t remember her ever tending to me when I was a child. I took care of myself for the most part, she was always working or too tired to help me so I just adjusted to being independent. Independence is great when you’re alone, but it made me incapable of asking for help as I got older. I never had a father, just my grandfather who took on the role when he could.

When I was sick this year and needed surgery I cried and cried for my mom, who tried to make every excuse not to come. She came, and I was so happy she was there to care for me. This one time, my mother cared for me. I hold on to those memories so dearly, partly because I dont know if it will ever happen again, and partly because In those moments I had the mom I always wanted, the mom who would look after me, the happy mom, my mom.

I think about how my childhood affected me a lot now, and wonder how different I would be if I grew up with normal, loving parents, parents who wanted a child and could afford one. I will admit I get a bit jealous when I see my friend’s parents wedding pictures or see them being so loving and kind to their children. I am jealous, I am jealous that I won’t ever experience that. Sometimes I think that the damage is irreversible and I will always feel disconnected to my family, sometimes I pray that this isn’t true.

In my teenage years I tried so hard to be what everyone wanted me to be, especially my mother. No matter what I did it always felt like she was disappointed in me. I tried to talk to her about our relationship but it never worked out, she would just get angrier and more avoidant and blame me, then we would fight and I would cry and she wouldn’t speak to me for a few days. I think maybe we’re supposed to be distant to each other, I think it’s the only way we can live without killing each other. But I still long for a relationship with her that doesn’t feel like a struggle. It’s a feeling that eats at me every day, the pain rests in my chest and feels like something too dark and deep and painful for me to heal, no matter how hard i try.

My problem with all of this is that I will search for a way to feel normal no matter what. I overcompensate with the pain I feel by spending money, eating, smoking weed, anything that makes me feel what I think is happiness, but really I’m just trying to fill a void I never will. I hope I dont feel this way forever, I hope I can heal.