Let’s set the scene a little bit with a quick backstory.
I’m 15 years old and my mom is 29 years old. She had me at an obviously young age and my dad fled the scene, from what I know. There are so many stories about my mom that I’ve heard over the years and I don’t know what is the truth at this point but I do remember growing up with a mom who worked at a tattoo shop and pierced people and did body modifications for a living. I grew up with the buzzing sound of tattoo needles and the sight of blood on a daily basis. But I also grew up in dozens of homes because every new boyfriend she had, she would move in and take me with her.
Now let’s fast forward to present day.
Today is July 26th and for the past 6 months, I have been living with my grandparents because my mom kicked me out. This wasn’t the first time I have ever lived at my grandparents house because between living at my mom’s past boyfriend’s houses I would always spend time with my grandparents and I would always love it so much. Living with them has always been stable and if I had lived with them all my life maybe I would be more stable too. Anyway, she kicked me out this time because things just ended between her and her other boyfriend we were living with at the time. Of course, he was paying the rent so when they broke up she found a place and kicked me to the curb to live with my grandparents while she figured things out. Within 2 weeks of kicking me out, she found a place and started living there and she didn’t have the decency to call me until 4 months later. She told me she would get me after 2 weeks and although I prefer living with my grandparents, it still stung to have your mom ignore you like that. I should have expected it though because one time she dropped me off at my grandparents house for 3 months during Christmas time and stopped paying her phone bills. I thought she was dead back then. Back to the story! When the two weeks came up, I tried calling her number but just like last time, I found out her phone was no longer in service and I didn’t know what was happening but I was so scared that she would swoop in and take me from the only safe place I know.
This story is a bit all over the place but let’s get to why I’m so scared.
I’m scared that my mom is going to take me away and beat me up like last time. I’m scared that she is going to treat me so badly that I will get back into my state of depression, the one I just got out of. I was depressed for 2 years and after 6 months of being with my loving grandparents I remembered what it felt like to be happy, to be loved. I’m scared that my mom will continue using me as a slave. I’m scared that her new boyfriend will abuse me like the others. I’m scared that she is going to run down the stairs with scissors and try to cut off my hair like last time. I’m scared that she will throw all my clothes on the street. I’m scared that I will resort to trying to kill myself. I’m scared that my collection of scars will continue to grow. I’m scared to say the wrong thing. I’m scared to trigger her bipolar disorder or her anger issues. I’m scared of talking to her. I’m just scared she won’t let me be me.
But most of all, I’m scared that I’m going to turn out like her.