Angry?

[Mary Ann]

On Wednesday I hit a wall of anger, and I didn't see it coming
I had broken my heart trying to please everyone, I'd had no choice
I'd given Mum my time and effort, imperiously she'd demanded it
Obedience, attention, love and silence
She devoured it all, insatiably like it was hers by right
And left me drained and lacking, a lesser person
Like some twisted sort of parasite or vampire.
But it was never enough, no matter what I did
I was still 'as bad as your sister'..that was her insult of choice
Or a B———-, pathetic, painful or shy
All said in tones that ranged from sweet to bitter
More dependant on her mood than any crime I'd committed

I wasn't allowed to be sad or angry,
Or even happy if she wasn't
Feelings were not mine to have, that was her privilege
And she could behave as badly as she liked...with confidence.
I wasn't permitted to think badly of her though,
She could almost tell if I did...and that meant trouble!
When I quietly risked a complaint to Dad, he'd sigh heavily
Shake his head wearily, eyes half closed....
'Take no notice..you know what she's like'
'She gets like this when she's been eating chocolate'
Like some raging colicky infant, that had to be indulged,
And I should be tolerant, in silence, and know better
Even the thought of me making him trouble
Made his face sad, and hurt, disappointed with me,
And I was sorry I'd grumbled...sorry for him,
He should be disappointed with her really, or himself,
Because it's hard to take no notice, when all I had was fear.

My friend told me her Mum made dreadful stew!
She laid out her clothes though she was old enough to choose.
Warmed their slippers at bath time, putting talc in each pair
Small, motherly acts of comfort,,,but done with such love
My Mum burned with resentment even as I slept,
Pulled me out of sleep at night,
To be hissed at, slapped and cried over.
I didn't have to do anything wrong, not really,
Her anger was already there, primed and ready to go
I just got in it's way, wasn't useful enough,
No longer cute enough, not rewarding enough I suppose.
I should have sad sweet, talc scented memories
Or times to roll my eyes at, laugh at wryly
But my Mums not just mad, she's mean...and selfish
There's no comfort in nostalgia, just ugliness and shame.

On Wednesday I hit a wall of anger, I think that's what it was?
And I don't know how to explain,
How it's hard to know a feeling you were not allowed to have.
Like describing a colour to a person born blind, but
I want to blab to strangers...invent a whole new swear!
Cos there's no words big enough, hard enough, strong enough
I want to burn the whole world down!
It's either them or me! Dare I say it?
Some of the stuff she did, it's abuse, I hate her,
Or do I? Who knows when it's your Mother,
It's disgusting! She's disgusting! I'm disgusting!
I want to kick both of her creaky old knees,
Scream in Dads face Are you happy now?
You didn't want a family, you wanted living human sacrifices
To offer at the alter of that monster you worship!
My childhood squandered, poured out like an offering
Wasted, I've suffered from its loss,
We paid the highest price, and it wasn't enough!

[woodsgnome]

Mary Ann -- Every painful word in this has, sadly, resonated very deep with my own feelings -- those I can reach, that is. Like you, I don't know what to feel, how to, and certainly not with full confidence, as that too was taken from me. Barely allowed to exist, I too could never find adequate words to express whatever it was that ripped my heart away.

I tell myself it's over, and yet how can that be? I have to comfort myself, always, as no one else will or could evero it. Yet sometimes I just can't either. I don't even want to improve -- I just want to somehow be. It's impossible to 'just get over it'. How you found the words to describe any of the pain is beyond understanding, but you did well to spill them out somehow. I better stop, though, as I'm only muttering my own inability to offer any relief via words that can't work for what was taken from us.

I know, this can seem cheap, but it's here, and it's all I've got; I offer you this small token of empathy and support --  And with these words from something I was reading recently: "I am peace, that is who I am, while old ghosts trespass on land which isn't theirs."

[rainydiary]

Thank you for expressing these words, Mary Anne.  It stood out to me how this involves and impacts everyone in a family. 

[Armee]

This is very powerful Maryann. So impactful and well said.

[bluepalm]

Mary Anne, because your previous poem had such an impact on me I had to wait a day or so before I felt I had the strength to read this poem.

Once again, your words capture your feelings so well, with such intensity. The weight of what you endured comes through so clearly.

Anger is clarifying, isn't it. But also disturbing. You have me thinking I should try to harness my anger into words in a similar way; stop shying away from expressing my bottled up rage at how I was treated. But first I need to let myself feel the full strength of it all.

Thank you for what you have written.

[MaryAnn]

Thanks so much for reading everyone.
It's an odd feeling putting some creative writing on here, because I've only ever shown a couple of my poems to one person before, and that took a lot of working up to.
It's funny, because when I started looking at my life (not till my late thirties) I did do some writing ....kind of like the story of my life...
But it never feels like it's me somehow, it' feels like an anthology of stories about someone else's life...
But when I wrote things in poems ...it feels different...it made me feel actual feelings...I started to feel grief, which was a major breakthrough for me.