Dear Mom,
I've tried so hard to love you, to understand you, but the wedge that seperated us so many years ago is the same wedge that seperates us now. I know you have spent a lifetime running from your demons, but your demons became my demons, and I had to fight them alone. You suffocated me in order to keep me, yet you lost me anyway's. You keep loosing me. You tell me you want a relationship with me, yet you pity me, like some lost soul hiding among the shadows. I am your greatest blessing and you biggest curse. You never accepted me, you never helped me try to understand who I am.
You wanted me to be like you. You wanted to fulfill your dreams and desires through me, but I am not you. I'm me, but you don't want to see me for who I am. You look at me as cursed, while you practically worship those who call me cursed yet possess no love in their hearts at all.
You love and betray me all in the same breathe. You pity me as some lost soul needing to be "Saved" . You grieve for a soul that is alive. You condemn every good act I do. You don't want to see me, you want to see you and what you wish you were.
How dare you condem people who have dedicated their hearts and souls, their time, energy and money for helping people they never even met, and pitiying me for being a part of that and exalt theives and conartist. Don't you understand they they are the hell you are afraid to go to and you sacrificed your daughter to them?
If your so concerned about me, why don't you ask your God why he made me this way. Ask him why he cursed me the day I was born. Why don't you ask him why you were stuck with the "cursed" one, the evil psychic, when you should have had the church goer. The "Annointed One". He will tell you he didn't curse me, you did! You cursed me with all of your fears. You cursed me by making me deny myself. You cursed me by rejecting me, all of me. Your light is my darkness, your heaven is my hell. My gifts didn't make me question God, your people did, you did! You pushed me away from God. You forced me down the path I went down and then you reject my path? You are embarressed in front of your "church" friends and make excuses on why I am not like them? You have no idea who I am. You have never even seen the good that I have done. You will never know the depth of my heart. You will never know the depth of my pain, nor will you ever see the depth of my love because you refuse to accept it.
The one child that is cursed, is the only child who will always stick by you when you need her. The only child who will take care of you when you are elderly and sick. This child in front of you is the only one who undertands your pain for giving up three children and the only child who forgives you for doing it. Yet the child you wanted doesn't want to have anything to do with you. She is to wrapped up in her own pain to even awkowledge your pain even exsist. She is just like you and refuses to see anything other then herself. The church girl, growing up and marrying a pastor at, ironically, the same affiliaed church as yourself. The one that isn't cursed is the one that condems you to hell everyday of her life and the one that is cursed, all she ever wanted to do was love you. When are you going to see that what you are searching for is sitting right in front of your face? When are you going to see that the "cursed" one cares more about you then any of the "Holy One's" you spend all of your time idolizing.
There is a part of me that really hated you when I was growing up. I hated your church. I hated the people and their snobbery. I hated being looked down upon because I was different. I hated being gossipped about behind my back just because it was my turn to be gossiped. I hated them loving me one Sunday and rejecting me the next because I didn't agree with them. And I hated you for being just like them. I hated you, in your sick and twisted mind, for turning me from your daughter to my father's other woman. I hated you for rejecting me for who I was. And now I hate myself for being just like you.
I didn't need a saviour, I needed a mother.
