“T” is a 16 year old Ventura County resident. Names have been changed in this true story.
Ever since my parents got a divorce when I was only five years old, I have been trying to win my mother over. She never even showed an interest in fighting for custody. I have an older sister, Carol, and a younger brother, Charles.
I used to think that my life was a mess, but now that I think about it, if my father hadn’t gotten us away from our mother it would have been much worse. Don’t get me wrong I love my mother. The thing is she was more of a best friend than a parent.
I miss her with all my heart. On January 19th 2010 she died from drug and alcohol overdose. Getting that phone call was like I had just been thrown into my own personal hell. I did everything for my mom, even though she never showed true interest in me. I couldn’t help it, no matter what she said or did she was still my mom and I would always love her.
Before my sister had run away from my mom’s house, my mother and I had a well set relationship. She didn’t sleep much and I was always the one she would get to go driving around at two and three in the morning. I didn’t mind, considering I don’t sleep much either. I loved the time I spent with her because it was just her and I. It was our thing. And whenever she was sick, I’d be the one to go to the hospital with her because no one else was willing to go and wait around for hours. Again I didn’t mind because I was with her, and she would talk to me and give me the attention I so desperately have been craving for since I was a little girl.
Once Candice left our dad’s house to go live with our mom, everything seemed to change. It’s like I wasn’t even there, like I was just wasted space. Mom and I started fighting all the time over the most stupid things you can imagine. I didn’t know how I could get back to the relationship with her. I was clueless.
So I did what my sister did, I simply became my mother’s mini me. I smoked cigarettes with her, I smoked weed with her, I drank till I threw up or past out, depended on which one came first. I popped pills I didn’t even know the names of. I did everything she did but more just to make sure she would be proud of me.
It’s pretty sad that a mother of three children let drugs and drinking effect her life that badly, and it wasn’t just her life that had to go through it, it was all of us. My heart dies a little when I realize that my mother wouldn’t have given me a second look if I hadn’t gotten into drugs and drinking.
Thinking of my mom’s death makes me sad at times, but other times it just makes me mad. Thinking that not only did she not want me, but she chose to kill herself instead of being there for her children. My mother was my world but apparently her children weren’t a big enough reason for her to live in this world. She chose to be selfish and take her own life.