A letter that will never be sent

Dear Prisca,

I’m writing this to give myself closure. Nothing I say would make you see me. And be an actual mother. Although I could really use one. I never had that relationship so many take for granted. You chose Don and status over me. You looked the other way when I cried for help and love. I try so hard to remember the good with you but it is all just erased. I have the video of us with Don, Annie and Jackie in the World Trade Center and it looks like at some point things were okay. Even though you hear the way Don always talked to me. He would make me feel like a nothing compared to Annie and Jackie. And that was all you guys did. Compare me to them. The fact that I wasn’t sporty was something you held over my head. I know I disappointed you with something new all the time. Do you ever think of how that really destroyed my confidence and self esteem? You didn’t even want to go to my high school graduation. But because your friends were going you reluctantly went. You sent to me find a prom dress with Don. He made me get the ugliest dress that made me look like a sack of potatoes. You wouldn’t let me go with my best friends in the limo and instead made me wait for my “date” to arrive over an hour late. You never took me shopping like every other mother does. You had a built in maid/nurse to do everything for you. My back is never going to be ok because of lifting you all the time. I was ok with that until you decided to just stop talking to me. Now I feel like you just used me and haven’t thought of me as your daughter, like, ever. And yet. I feel guilty. Guilty that I’m not doing everything for you. Guilty that you are alone. Guilty that you spend every holiday/birthday alone. That you mourned your brother alone. But you never even told me he was dead. You are a constant thought that I wish could just disappear. Google says your still alive. No obit yet. God I hate how fucked up it is that that is how I have to keep track of you. And why do I keep track of you? Just a few months ago I was waiting for you to die just so I can stop all of this. I know I’m shitty for that. I hate myself for that. But I don’t know how to get over all this. You know what images keep coming to bother me? When I was 12 and up cleaning Don’s bathroom putting things away I opened a drawer and saw all the sex toys. It wasn’t bad enough hearing them at night even with a pillow over my head, I am positive he was so loud during your adult time just so I can hear it. I heard him saying my friend’s name once. While you were having sex. Remember the time after Nanny died and she left me her vcr so I could watch movies in my room? And you and Don kicked me out of my room to watch porn on Nanny’s vcr and fuck in my bed while I cleaned? I do. Remember when Nanny was dying in NJ and Don started assaulting me? Because I do. Why did you ever think that was ok??????? What kind of mother does that shit? Because I can’t forgive you. I can’t forget it no matter how much I want to. I don’t know how to block that shit out. Let’s not forget how you were always mad at either Don or me. And you wouldn’t say a word to whoever did you wrong that time. Those were the only times Don actually enjoyed my company. We would talk shit about you and how you could never be happy with both of us at the same time. I did everything for you. I gave up so much to be the daughter you wanted and it was never enough. I know it will never be enough. I can’t put myself through begging for you to forgive me for something I didn’t do. I don’t even know what I did this time. You have hurt me like no one ever could, and others have tried. You were supposed to be the person I can turn to for everything. I suffered alone for so long, waiting for you to change. You can’t change someone who doesn’t want to be changed. You really can’t change someone who doesn’t think they ever did anything wrong. I will never forgive you for giving up on me. You don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it. I loved you. With everything in me. I proved it and you never even saw it. No one deserves to be alone but when they choose that life they have to live with that decision. – -The daughter you never wanted.


I am sharing my story of why and how I developed BPD and what I am doing to rebuild myself.

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