Hateful Mommy Hyde–Part 1

“No, we have to wipe it off!”
“No way!”
“Yes. We’ve gotta. If she dies, Dad won’t keep all four of us!”

Black and White Face

This Isn’t Like My Usual Posts. Here Is the Only Picture.

We’ll wind up with our legal guardians! You know what THEY’RE like. You don’t wanna live with THEM, do you?”

The four of us kids are down-cellar, having second thoughts about the butter we’ve smeared on the top step leading down from the kitchen. We’ve spread it there in order to cause our mom to slip and break her neck.

I don’t know how old we all were–we are each two years apart–but somewhere young enough that we all assumed death would be the only possible outcome, and old enough that at least some of us knew what “legal guardians” meant.

When my sister’s Meg’s therapist told her that our emotional lives in that house were identical to those of the children living in the European death-camps, I had a visceral reaction of disgust–at her therapist, for his gross and inappropriate comment. I repeated it to my own therapist, who, to my great astonishment, agreed one-hundred percent.

None of we four children remember my mom, an upper-middle-class college graduate, ever reading to us. I taught myself to read.

She didn’t ever cuddle us, or hug us (with one exception). While she did, sometimes, kiss us goodnight on the cheek before we went up to bed, as far as any of us can recall she never once tucked us in to sleep, or talked to us about our day.

That doesn’t sound so bad.
 
Part 1 of a 7-part series that will be posted daily. Following that, the focus will shift away from my mommy issues.
 
Hateful Mommy Hyde–Part 2
 

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17 Comments

  1. M-R

     /  2014/08/17

    This is tough stuff: I hope you’re really ready to put it out here …
    I doubt that it needs any pictures at all, but that’s only 1 opinion.

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    Reply
    • I prepared myself and just sat down and did it. It’s about d#mned time, too. Always hard for me to post when I don’t feel I’ve worked something to death, but managed to let go of that, as well.

      I’m listening to you on the pictures issue, in that I’m allowing myself more flexibility. I like them; several readers like them, but they feel less of a ball-and-chain than previously. Thank you, Margaret-Rose.

      For these posts, I had no time to fuss, and they were less relevant.

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      • M-R

         /  2014/08/17

        As I have probably bored you shitless with saying a thousand times, the main thing is to LIKE what you post. I believe that if you do, we will too.
        I like this, but I see tears before bedtime … Which is no bad thing, quite often.

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  2. Paul

     /  2014/08/17

    Thank you for sharing OB.It takes a lot of strength.

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    Reply
    • Paul, you always compliment, and I want to accept graciously–something I still have difficulty with–but I can’t accept a compliment under false pretences. I am doing this series because I have to.

      What took strength was coming house every day. What took strength was waiting “until your father gets home”. What took strength was keeping all crying into your pillow absolutely silent, so that no one knew they had succeeded in making you cry.

      For successes like that, I’ll accept compliments.

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      Reply
  3. RR

     /  2014/08/17

    Your mother sounds like she would get on well with my biological mother. I recently posted about her parenting. Or lack thereof. Thanks for sharing.

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    Reply
    • Everyone should read your post, Rebecca. I just came back from there, and it is awful and wonderful, and so very moving. The best part for me is that it has such a happy ending!

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      • RR

         /  2014/08/17

        You are far more kind than I deserve. Many thanks to you.

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        • That “than I deserve” comes out of that abused place. Edit that sh#t out of your brain. That’s something all of us ex-victims now-survivors need to work on đŸ™‚

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  4. Yemie

     /  2014/08/19

    The dialogues ensuing at the beginning of this touching piece sounds like lines from a horror flick! A fictitious work! That kids had these train of thoughts, enough to want to see ’em through is grotesque, the horror! It takes more than just birthing another human being to be called a mum. How does one establish a lasting bond with one’s children without the occasional cuddles, hugs and kisses?! I just can’t wrap this whole thing around my head! Its simply ludicrous, on a very massive scale! Thanks sooo much for sharing! There are life lessons to be picked up and learnt from all of these! Of a truth!

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    • The interesting thing to me is that Macy Girl was down there in that basement, too. Back then, even the most loved and wanted child of we four thought that house was hellish enough to want to kill off one of our parents.

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  5. I will read these as I can bear to, Babe, so I can feel I’ve gotten to know you better. My heart aches for you children.

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    • Am I the most remiss of bloggers, or what? I just noticed tonight that someone unknown had touched this post today, and went back and re-read it, as I do–and saw your un-replied-to comment. Jeez. I wish WP offered a batch routine (a nightly or weekly program that ran) to send us a report of unresponded-to comments, for I am often guilty of missing some, and they languish. Perhaps this is part of why, after three years of blogging, I have less than 150 followers, hmmm?? (Although, a bigger part may be that I can permit myself to follow only a handful of others…)

      Anyhow, don’t feel you ever have to read them, Barbara. SHOULD you ever care to, I was realizing this week that the Hyde Cycle actually began two posts earlier, so you’ll see that reflected on the Mommy Hyde Series menu on the Home page. I haven’t yet figured out a convenient way of handling all this series stuff in WP.

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      • Don’t give it a second thought, Babe. Sometimes I leave a message more just to let you know something than to necessarily hear back from you….although hearing back is always welcome too. And the fact you have only 150 followers is a sad reflection on the basic dumb-dee-dumb-dumb quality of the blogosphere. IMHO. Of which there is nothing humble. Besides, talking about followers, wouldn’t you rather have 150 “good” followers who read and comment than hordes of those who follow only to vanish and never be heard from again. I cannot understand that aspect of blogging. Why on earth do some people follow and then never, ever engage again?

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        • Now, that is interesting. I am actually very happy to have readers who don’t comment, as well as those who do. Some people are not comfortable commenting. Some feel they have nothing to say, some are too shy, some feel others say what they would have, some are too busy…I am happy if folks are reading. What I do see from the numbers and the sources of hits is that I actually have only about 30 regular readers. That is better than 0 regular readers : ) and I am grateful for every one. Especially as I do tend to ramble on………………………………………………………

          (Okay, I also DO have an ego, think some of my pieces are marvelous, and believe thousands should have read them. But then I read your posts, and the posts of dozens of others, and see that there are an awful lot of marvelous writers out here, and limited time for readers, darn it.)

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          • I read somewhere ages ago that there are readers who never follow and followers who never read. I’ll take the former any day. Couldn’t care less about the number of followers I have. I’d like my post to just be the first half of the post, all the comments is what makes it fun. And your pieces are marvelous….Miss Tiny Town….and thousands should read them.

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