4.8 • 2.7K Ratings
🗓️ 7 June 2022
⏱️ 22 minutes
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0:00.0 | My psychotic mother spat in my face during an argument and weirdly enough I could not be happier |
0:06.1 | that this happened. I became the recipient of my mother's abuse for daring to ask her to let |
0:11.2 | go of my sister's hair who recently moved into this monster's house. As she was attacking my sister, |
0:16.8 | she spat at me. Why would she do this? Because my request was seen as taking sides with my sister |
0:22.9 | and that I was going against her. Her entitlement and arrogance would make God humble enough to |
0:28.4 | bow down to her. The reason why I am glad that she spat at me is because for once in my life, |
0:34.0 | I am no longer consumed by guilt, resentment and empathy towards her. She is now nothing to me. |
0:40.1 | For years, she beat us savagely, but what bothered me the most wasn't the physical beating. |
0:45.0 | It was the emotional turmoil that followed suit. I'd feel an intense white hot hatred for her, |
0:50.4 | which was then amplified by guilt for despising her, and finally being overwhelmed by empathy for |
0:56.2 | her aging declining health and loneliness. And by the way, this loneliness was caused by her toxic |
1:02.1 | behavior that prompted the rest of the family to abandon her. But alas, no more. I am free from this |
1:08.0 | emotional present that I locked myself in due to her. For the first time in 28 years, I can sleep |
1:14.2 | without caring about how she feels. But this is what baffles me the most about all of this. Why |
1:19.6 | didn't I reach this point eight years ago when I became a recluse in her house as I hid due to a |
1:25.5 | health issue and endured daily abuse from her? I mean, what changed all those days and nights? |
1:31.2 | She would barge into my room and screech like a wounded hyena, completely ignoring the blood |
1:36.4 | stain sheets I'm laying on from scratching relentlessly, trying to rip eczema ridden skin off |
1:42.0 | of my sleep deprived state. Once she would leave, I'd still feel consumed by guilt and empathy for |
1:47.7 | her. I'd wage an internal war of conflicting emotions that would only increase the strength I'd |
1:52.5 | use to dig my nails into my skin to relieve this supposed itching. She projected her saliva |
1:57.8 | like a snake spews its venom on its victim. But unlike the snake which would kill its prey, |
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