After almost 6 months of nothing my Mum has called me twice in the last 3 weeks. 

The first time,  it was 7 in the morning on a weekend and I was still in bed.  My first thought was that maybe she was in trouble so I picked up.  She asks me how I am and I stated the fact that it was 7 in the morning and I hung up. 

I walked around feeling guilty for picking up the phone call for the next week and a half. I honestly felt like I won a battle but lost the war just cuz I showed her that I cared by picking up the phone.  The whole point of moving away from my past was to show them that I didn’t care as much as the didn’t care about me.  The whole point was to show them that I won’t be there when they really needed me.  And here I was picking up the phone call cuz I thought something was wrong.  7am wasn’t that early anyway!  

I had to remind myself over and over again that the people I missed were only people I made up on my head.  They weren’t real.  Reality was them being okay with me being abused by a pedaphile. Reality was,  I hadn’t had a hug since I was 10 or 11. Reality was no I love you, it was always – I gave you food and education.

She called again yesterday when I was at work. As soon as I saw the number,  I had a panic attack.  That second of my heart stopping and my palms sweating.  The realisation that I still care hit me like a ton of bricks and my mother’s face. … 

I hope she never calls again because I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this fake bravado

This is it


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