after that last evening, my mother wanted nothing to do with me. she would still lash out form time to time, and push my buttons… but she did so from a distance, and i tried to ignore it as much as possible. but then… she realized she could get to me through my little brother and sister.
at first, she tried violence, the same way she had done with me. I have tried to remember what the precipitating even was that led up to this… but not being a part of it initially, i simply cant recall. she had done something to my sister, and i was almost looking for an excuse.
i walked into the house with purpose, looking for her. i found her on the phone in her bedroom complaining about us to someone. without saying a word, i walked in, grabbed the phone and flung it, then hit her as hard as i could in the face. it connected with her jaw and knocked her out cold.
there it was. power. i had it now. now i had no reason to fear her. i can take her.
from that day forward, she knew that her every move was being documented for a court fight. so she would come up with inane reasons for physical discipline if i wasnt around (and would sometimes even try it when i was there). things like “you ate too many cookies – 50 swats”. if i was home, and i started seeing her become physical with either of them… i got physical, and she backed down instantly.
eventually she gave up on physical discipline and instead started the mental torture. my little brother was simply too innocent, or too dumb to understand what she was doing or saying… but it got to my sister. she berated her… called her fat… worthless… unloveable… disgusting – a lot of the same things she said to me (which was why we bonded as deeply as we did) my sister would later develop an eating disorder because of that torment. she lost her life to it around 10 years later.
eventually, the court sided with my dad, and he was awarded custody of us. it was over. we were free. we moved out asap, and moved in with our dad. but, my mother was not done yet.
she learned i had a phone line in our room at my dads house… and apparently unbeknownst to me – got the number for it. she would call at 3am reading me bible verses about how i would burn in hell. i stopped using that phone and wouldnt take her calls… so she would call and leave these long voicemails with even more bible nonsense. if i unplugged my answering machine… she would call the regular house phone and do it there.
one day, i was expecting a call from a girl i had just asked out, and my mom was the furthest thing from my mind. the phone rang and i eagerly picked up. “theres the fag. how are you queer? has god told you how you are going to burn in hell yet today?” and then started reading some passage from her bible.
i snapped. i couldnt take it anymore. i got up… walked to the garage where i found a bag of someones old golf clubs, grabbed the biggest iron in the bag, and started the mile or two walk towards her house. i was going to use it on her. i wanted to hurt her. i got there and banged on the door and she pulled it open a tiny bit before seeing me swing the golf club at her with every ounce of strength i had. she slammed the door just as it connected… splintering the front door into a million pieces and bending the club. i tried to open it but she had locked the door. i could see her through the window…. the fear on her face drove me even further. “DONT MAKE ME BREAK A WINDOW” – she ran towards the kitchen and grabbed the phone to call the cops.
one of my oldest friends walked across the street and grabbed me.. pulling me away from the house. he calmed me down and let me stay at his house until the cops had come and gone. we could see them searching around the house… their flashlights going everywhere. they had no idea i was across the street watching. but more importantly… it meant she didnt know if i was still there or not… so she was still terrified.
it makes me sound evil… but i got my point across. she stopped doing that at least for a while.
a few years later… she did it one more time, to leave me with something to think about. her message told me that she aborted me. when the doctor told her the twins were not viable, they recommend abortion. i have never gotten to the bottom of just how it failed… but it obviously did. i confirmed this with my grandmother who was disgusted that she told me… but confirmed it was true. she looked at it as more of a “see what a miracle you are?” than something negative.
we were technically allowed to “choose” whether we wanted to go visit her on the weekends. we never really did. my sister tried (against my protest) a couple of times, only to come home on sunday in tears, wishing she had listened to me. that was the last time i saw her until my grandfather passed away many years later. she tried to start a conversation and come over and say hi at his funeral… i just gritted my teeth and pointed at her… the rest of her family shuffled her away to leave me alone.