Everyone I am closer to it. I had another argument with my mother. Who am I to blame? I was just going through pictures when I was a "saint", or was I treated to "act like one"...I bumped into a picture, a vintage photo of a immortalized nun taped to the frame. That is what I was supposed to be? Was that a prayer to keep me controled? I remeber those suggestions: "You have to marry a virgin. If you don't the veil will fall of in front of everybody in the church and you will be so ashamed, the virgin will cry blood if you don't marry pure" being a ten year old, I believed. I did everything "appropriately" finished through school, graduating college and still a virgin. Eventually, I wanted to break those chains when I met my ex husband. I had premarital sex and everything changed. I was the bitch, as for what my brothers called me. I was twenty four years old, got pregnant quick and the rejection was horrible. To the point where I wanted to throw myself against something so I can end everything. My ex was not helpful. In the end he abandoned me with an infant, unemployed, all alone in a rented apartment for the first time....alone with a child. Struggled up to this day. I can't cope with my "mistake", I wanted to break through. Here I am back at my mother's house. I have my own apartment but I don't want to live there. Why? because I am afraid, to deal with a difficult child, the "failed wife" syndrome which haunts me every day. I made a mistake and there's no way to turn back. My father died in a tragic car accident. My aunt told me the story...that his car slammed against a wall...he was drunk but I question the incident..was it an accident or intentional? When I was a child, I had to cope with his alcoholism and a submissive mother. Late at night, he would arrive stumbling, dragging himself against the wall and I was so scared. Worse were the arguments, I will never forget the day my mother and father argued in the room. It was a custom for my brothers and I to run to the door, just in case we had to run out in the night. So we got to the door, the shouting went on and on. I went to get my mother but I found her with a machete to her neck. My father had the edge on her neck and I screamed fearing the worse. I was five years old and I will never forget. I started to cry loudly to distract him, to see if he would react. My brothers pulled me away comforting me, I heard the hard metal hit the edge of the door and out we went. He did not kill her thank god, but that night we had to run out of the apartment, when we came back the door was locked. I didn't get a good night sleep that night. My teen years were the same, until the day he decided to walk out. My mother would have never left him. She would have continued with that abusive relationship, not even taking in consideration the pain it cause me and my brother. Yes, I have anger. I grew to be this difficult person. My son has suffered some of the bitterness I've taken from my child hood. The other night, I had a nightmare. I dreamt of that night with the machete. Only I was an adult, I couldn't do anything to stop him, then I woke up. It was five in the morning, she saw me crying and I told her. I told her how that past affected me. She had the nerve to blame the nightmare to my failed marriage. What the fuck! She denies everything making me look like a stupid idiot. THAT IS WHY I HATE MYSELF. I know she feels I failed her. My suicide might be a favor. I found my college graduation picture today. I was a picture she kept on wall with all my certificates and degree. It was almost like a shrine. Until I got pregnant. I felt like I failed so i took them off the wall. Four years later i find them. I showed her the picture thinking she might be happy to see it and put it back. She tells me "go put in your house" How do you think that made me feel? All these things wander in my mind. I've never been happy. I used to collect angels, they're all in bags, still in my mother's house. I found many of them broken, I was heart broken. My mother saw my digust and all she did was laugh and sing when it was her who took them out of the closet. This cycle of hell is never ending. Suicide is the only answer. I am so angry.