Hates Me
This is another very old poem of mine, from my latter teen years. I think I was about 18 or so. The most precise I can be is that it’s about a period in my life before I graduated from high school. My father was in the service, so we moved and changed schools a lot. I only know for certain that it’s from while I was attending my last high school.
In the darkness, alone, I sit trembling
Lost in fear, unloved, unwanted
I’m in her way, we’re in her way
She hates me, hates me, hates me
I know I’m worthless
What use can I be, I’m nothing
Misbegotten bastard reminder
She hates, hates me, hates me
Undeserving, rotten kid
Always wrong, never good enough
A pain and disappointment
I hate me, hate me, hate me
© 20 August 2014
by D. Denise Dianaty
A poignant write, Denise. I can only imagine how it must have felt to believe these were the sentiments of your mother. I can't imagine they were but I do not doubt the pain felt or the situations surrounding the pain. The thing about suffering is that it can blind one to the love they have in them and create painful words that have no basis in truth. For sure, you were loved. I could not imagine you anything but loveable.
Thanks, Pryde. And, I’ve always said the my mother loved me as much as she knew how to love. That remains her tragedy.
I believe where and how she exists now, she loves you without reserve.
I know where and how she lives. It’s the way of all my immediate kin. I wish she and they would be different. I spent most of my life thinking she was going to be different… surely she would see. I went back again and again only to wither under more abuse. When her abusive dogma turned on my husband and son… when her abuse taught my son to hate, it was too late – but, too late, I walked away from them for his sake.
Sadly, her dogma remains the ascendent factor in all her sentiments. She simply does not understand the harm her dogma inflicts and seems incapable of understanding that her dogma can only be a wall between my little family and her.
I will always hope they may change, may wake to how antithetical their dogma is to the faith they profess. I will continue to pray for them and hope. But, I will not ever let them back into my life for my son’s sake.
She loves us as much as she knows how. I cannot afford for that to be enough for my son.
I thought perhaps she had passed. Things are clearer now ... she is attached to her judgement, moralizing and condemning; she thinks it keeps her safe.
I think you’re right that she thinks it keeps her safe. I’ve come to believe that people who choose fundamentalist dogma do so out of fear that the Old Testament “wrath of God” stuff in the Bible will rain down over every slightest infraction. When your belief is predicated on fear and retribution rather than grace and love, I think it makes your world very small and frightening. Moralizing and condemning are the weapons of frightened people who build walls and strike out at anything that might breech those walls.
There is also a touch of the narcissist in it. They also think it makes them superior and they cannot bear to live without thinking they are special and better than others. They have also not connected the pain in their back or high blood pressure to their thoughts.
I believe you’re correct
Bello! <3
What does that mean?
She hasn't read the poem and perhaps due to a language barrier is not able to. Best to just leave these types of comments on the table and un-responded to. Don't waste the bandwidth.