To my mother….

Mother dearest,

When I was younger I remember watching the movie “Mommie Dearest” I would relate to Joan’s step-daughter Christina and think about how awful you treated me. I’m sure I didn’t see the movie until it was on TV but I was under the age of 8 when I would think these thoughts about our relationship. Then later on in life I discovered the book “A child called it” which was a recount of a boys child abuse and again I related to it. During my 20s when you weren’t in my life , I would always let people know that one day I would write a book and finally talk about my past. The years past, my life became more insane and I pushed off writing because even to write on paper my childhood seemed unreal and when I recounted my life it’s didn’t seem legit so I never moved forward on my writing.

I would like to take a moment and let you know I see you are searching for any post I write, you are still twisting and turning things , and you are still virtually bashing me. 

Welcome to my web page , my site where I speak freely, and congratulations because of you I started writing this blog. So I guess I owe you a thank you, this blog, this space has become a place I can finally tell my side of the story. See I never talked about all my issues before because I truly believed that it didn’t matter. This blog , your recent lie has shown me that I’m not alone in this world. I am finally able to just be open about everything including my own flaws. This page , this blog it may have started because of you but it’s become something more and not just for me but for others that have suffered isolation, depression, or whatever it is because of some mentally ill family member.

See mom unlike you I don’t just think about hurting people for my gain but instead I heal by helping others. Unlike you I don’t sit in my delusions and lead on a community of virtual followers to benefit myself. Instead I found a community of woman who have helped me find my voice . I have found a support system and its all because of you……

The more you bash me online, the more you talk about me ….makes your followers curious about me. See what they find isn’t all the lies you write about on Facebook but they are finding that everything you seem to write is a lie. So again I owe you a thank you, thank you for being an advertisement for my blog. Thank you for helping woman find my blog so they can have a support system. Thank you for giving me nothing so I had to build everything I have on my own and I can be proud about who I have become. Thank you for trying to make me a victim so I could become a survivor. Most of all thank you for giving me content to write about. So maybe you don’t have a relationship with your 5 children, maybe none of your kids speak to you, maybe you have no relationship with any of your grandkids, your siblings , or even your mother. Maybe you are just a waste of space in this world but because of you I am now a better person then I was before. So thank you for showing what truly crazy is and teaching me that I am something very special to have become a good person from such a bad example. 

Regrettably your daughter,

A Dented Can

One thought on “To my mother….

  1. To my dearest friend Heather, I have known you for so long and I want to add that one could not have asked for a better friend, someone who is there for you at all times, not when it’s necessary or convenient, day or night, doesn’t matter, I know I can count on you.

    Having Ben made you stronger, I have to admit when you first told me about the pregnancy I had my doubts, with all the things going on around you, especially with your mother, I should say the person that gave birth to you, because frankly, that is all she has done for you, in the past and now, but yet you proved me wrong, thank you for that, your mother keeps on knocking you down and you keep getting up, you are an intelligent and beautiful woman, inside and out,what a shame that because of her illness she’ll never get to know you like I had the pleasure to.

    I cherish and I love you like were my own sister.

    I feel for your mother, the poor dear can’t ever understand or feel what you feel every day, she’ll never see or understand the love you have for your children, the look on your face when you talk about them.


    Your friend…Loredana


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