Home » Creations » Writer.. » Dear Diary, » Dear Diary,

Dear Diary,

Published on 15 October 2017 at 23:00

Now my mother is no longer with us. And I am again in a knot with myself. I am so sad because I fled to Portugal. Living in the Netherlands is always with a huge backpack. This will never be different. Because there is a whole history here. My mom always blamed me for being the reason she got so sick.

My mother had asthma last year. And in September 2016 I kicked it out with mom and her husband. September 4, 2016, on my older sister's birthday. In the evening I quickly packed a suitcase with things and went to live with my brother. This was less than a month after I returned from Bulgaria, where I had lived and worked for over nine months.

My mother said she missed me very much and wanted me to come back home. At the time I was still very much attached to my mother and therefore went back to the Netherlands. But after four days it already went wrong and we had a huge fight again. This is mainly because my mother did not do a single thunder in the house except for the wine, liquor 24/7. And I just tidy up, clean, cook. But then when her husband came home, my mother said she had cleaned up everything and switched roles and pretended I was not doing anything.

This caused fierce arguments, because of course he believed my mother, his wife, instead of me. And on September 4, I was also invited to my sister's birthday in Utrecht, which was the first time in years that I was invited again. I first agreed with my younger sister that I would drop by her clothing store to score a nice outfit for that evening. So I packed my things after sitting in my room for 1 week without speaking a word to my parents. I packed my things and without saying anything I walk straight to the garage, where my bike is. My mother immediately follows me and says if I leave now I never have to come back. Then I can now immediately hand in my house key, because I can no longer get into them.

Okay, no problem I say to my mother. I take the house key from my forest and give it to my mother, please I say and goodbye. She still shouts: "are you sure, you really won't get in anymore". I have not reacted anymore, in tears I cycle to the station in the meantime I will already let my younger sister know what happened.

In the evening we are at the Dorst Festival in Utrecht where my older sister works, but we were able to give a present despite her at work. After a pleasant evening, we go home with them all. I drive home with my older brother, his girlfriend, my younger sister and her boyfriend. I repeat what happened in the afternoon. My brother parks a view and my younger sister has an extra house key to my mother's house, despite she no longer lives there. She walks over to the house with me and tries to open the doors, but from inside they have turned keys in the locks, so that we can no longer get in. So she rings the bell, my younger sister makes a comment about it as soon as the door is opened by my stepfather.

My stepfather is wondering what I'm here to do, because I really can't get in anymore. A whole discussion starts, in which I tell the truth, but my stepfather believes my mother and not me. I can pack some things and then I have to get out. In the meantime, my older brother also comes to see why it is taking so long. My stepfather makes unfounded comments about my father to my older brother and they almost grab each other by the throats.

In the meantime I packed a suitcase with stuff, I double checked it a number of times and I think I have everything. I walk down the stairs in tears and leave my suitcase in the car with my brother. Everyone tries to reassure me that it is not my fault what is happening now and that it will all be fine. I can spend the night with my brother on the couch at home. In the end I lived with my brother for more than 4 months from that one night until I found a place myself. Fortunately, around January I was able to rent something from the vacancy law in Vught and then I moved over.

Slowly I got back in touch with my mother. After she wrongly reported me, I have never heard of this again. But my mother made several reports over the years, including one against my father. And no one has ever heard of it. I think the police simply stopped taking her seriously.

Posted on: 15-10-2017


«   »

Add comment

Comments

There are no comments yet.