"Ruined" - an abstract original oil painting, mother and daughter painting, textured woman painting, bright girl art, modern living room wall art

 



STORY 3: 

MOTHER: 

Only after I gave birth to you did I clearly realize I am child-free. But it was too late.

You hung on my breasts and neck in literal, and shackled my hands and feet metaphorically. I was told that was postpartum depression and everything should pass, but I was never completely sure of this. When you were 2, 3, 6 or 10, I could stay and sit with you a little and even play with your toys, but I could never say I was unable to imagine my life without you. NEVER. 

From the moment you were born, you were crying and screaming all the time. Endlessly. Ferociously. For many months in a row without stopping. I was barely dead and didn't remember my own name (not to mention coming up and taking you in my arms). 

When I used to be out shopping for milk for you, I did not want to come back. 
When I was looking at myself in the mirror I vomited with disgust - I gained 35 kg. My body and head were aching all the time.

I was secretly dreaming of you being hit by a car or falling out of the window of our skyscraper. Then I would finally be free. No, I would surely cry, perhaps for a long time, or for an infinitely long time I would grieve and be ashamed of myself, but what I did know for sure I WOULD FEEL FREE. I was mad at myself for such thoughts (after all, I was never a freak, nor am I now, I have always been normal!), was mad at you, screaming in the neighboring room, at woman’s bad lot, at my mother who gave birth to me who is such a monster, at her blunders with me, I was mad at the whole world.

And one day I finally admitted the truth: I hate you. 

I opposed this thought for a very long time, I did not let it into me, drove it away like an annoying fly - I really tried.

But the truth was YOU RUINED MY LIFE.

No, it was not top-notch or something - just ordinary life. But I was comfortable in it. Your father and I'd been in a relationship for a long time, even though we weren't officially married. We met several times a week for many, many years, spent vacations and holidays together, and everyone was happy. Exactly until our relatives, each and separately (or not?..) started pushing us to get married and have kids. Everyone promised help and support when persuading, and all were blown away like a wind when I returned home with you from the maternity ward. Your father helped as much as he could, I admit. But overall men get off easily. And they quickly run away from home to work making excuses that someone should support the family…

And the truth is that you ruined us too, your father and me, as a couple. The three of us all became very cramped together...

In your teenage years, you went off the rails completely. You were stealing money, blackmailing, throwing tantrums, leaving home for several days. Started drinking. I called ambulances and morgues. I was looking for you at night on roofs and in basements. When I saw your companies, I turned gray. 

And how much you hated me, oh, Lord! What a contemptuous look you always gave me back!..

Of course, your father left us and took on a new life. And I have been suffering with you all my life. Now I'm 50, and you're 22. You don't work, you still take my money and drink even more with all the same bad companies. You are falling into the abyss. And you are pregnant with the child whose father you never know.

Yes, I hate you. And yes, you ruined my life. A twisted little nothing, that's what you are.


Close-ups:






Interior Examples:






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