scream into your pillow

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

have you ever gotten so angry you couldn’t even breathe? that no matter what you did, there was no relief. such is the story of my life. for a portion of my earlier years, i’ve had to hold things in. it was never about me and i had no control over anything. my mother was an addict from early on in my life until her death in 1998. my siblings and i weren’t even old enough to pour our own juice: 8, 7, and 4. therefore, a lot of broken promises and inconsistencies. my brother and i were her caregivers, instead of the other way around. if we didn’t wake her up, there was hell to pay. i remember one time in particular. my mother had been out all night partying and was sleeping when we woke up. we yelled and yelled for her to wake up, shook her, etc.; she wouldn’t budge. all of a sudden, i had to pee…..bad! i ran upstairs, did my business, ran back downstairs, only to find my mother awake and my brother standing next to her, knees knocking.

“no school for cassie.”

i loved school. it was my sanctuary away from this hell. school was the only thing i could look forward to. i screamed and cried the whole way to drop my brother off at school. hardly, shed a tear or let out a whimper before then. not only was i kept from an education and socialization, but she made me clean the house and completely cater to her…i was 5. not long after that day, she forgot to pick me up from school. i had to wait for other family members to put their responsibilities on hold to pick me up from the bus stop. next thing i knew, i was getting into my step fathers mothers van and driving to her house.

as it turned out; she had won custody over my siblings and me. we lived with her for 11 years. she became more than a guardian or grandmother. i think after the move, i saw my mother once every few months after that. one day at my dads apartment, i had gotten into trouble and was sent to bed. i don’t remember why but i remember the dream, vividly. it was sort of an odd dream about my mother, step father, brother, sister, and me looking for houses. we were in a train and each time the door would open, it would be as if we were opening doors to houses and looking inside. a few houses go by until we finally find one that we want; huge victorian style house and very dark. we proceed to step into the house and see a dark figure coming toward us. my family and i stare in wonder and i notice i’m going towards it without moving my legs. i look down and realize i’m on my mothers shoulders and she is the one moving forward. i hop down and scream her name while pulling on her as hard as a little girl can. i look in her face and his. this skeleton looking creature with the scary hooded robe has completely brainwashed my mother and was taking her away from her family. i woke up sweating and crying. random fact: my dads girlfriend had made spaghetti that night. just a few short weeks after, they had told me and my brother my mother had died in a fire due to smoke inhalation. i wondered for a long time why that wouldn’t have woken her up until a few years ago. she was in a heroin-induced coma when the smoke from the fire she had started killed her.

i think her death sort of caused something to break in me. everything would upset me and cause me to cry or fight. up until about 12 1/2, it was always cry. months before my 13th birthday, i started smoking and hanging out with a pretty bad crowd, so i quit blubbering like a baby and started standing up for myself more and more. my grandmother hated it, i screamed when i got upset. i had actually gotten an earring ripped out from a slap i had gotten from her for yelling in her face. it had seemed like every other week she was telling me, “before you start your shit, go upstairs and scream into a pillow for a few minutes, then come down”. still to this day, i’ve got that same anger that would infuriate my grandmother. it isn’t just yelling and basically throwing a tantrum…the anger runs deep. every time i get mad, it brings me back to my mother and life with her and it physically affects me. what has helped throughout everything was my children and just screaming into that damn pillow. i think i may tell my kids the same thing; “scream into a pillow!”

Table of Contents

Life with Me


My grandmother always found a way to make me feel a little better; screaming into my pillow.
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