"Forgiveness is for yourself, not the injuring party," Aunt B always says. But if I forgive, does that mean a relationship, whether distant or close, must form? I want no relationship but I do want my thoughts void of her. If I forgive, will that happen? 

 It should be easy to forgive the mentally ill, such as my mother is, logically. She is sick, so she won't get help, so she won't get better, so she gets sicker. I wouldn't blame her if she had cancer, another disease that grows until it eats at the entire body. Why should I blame her for this?

At this point in the forgiveness argument in my head, I remember sitting there, playing, feeling a crack across my head. "Get up and work." What work? Do what? The kids, the moldy dishes in the sink, dinner, laundry that fills the living room to the brim so we have no where to sit? 

You self-proclaimed genius, what do you want? Since I am a bitch and a whore, something only you think a ten year old is, I must be too busy to mother for you. I'm too busy now to forgive you.

Then at this point, with this argument in my head, I turn to my dad, my grandma, teachers, my aunt, everyone who saw her craziness and let her be. They were scared of her, but I was little, and the oldest. I won't forgive them either, people who shook their head when they saw my bruises and slaps and myself alone with no friends because no one could come over to play--"they are dirty, and they might sue us."

I turn to DCFS, which I called to have her other children taken away. "The house if very clean" they say. Naturally, someone who packs washcloths for Wal Mart trips and cleans the toilet before she sits on it (and then throws the towels away) or someone who washes the washing machine after she puts dirty laundry in it will have a clean house. "There is food in the house" they say. Yep, a narcissist won't allow unhealthy, bleached flour or processed dinners in the house; her figure and physical self are too important. Damn you stupid people. You don't need forgiveness either.

I had my childhood ruined by this nut job, whom I hate, whom I will always hate, whom I will always feel sorry for, whom I will never forgive, can never forgive, can never believe she deserves forgiveness--she sits in her house cleaning, scared of the outside world, letting no one in, letting no one out, shaking, crying, a weak narcissist living in her kingdom, whom I should forgive to get her out of my head, but won't.