I would hope not to write much about this. Do not get me wrong, I adore her like you have no idea. She taught me most of the things I know. Mum was my first friend and teacher, she cared as much as she could for me.

Mum enjoyed brushing my hair, painting my nails, dressing me, teaching me, taking me out of the city into adventures, reading me books, drawing together...there are so many things we shared. Great things and bad things.

It’s perfectly normal to make mistakes as a parent, nobody really gives you a manual on how to do things...you follow what you think is best.

So, this is how I ended in two church choirs, learning to read music, forced to learn sports or go to sleepovers. I was catholic and taking comunion by the time I was seven. According to the church and sister Leech, I was a child filled with grace and sanctity.

It made me wish to be dead by 18 and a nun by 15. It was insane, I know, but this is how it was.

By age 10 I was always watching my mother work without regarding me much. She shot down every dream I had, and also wanted me to have above 95 average. When I forgot my homework or books she would get very angry, once she hit me over the head with a notebook.

To tell the truth, she still terrifies me to this day.

Yet, she was the only one to console me when I cried, the one to cuddle me even now, the one who worried the most even if it was borderline paranoic. The first one to accept me by my sexual orientation. My mother was the best mother I could ask for.

She would try to get into the things I liked, when she kicked sister Leech from our home, she turned into the loving woman I knew as a child.

Mother Dear is one of the best things to happen to me. It’s a shame really that even having her...I feel lonely, and wishing to die every day. I just can’t tolerate her cry over me...I can’t live knowing I am a burden to her heart. If I was dead, nobody like her would need to keep on worrying and spending so much on my medication.

I want to die because I feel guilty to make her worry.