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This is a bit of a sensitive topic but I wanted to get it off my chest.
My mother and I don't have the best relationship out there, kinda close to hitting rock bottom. I have done some questionable things in life but her reaction was way worse than anything. I wouldn't even write this if I didn't just talk to her and god how much I want to move out or cut her from my life. That sound ungrateful, right? Yeah, yeah it is. I hardly remember a good moment of us. It hurts, you know. All of my friends have a great relationship with their mothers. Or that is what appears to the public.
The relationship between my mother and I do not build on trust and love, but fear, tension and sometimes hate.
The relationship took a turn when I was thirteen, the true side started to appear then. From my mother side, it was always visible, she gave the aurora of being respected and also to be feared cover that up with some humour and severe anger issues. My mother didn't have a problem challenging anyone. Her tone spoke 'should be respected'. She is a responsible person, doesn't let her right be taken away. She is strong, honestly. I have to give her credit for that. But there is darkness in everything.
I will try to be organised this time.
• She can be very difficult to talk to. There isn't a way around with my mom, she keeps her head on something and can be hard to even make her change her mind. One time I was tired and I wanted to skip the lesson cause I knew that I wouldn't even get anything from the teacher if I went. I called her to tell her, she said I was being dramatic and that I will go. She said that if I hadn't been on the phone I would have studied and got some sleep, the night before I slept eleven freaking hours, how the freak fracks ahhhh. When I got back she asked did I get humiliated or not, she saw my embarrassment and discomfort as something funny.
This is bad.
Rewrite.
Mother.
I have always wanted to be like the other kids and have a good relationship with my mother, tell her my secrets and fall into her arms when I feel some danger.
What happened was the quite opposite actually. My mother's and I's relationship had been always at its bottom, I was too naive and young. Little me always wondered why my mother would never come to parents' meetings in school, never said happy birthday unless I reminded her, she never hugs me, and when I try to hug her she moves backwards or brushes me off. She never sits with me to hear me out, if I had a problem I would have to go tell her that I do... And I always end up the one to blame. Telling her a secret would mean I either have to shut up or get grounded because of that secret. I would weekly get beaten... And it still happens. But the difference was young me thought what I did was wrong and I had to be punished. Thirteen years old me wouldn't have cared, but now I canning not handle it anymore. I have to get mentally prepared to talk to her about something. I would sometimes not want to go home because she is what is supposed to be my home. She never care about things I like, she made fun of my hobbies. When I asked about going to the doctor for my mental health she didn't care, she said it was a phase... Even if it was a phase, it was affecting me to the point that I couldn't study. My achievements don't seem to amuse her anymore, always pressuring me, saying I'm not enough, I'm doing it right, I shouldn't rest. If my cousins can do it and still have free time then I should too. My cousins didn't have a sudden change of mental health, they have routines, I can not follow them. From all the pressure of wanting me to do a lot of things, to controlling my health. I started to lose my appetite, I don't want to eat cause of the time I could use to study. I feel exhausted all the time... And I'm still not doing acceptable work. I'm not doing enough so I have to get beaten, I'm not doing enough so I have to cut my sleep to do a reasonable amount if I don't want my father to deal with me. Her presence used to be everything wanted, now I can not do anything if she is close to me. I used to have a rule to never show how much I'm suffering, never open up about her, cause all I would get is that I'm being ungrateful. Now, I'm having a hard time holding my tears. I'm always afraid of her, I'm afraid that she would get up and beat me, shout or yell at me. I'm afraid that I would do something that would make her mad, that she would cut off my life supplies, she keeps threatening that she would get me out of school, that she would leave the house, that she would leave me with my dad. I don't want to. Death seems the best thing now. I don't want to tell her a secret, I can not. I know I can be ungrateful but I'm always living in fear.
If I'm ungrateful then I swear that I would change, I would do my best. But I can't take it anymore.
