I like to think that I’m pretty open on my blog here. I mean the motto is, thoughts straight from my mind. So I don’t really like to edit, or even “script” out my posts before I write them, like I used to. I simply start a new post and let my fingers do their work. Once I’m done I don’t even really read over it, I just post it. It’s only once it’s been up for a while that I’ll go back and read it, just to make sure that it’s understandable.

I’m rather proud that my mother reads my blog on occassion, and you all know that I love my mother very deeply. Well, like all things there are at least two sides to each story. While I do honestly love my mother, I have some issues with how she treated me, and still treats me. I often feel like she always compares her pain to mine, and devalue my pain, as hers is far greater. I’ve brought this up to her once or twice, and she doesn’t really take me at face value. She will probably read this, and get rather upset. Even though when my siblings and I compare each other, she says we shouldn’t compare. I’ve brought these issues up with my therapist too, and she’s recommended that I have a heart to heart with my mother, let her know how I feel. I kind of chuckle, because I’ve tried this several times. Every time I do, I either lose my temper, immediately invalidating everything I say. Or she doesn’t like where the conversation is going and she walks away.

I know this will hurt her feelings, but I view my mother as a master manipulator. She does it so effortlessly, that she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. For example, today I was supposed to clean the main bathroom in the house. Instead, I take a nap, as Sundays are the only day I have off from work. She goes and cleans the entire kitchen while I’m napping. She then later, when I wake up, is relaxing on her bed. She then asks if I’m going to clean the bathroom today, and I tell her probably not. She then goes on to tell me how she cleaned the entire kitchen, while I just laid in bed. I can’t really illustrate her tone of voice in writing either, but it was very condescending. I immediately feel guilty about taking a day for self care. I think that I have an inferiority complex, due to how I was treated as a child. Nothing I ever did was good enough. Nothing I do now is ever good enough either. My mother has rather high standards, as she worked very hard to get where she is. She then also holds me to the same standards, expecting me to work as hard in my own life. The problems I have with that, are that I’ve never really put effort into myself before now. There is something that sticks with me after all these years. When I would bring my report card home from school, it was rather unimpressive, always. My mother would ask me, “Did you try your hardest?” And I would always respond, “No.” As it turns out, I was highly intelligent, but had undiagnosed Executive Function Disorder, which is in the ADD family. So needless to say, I struggled, and still do, in school. I also was beginning to drown in depression, without even realizing it. So these standards that my mother set, seemed reasonable to her, but seemed impossibly high to me. I’ve tried to explain this to her, but she just won’t believe me.

It also doesn’t help that both my parents called me lazy for most of my childhood. I wouldn’t do chores, I would cut corners, I wouldn’t do homework, I would mostly play video games, because that’s what I enjoyed. I also developed my sleeping problems pretty early on. I wasn’t lazy, I just had no motivation or energy. That was my depression taking root. I think that particularly due to my mother that I feel like I’m never good enough. I want to reiterate that I love her, very much. She has treated me very well, most of the time. But no one is perfect, and despite her best efforts, my mother has caused some mental health issues, that have stuck with me. I’m not saying it was entirely her fault either. I was horribly bullied as a child, and was shy and anxious. So I think everything that happened in my childhood was the reason that I have so many issues with my mental health. Depression has also decimated my self-esteem, my hygiene, my motivation, my hopes, my dreams, among many other things. No one but me is at fault for the way my brain turned out, if you simplify things. Now that I’m not depressed anymore, these things that it took from me, have not recovered. I have to work on these remaining issues if I want to completely be free from depression’s grasp. That’s what therapy is for my friends, wish me the best of luck! From my mind to yours, Alan Wolfgang, signing off.