They say, that as you get older you become more wise. I don’t know who “they” are, but I think it has something to do with life experience, not age. I unfortunately, now without the cloud of depression taking up all the space in my head, I am left with more room to notice things that I never have before. Just a quick side note, I love my mother, with all my heart, but what I am about to say, is solely the truth. My mother has been emotionally abusive to me my entire life. I really do love and care for her, but I was never able to set boundaries like my younger siblings have, due to my depression. It, at one point, was almost a sort of co-dependency. Where we both were struggling because of each other, but we couldn’t survive without each other. It is just recently that I have confirmed that I am treated differently than my two younger siblings. I don’t want to put words in her mouth, but it’s almost as if my mother has higher expectations for me. Why? I’m not sure. However, it always seems that if I make the exact same mistake as my younger siblings, I get yelled at for upwards of an hour. I get asked “why” over and over again, until I can’t even think of answers anymore. The prime example, my family shares a data plan for our cell phones. We used the majority of the data rather early this month. However, I was the one who pushed us over our limit, causing us to be charged overage fees. My sister did the exact same thing last month. The difference? My sister agreed to pay the overage fees, and that was the end of that. I agreed to pay the overage fees, and I get lectured and screamed at, belittled, shamed. I just simply don’t understand it. Why there is such a divide between how my siblings and I are treated, for the same mistakes. I think it falls into the category of, “I should know better” Why? Because I’m older? I have tried not to bring this up with my mother, because not only will she deny it, but she will become further enraged, taking it out on me. I haven’t been able to set boundaries with my mother, as the past 20 or so years, I’ve been trying not to kill myself. I never really learned how to set healthy boundaries with people because of my mental illnesses. I’ve tried to talk to my therapist about this, but I think there is a fundamental misunderstanding, as she only keeps telling me I need to set boundaries with my mother. I love my mother, very dearly. As a matter of fact, she is the sole reason that I am alive today. My “fourth” suicide attempt was stopped during the planning phase, as I recognized the signs and sought help. I did this, because I didn’t want to inflict that level of pain on my mother. Otherwise, I would have very much succeeded in my attempt. Yet, there is this constant burden on my shoulders to be mature, and responsible, for my mother’s sake. I’ve had to grow up far faster than I was ready for, solely because my mother deemed it so.
Like I said, it wasn’t until recently that I really confirmed this. Still, I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. It’s either continue to deal with my mother’s harmful actions, or set up an ironclad wall between us. Unfortunately there is no inbetween here. I’ve told her that though my depression is in remission, I am still struggling to adjust to life. Yet, it seems as though she doesn’t take this into account. She simply expects more of me, and I can’t deliver. It really pains me to say this, but I think I just need a clean break from her. Move out on my own and cease contact. Basically what I have with my father, who I deplore, I have to integrate with my mother. Not because I don’t care for her, but because she is still so detrimental to my mental health. The fact that I have more space in my head to process these thoughts is unsettling. Before, I would just give in to her abuse, because I believed it. But now that I am trying my hardest to create a stable life for myself, it’s just something that I can’t accept. That is the cost of wisdom my friends. You can read between the lines, but it is certainly not pleasant. From my mind to yours, Alan Wolfgang, signing off