So, my mother posted an image on my facebook wall that went along the lines of, “We need to teach our daughters the difference between a man that controls you, and a man that looks out for her best interests, etc. etc.” It went on for several lines of teaching daughters the difference between this and that. Aside from the multitude of social issues the image presents, my response to the image was, “How about I just focus on my career and not put my self-worth into another human being. How about I measure my life and worth in accomplishments? Problem solved.”
She retorted with how much I hurt her and that I need to stop being so negative. I’m apparently such a controlling and abusive daughter by saying that and that I need to go to counseling. Now, if my statement was, in fact, what she says, please feel free to point it out. I don’t think it was but I’m willing to accept that I could be wrong. As I sat there rereading the image and rereading the argument, I realized. All of the things that are fucked up with me, both mentally and physically, …all of those issues originate from her. All the times I’ve ever considered killing myself as a child, were from, predominantly her, and my father. And as i’m having this revelation, I delete the photo from my timeline because I found it inappropriate and hurtful. I identify as demi-sexual so the odds of me actually finding someone to settle down with are slim to none, anyway. Problem solved again. My mother messaged me with the same argument of how I was hurting her by taking the image down when she was just trying to teach me a lesson and blah blah blah. My repeated response, at least mentally, is, “What in the actual fuck?” Excuse my language. Where I once felt sympathy for all of the shit my father put her through, turned to anger at all of the manipulation she put on my father to make him act like an asshole. I was just too young to understand and see it.
Not that it really matters or will solve anything, I’m sitting here crying and grieving over a childhood lost…and I wonder what my hopes and dreams would have been if I hadn’t been manipulated into what I am now. I wonder who I would have been if I had different, not mentally unstable parents. I often described myself as being a shell without a driver. I’ve always felt like my soul had died and was ready to move on since toddler years but my body just never received the message. I’ve always just felt..dead and now it feels like it more, now, than ever. I’ve never wanted children and that feeling is so much stronger now than it ever was. Because, though I can understand, see and reflect how my mother manipulated me and keep myself from making those mistakes, I never want to treat a child like my mother treated me. Parents always damage their kids to some extent, but my mother murdered me and got away with keeping the body.