Overcome parent abuse (or just fucked up parenting)
How I made peace with mum
Mom,
Oh, how I wish I could send you this letter. And how I wish you could understand what I have to say. But I know that will never happen. I’ve tried time and time again to help you understand me. I took your hand and walk you through the most painful parts of my mind and it seemed like you understood me and I felt relief, joy. But a day later, or a week later, you seemed to have vanished that understanding from your speech. You did remember, but you did not understand anymore.
I tried again and again, we took different paths, and looked at every part that I wanted to show you from every possible perspective, and it feels like it’s in vain. After every painful tour, you would end up using what you had just learned to hurt me. To reproach. I opened up, I showed the truly most vulnerable parts and you betrayed that vulnerability. And then reproached I was not vulnerable.
You talk contradictions, you say I should do less because then I get anxious. You have spent a lifetime talking trash about those not making sufficient effort. You question my value when I’m doing less or little. You can’t stand me on the sofa. I’ve never been able to let the sofa swallow me, I feared you would come and ask me why wasn’t I doing something. There has never…
