About a year ago, I moved four hours away to live with my boyfriend and work. While this is considered normal in many family circles once a child reaches their 20s, you might as well have told my very much not-so DM that the world was ending.
Every day is a constant battle. We must be in contact all day, EVERY HOUR. Yes, I receive text messages from her every hour at work. Should I not reply, there's a massive fuss where she thinks I've been raped/murdered/kidnapped before she sulks when I tell her I've been working. If I don't reply for a few hours, I get bombarded with 'Are you okay?!! Call me!!!1!' No I am not 12, I am 24 years old.
Then there's the endless comments about where I live. Living in a major UK city, she is constantly glued to the local newspaper and follows relevant location-specific social media accounts for the police, etc. I regularly get sent links to news articles on burglaries, sexual assaults, thefts, etc in the area. 'Don't walk to the train station alone!!!' she says... I live 5 minutes away from it on a constantly populated road. She went ballistic on me when she found out I walk there at least twice a day to get to work and wouldn't speak to me for 3 days.
I also never visit home enough apparently, yet I am literally there every month at huge travel expense to myself. No other friends my age visit their parents half as much as I do. Everytime I leave I am met with bawling and a massive toddler-style tantrum as she cries dramatically through her slammed-shut bedroom door. I feel like I have done enough parenting to last me a life time and I have never given birth.
DM has no job, and god forbid she should find a hobby or actually spend time with my DF (who recognises she is insane, and, at this point, they kind of just ignore each other anyway). Yes, in case you hadn't guessed, I am indeed an only child. 'What am I meant to do all summer long' is her latest moaning refrain. Everything I suggest is met with sneers or criticism or a long drawn-out list of reasons as to why it's a terrible suggestion and I am WRONG. Because the moral of this sorry story is that I am always WRONG.
Sorry about the v long rant, I am just v tired and worn down and depressed about it all. Does anyone have any advice or has found themselves in a similar scenario? Can any mothers themselves possibly shed insight into this insanity? 