hellhasnofurylikeahungrywoman ·
05/06/2013 18:25
She doesn't have to love me, liking me would do.
I am sick to death of all her barb remarks towards me.
I am sick of not being good enough. I may not be religious but I lead a good life. I don't go out of my way to hurt people, I don't stamp on kittens, I don't pull the legs off flies, heck I even give spiders their own space. I work hard and I work long hours. I know I don't own my own home but living in social housing does not make me a lesser person and it does not mean she can't visit my house, especially if you live in EX-local authority housing as does my sibling who lives five miles away who gets regular visits from mum. Hell, she even stays overnight.
I know she had a nervous breakdown when I was born and I know she blames me for that but I was a baby. A tiny, drug dependant baby. It was my grandfather's fault and I cannot help the fact that I have his colouring and that I look like him. I didn't sexually abuse my mother, HE did.
I suspect that others will think I am a bad person for not cutting her more slack but I am sick of the comments and the nastiness. She can be lovely but then the black mist descends on her again and I cop it all. My siblings are good. I am bad (her words, not mine). I know it is the the illness but it still hurts.