“So how are things with your mother?”

So as my high school friends are all coming back into town for the vacations and meeting me and catching up, this question inevitably comes up. “So how are things with your mother? Are things better between you guys?” and I always just give ambiguous answers or say that I don’t want to talk about it. Truth is, I’m not sure myself.

Warning – Most of my recent posts have been relatively happy and sorted but this one probably isn’t going to be either of those things. Also, idk trigger warning for depression and stuff I guess? Like this post is sad and whiny and terrible. I’m sorry I just need to vent.

Moving on.

Somehow, my mother can make me hate myself the way no one else can. I just feel like the worst most terrible person ever. It seems like everything I do is somehow not good enough. And then she says things like I don’t care about her or that I have no idea how busy/stressed she is with work.

And honestly, maybe that hurts the most because I do know how stressed she is. Hell, I’ve known since like 7th grade or maybe even earlier. Why do you think I never tell her anything? I just don’t want to stress her out or upset her more. See the thing is, mom takes care of the paying for things and taking care of official things whereas I take care of home things and take care of my sister. So if she finds out that I’m fucked up, it’ll mess up our arrangement cuz she’ll have to worry about me then and she just doesn’t need that.

Anyway, since I’ve been home, the panic attacks have reduced a little, probably because I’m familiar with this space. But on the other hand, the depression stuff has increased so much. But I’m not surprised, this happens every time. Somehow, when you feel like killing yourself and your mother is screaming at you to put the shoes in or about why you can’t cover the bed, it makes you feel worse. Surprising, isn’t’ it? But also being told things about how much you are like your father is even worse. I don’t understand my mother sometimes. She knows I hate him and how much it hurts me when she compares me to him but she still does it. I don’t understand.

Maybe I did fuck up sometime without realizing it and that is why things are how they are. Maybe I am a terrible person idk (who am i kidding i know i am). My mother has actually told me that the reason her last relationship didn’t work was because of me. She’s said how I always mess things up and how I’m ruining her life. She’s told me that I don’t care.

And so I genuinely think that sometimes I’ll shut up. Just not say or do anything except things she wants me to do. But I can’t do that either because that upsets mom also. If I don’t talk much then she asks why I’m upset and being so ungrateful. Hell, I’m not even allowed to be sad or cry in my house! If I’m ever crying and my mom sees me crying then she needs to know why and she just tells me to stop. like what!? And what’s more is that often she says extremely hurtful things and if I cry at that then she just says stuff like why are you crying. Like I don’t understand? Didn’t you just hear what you said!??

I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this but when I’m around her, I feel like dying more than I usually do. Cuz like usually it’s at a manageable level, around her it’s worse. And the cutting (which I haven’t done in like a month are you proud of me yet) urges get worse too. Ugh i’m sorry.

See my mother does love me. I just think she doesn’t know how to deal with her life. And I’m tired of it cuz I’ve had enough shitty stuff from family and just ugh I want to just run away. Honestly can’t wait for college to start again so I can go back to somewhere I feeling okay is little easier.

anyway so I don’t know if things are better with my mom but things are definitely better because I get to stay away from her for a considerable part of the year even though I have to come home for the weekends.

Okay done ranting, sorry this is so crappy and pathetic but I needed to do this. Also sorry that it’s not even like well written ugh like ???

k sorry bye

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Hiding places

“I’m good at hiding”, I say almost proudly.

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing”, K replies.

That’s the first time anyone’s ever told me that and I don’t know what to think.

Or I don’t know maybe I’ve heard it before but people always just tend to ask why I’m hiding. But something about hearing this in that particular context hit me very hard.

You see, I have a lot of good hiding places. The bridge, the roof, second floor of the academic block, 4th floor of the admin building, next to the corner room on the first floor and many others. I’ve gotten used to this. Running and hiding. Every time I panic, I hide. I’m not always able to if it gets really bad really fast but I try.

Panic makes you vulnerable. I can’t control the things I say and I can’t control my breathing and I don’t want people to see my like that. So I hide. I don’t know if I should or not but I’m so used to it. Been hiding so much for so many years, I almost don’t know how to not hide. Hiding my depression from my family, hiding my sexuality from them too. Hiding the severity of the abuse I went through, making jokes about it to deflect. Hiding the scars with makeup. I’m good at hiding. I have practice at this.

I don’t let myself think about how much hiding hurts though. How sometimes I don’t want to hide, just want to be found (wow how fucking dramatic am I!?).

oh fuck i don’t know what i was thinking anymore i got lost in my thoughts so yeah this is it i guess. and i guess the answer to why i hide is simple. it’s easy. hiding is so fucking easy and it’s easier (and harder maybe?) when people don’t even figure that you’re hiding.