• “Thanks Mom”. A letter from my 14 year old self.

    by  • March 6, 2017 • * Safe for Work *, Abuse • 0 Comments

    — A message to my mother from my 14 year old self, describing the events that have occurred while of living with my mother.
    Am currently struggling with severe BPD.
    Wishing the best of luck to those who are going through/have gone through what I have. It is damaging.

    *trigger warning*

    “Thanks Mom”.

    I can’t tell whether or not I’m actually sorry for what you put me through. I know I’m an asshole, I complain and I act like everything negative I’m feeling is all your fault, but it is. You ruined me for trying to be myself. Apparently it’s the most awful thing in the world to be a “pretty girl” yet still dress occasionally non-feminine clothes or wear black. You wouldn’t even sit with me and talk about. You screamed at me, grabbed things from my closet and rid my bedroom of any clothing you didn’t approve of. Do you even actually care if I’m happy with myself? It seems like all you care about is you’ll seem like a bad mom for letting me dress and wear my hair how I want. Any time I ever ask to get a new shirt or something you say “I don’t like that” or “I don’t agree with this” or “i think it’s ugly” ITS ALWAYS JUST “I”!! You never consider me!! You act like I’m supposed to reflect you as a person somehow! I feel insanely pressured to dress in typical clothes, talk about boys and make up, etc. BECAUSE SOMETHINGS WRONG WITH ME IF I DONT. You told me I would be a failure in life and that no one would ever want to let their kids hang around me, yet I simply asked for a slightly rebellious shirt or listened to rock music. I tried for over a year to be someone I’m not— and it didn’t end well. I’m so confused. I am a mess. Sometimes, I would cut. When you found out you laughed a little at me and said I was stupid. I know you were worried, but is laughing at me a way to show it? You said there was something wrong with me and I needed a therapist and I needed “fixing” so I wouldn’t want to do these things. You say I hang out with the wrong people and they made me want to hurt myself, or think it’s “cool”. You always tell me how you’re trying to change me for the better but if anything I’m jut messed up.

    I felt like I had no fight. Instead of being “me”, I “substituted” much of what i liked in order to be someone else. I got most of my happiness from then on through how much weight I lost, how many people flirted with or complimented me, or how many commented on my sex appeal. I exercised all the time and stopped eating. I cried each night because I hated what I looked like, because I wasn’t thin enough, or because I had any slight acne. Sometimes I didn’t even recognize the person I saw in the mirror. occasionally, I cut because of it. I tried to tell you about the fact I felt this way once, and you got angry and yelled at me for blaming you for everything. You said I was being stupid and all my “problems” caused this “family” so much distress. You complained that I was annoying and said you “weren’t going to deal with my ‘mental disorder’.”

    You made me feel like a disgusting person because I’m gay. You talked about how gay men started the spread of “HIV” (bullshit) and that it’s unnatural and wrong to like someone of the same sex. I once told you one of my friends was bisexual and she wanted to sleep over at my house— as friends. You wouldn’t leave us in the same room for more than 5 minutes alone. I hadn’t seen her in months. You even freaked out when we hugged before she left. Afterwards you proceeded to tell me I was no longer allowed to hang put with her because you disliked her short hair, taste of music, and her sexual orientation. You said bisexuality was “crap” and she was an awful person to be around. You didn’t even know her. You do this with all my other friends, too, if they aren’t “ideal”. I have cried myself to sleep so many times because of the sexual orientations of my friends and myself. I’m disgusted. I don’t want to live my life like this. i want to like boys.

    Many times I have tried to tell you about how I’m upset. You fucked me up. You have said you would try and get me help, but despite my cries and pleas eventually resort to thinking it’s just some “teenage thing” and I’m just fine. But you don’t let me explain myself and you don’t understand. You tell me you love me, after all of this, and that you want only the best for me and I can talk to you about anything, but I can’t tell you anything. I can’t trust you will keep what I tell you personal or that you won’t yell at me about it or fight. I have tried to tell you this so many times but you won’t listen!!! Even now you still tell me how awful I am and refuse to take the blame for anything. You act like I’m completely normal and that everyone has their “problems” and that my stress and depression has nothing to do with anything you have caused. Just PLEASE listen to me!

    My little sister is turning out the same way as me and I’m afraid things will get worse. She isn’t eating now. She is showing some of the same “symptoms” I have been. She cries like I do because she feels alone…like no one understands. I don’t know how to help her. I can’t even help myself. I lash out at her sometimes, without meaning to as well because I can’t handle her problems on top of mine. I feel awful about it. If she gets hurt I’m going to end up blaming myself. Thankfully she is smarter than me in some ways, and has been able to convince you of things I couldn’t. I hope this helps both me and her. At night sometimes I talk to her and I have learned more than I thought I knew. You are threatening now not to let her dress in her graphic tees and get her bangs cut. I know it’s stupid, but you are taking away a piece of her just like you took of me.

    You blame me for causing you all kinds of stress and anxiety. I feel terrible about it because I know it’s my fault, but I can’t control myself sometimes. I shout at you about every little thing. I freak out if I feel threatened or at risk or losing something just slightly by anyone. I burst into tears for seemingly no reason. I don’t talk to you much, and when I do, I only argue because that it what all our conversations turn into. You claim my reactions to things are emotionally abusive to you and my family all the time. You always tell me how many problems I cause and how I should give you a break because you work so hard. I know make your life so much harder. It would be easier if I was never born. One time you agreed with me when I said this (at least it was only once) but you apologized right after while claiming it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously and you were just trying to brighten the mood. During a fight? I don’t think so. You tell me how great my life is and that there are so many other kids who have it much worse than me. I understand that you get mad sometimes and say things you don’t mean…

    Bet you didn’t know I had a girlfriend, huh? Well, I did. The girl you hated for being bi dated me for quite some time. The real reason I liked her so much is because she’s the only one who understands what you put me through. She didn’t have an easy past. She encouraged me to be strong and reassured me of my conceptions that everything that was happening wasn’t my fault. She helped me learn to accept myself and be more accepting of other people, although much of me still has ways to go with being comfortable in my own skin. When you saw those sexual texts you automatically assumed it was all her fault. She has “influenced” me to think I liked girls or something, according to you, and I was straight, and liked boys. You claimed she was a “predator”, and was “using” me for sex. You then asked if she ever touched me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable, or tried to kiss me, or something like that. That was my breaking point, since she had never done ANYTHING like that, and never would have. I cried. You yelled at me. You didn’t listen when I tried to explain what actually happened. You said if I was gay none of my friends would want to hang out with me. They would all think I was weird. So as far as you should be concerned I still like boys. STOP asking and leave me alone.

    I told her what happened. Both of us were extremely upset since we would probably never get to see each other again. I asked you not to bring her up as a topic anymore, yet you still do. I miss her more than I’ve ever missed a person. She’s one of the few reasons I have’t killed myself yet. Her and my best friends, who accept me just as I am, are all I have, although I tend to isolate myself from them and get angry at them and assume they hate me over little things or for no reason at all. I wish you would just understand this and stop acting like I don’t know what I’m talking about. Now we’re stuck talking through text and it’s not the same. we can’t even call on the phone. it’s been a year and we still are making it.

    When I call my friends, we hear yelling in the background almost all the time. It has become a typical thing and my friends are just plain used to hearing it. When I bring it up, you don’t take it seriously. You claim our family is normal and healthy but I fear the safety of my sister and I, as well as your own. I used to frequently apologize to them for the fighting, but I no longer need to because it is such a usual thing.

    Mom, you’re not all bad. You encourage me to be my best and these are the times I feel most awful. Truthfully, I am writing this in order to see things as they are, rather than all good or all bad, because I jump between the two frequently. I am a horrible daughter, if what you say about me is true. You care about my well-being, but you are forceful about it, rather than sensitive and caring. You want the best for me, don’t think I don’t see that. But you must understand I am not the person you want me to bad, rather, the person I just happen to be. I can’t change myself and I can’t change you. You think I am ignorant on topics like these, but I am quite informed on a lot of the things you think I know nothing about. I can’t tell you this, though, mom. You wouldn’t understand.

    I hate being alive and I feel so empty and confused all the time. You do have your good qualities, but I have a hard time focusing on both at the same time. I wish you would just take me seriously. You say you can do whatever you want because “I’m your daughter” and “you’re the adult”. Or, “I’m the minor” and “You have authority” and I need to respect anyone who has authority over me.

    I could go on and on. i’m just done . I don’t know what to believe anymore. It’s like I’m going crazy sometimes. I am my own person and I should not feel obligated to tell you things. You would sometimes punish me when I wouldn’t tell you something personal, even if it wasn’t even one of my own concerns, rather a friend’s. It’s so embarrassing and then you claim it’s because you’re upset that I never tell you anything. Why should I tell you anything after this? Why am I still living in this household with you? I continue to cut myself. anything to get away.

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