Big deal; whose mother doesn't?
About three months ago, my mother, angry at me for cleaning the water in my fish tank, hit my head into a wall. It was not the first time that she was angry at me, and it wasn't the last. It was the third fight we had in a week, and in each argument, she cornered me into a small space. I'm very claustrophobic and couldn't handle it when she hit me. I shoved her, and, then, turned away. I could not believe that I had just struck my mother, but I really wanted to hit her hard. She continued to hit me, and she yanked me up by my hair. I am eighteen years old, and I didn't deserve the abuse, but I would NOT hit her.
I told my mother that day that I hated her and I was going to move out. Well, I moved out, and here I am three months later, trying to fix a relationship that I didn't even break. Here I am having the same old disagreements with a woman that I love so much that I hate my feelings for her. Here I am, causing problems by trying to work things out. Here I am, stuck, trying to fix things for my sisters and watching out for them as we all watch my mother fall apart, yet again. Here I am, blaming myself for my mother leaving. She couldn't go stay with her brother in Florida, so she's going to go stay in a mental hospital.
How is it that I am stuck, yet again, blaming myself for something I could do nothing about? Could it be because my mother blames me for something I couldn't control, for my father leaving her? Could it be because she only gets this insanely bad when she's dealing with me? Could it be because I know she is jealous of me and everything that I am? How can I not blame myself when I know that my mother dislikes me so much that I am the only one of her children that she can't stand to get along with?
I don't even know how everything started, except that I was trying to give her a gift. She always tells me that I never want to spend time with her, but that's not true. I went over to her house everyday for the last four days; the first day she wasn't home, and the other three she ended up mad at me, again. Of course, when I tried to fix things, again, we ended up fighting, again.
I told her that I hated her, again, but I took it back, as I have every other time. I didn't just take it back, though, I told her how I really felt. I told her that i hated that I love her and how I care that she doesn't like me. I told her that I hated that I want to make her happy but I can't ever seem to do that. I told her that I hate me. I hate me because I can't make her happy, because I'm not good enough for her, because I care how she feels and doesn't fell about me, because I want so terribly bad for her to be proud of me and happy for the woman I've turned into. I can't stand to hate myself, but I can't even begin to forgive myself for the way I let my relationship with my mother end up. I hate myself for not being able to help my mom, and for not being able to give her the love and support she demands from me. I hate myself for not being able to put her first. I hate myslef for hating myself, and I don't feel worthy of anything right now. I hate myself because I'm the reason my mom is going into a mental hospital, and I hate that my sisters are going to blame me. I hate myself for blaming me.
I don't know how to deal with any of this; I don't even know how to deal with me. THe only comforting thought I have right now is knowing that God put everyone where they are supposed to be, and He will never give anyone more than that person can bear. God is really my only comfort through all of this...besides all of my friends who support me and give me the encouragement that I need so much.