Fuck.

My mother. Let’s talk.

She is irrational. She lets her feeling and emotions lead her judgements and actions. She is so overwhelmed with feelings that she fails to incorporate even a small portion of reason into her mind. 

She feels that she is perfect. She feels that everything ‘going wrong’ in her life is due to the actions of the people around her, that she had to control over anything. She feels like she had an amazing amount of potential, but that it was wasted because of other people. Nothing is her fault. 

She takes every opportunity to remind everyone of this. Every single argument, every slight disagreement that could have easily been discussed calmly and worked out…every one escalates into an emotional fit of tears. It’s the same every time. I stand there, attempting to get her to calm down, stating my points and defending them with evidence and reasons. She stands opposite me, ignoring everything I say with long-winded bouts of sobs about how much she loves us, how ungrateful we are for ‘everything she’s endured for us’. These inevitably pave the way for the inescapable rant about my father. She feels abused. She feels unhappy. All these years of being ‘selfless’ (which includes hundreds of dollars of shopping sprees, expensive dinners, pampering, and nights out with her friends).

I understand that she feels abused. I agree that my father was not the best husband. But she was not the best wife. She demanded things that no one could give her. She needed to feel appreciated at all times in outwardly ways. She needed constant reinforcement of affection. These were things that my father, nor my brother, and nor I could give her. We are introverts. Her needs were not in our capabilities.

I cannot wait to move out.

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