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June 09, 2005 I'm worried about you. I don't know what else to do. I can't keep being your crutch because I think it's making you worse. Now, when all else fails, you just lean on me, or better yet, you beat me to a bloody pulp with your words. Words that you know will strike at my heart and make me feel like the lowest life form on earth. I am not perfect, but trust me, neither are you. I am tired of being made to feel worthless. I know you don't mean it, but it still hurts. The comments about how I don't love you and about how I would be happier if you were gone, you know it's bullshit. I see what you are doing. You know how to manipulate me, you always have. I can't keep letting you. I love you Mom, but I don't love what you are doing to me. I can't be everything to everyone, and I am only now beginning to realize that. I have to be everything to *me*. It's not to say that I don't care, because, Mom, I do care. Maybe I care too much. I've let you use me, and I can't anymore. You need help and I can't give it to you. I can't take the weight of your problems on my shoulders because I have enough on them as it is. I'm almost 21 and I can't live here forever. Ah, but I can't move out either because I have once again lent you money. Over $10000. My college fund. Oh no, but I am a bad daughter and I don't love you. It doesn't matter that I work over forty hours a week, go to school, keep my apartment up, take care of my dogs, it doesn't matter because I just don't help you enough. You have a husband, that's what he is supposed to do. No? Oh right, he's only the one you go out to eat with almost every day, he's the one you go to movies with, he's the one you "hang" with. Me, I just don't help enough. The kicker, I still feel guilty about it. I feel guilty that I spent an entire week cleaning your kitchen while you were on vacation. I feel guilty that I spent every waking moment on it. I feel guilty that two weeks after you got home, it was back to the disaster it was before. You wonder why I don't like to help you with the little free time I have. It's never enough. I won't waste the time I have on something you won't appreciate, on something that won't even help. 'You're young,' you say, 'you should have all this energy.' Do you realize that I rarely sit down at work, that I run from the second I hit the door. Do you realize that I have gone over a week without laying eyes on my horse because I was so tired all I wanted to do was get home and go to bed. Do you realize that sometimes it's all I can do to fix something to eat before I crash. I know you have a heart problem, but it's of your own making. Even now, knowing what you are doing to your body, you won't lose the weight, you won't eat right. I am going to find you dead one day. Do you know how much that scares me? Do you? I don't get to stay home all day and take naps. While you may have energy aplenty at nine o'clock at night, I don't. I have worked my ass off all day. I am tired of fighting with you, and I am tired of you always twisting everything to make me the bad guy. I am doing the best I can. Stop picking fights with me, I don't have the heart to fight back. I just crawl into the little corner of my mind and curl up in a ball. I am not a bad daughter, I just can't deal with the bullshit anymore. I can't keep being the mother in our relationship. I can't be the voice of reason that has to take you by the hand and explain why you can't spend the mortgage money at walmart. You are 46 years old, you need to grow up. It you threaten suicide to me one more time, I swear I will call a mental institution and have you in there in two seconds. I will not have you use your life as a bargaining chip to manipulate me. I also have no problem telling someone how often you are taking xanax or pain pills. Did you know it took me five minutes to get you to wake up yesterday. No, you don't know do you, because you were so doped up on meds that you don't even fucking remember. I promise Mom, it ends here. I will not go down this road. I won't become one of those people that go broke or crazy because they are trying so hard to take care of their parents. I won't. I love you with all my heart, Mom, I really do. You are a great person and you have been a great mother to me. I don't want you to think differently. You are depressed now, and not yourself, and I refuse to let you drag me down with you. Been there, done that, never again. I will do my best to help you, but I won't go down with you. Love <-//->
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