bluepaintcan123
06-26-2017, 11:30 AM
This is a long one, but I need some feedback on these situations.
Our relationship feels unnaturally terrible, to a point where I need to think hard to remember the last time we've gotten along well. It doesn't help that she isn't very good at listening, so I never confide in her.
Whenever she speaks to me she has a clearly bitter tone, as if she was tired of me. She expects no response, just action, and if I try to say anything she starts to get upset (she doesn't even have to know what I was going to say.)
Recently we've had an incident where I first started to feel she hated me.
A day or two before the incident she got upset at us not making food for her when she got home late. In my defense, we always have food ready in the fridge that lasts for a while, so I didn't think we needed to cook anything if she already did it in advance. In addition, I don't know anything about cooking. My sister can make rice (and she did that time), but that's it.
Fast forward, and my mom is home late again from an appointment. I take out the lettuce and start cutting, but then she interrupts me. She starts complaining that I didn't make it for all of them, and in response I tell her that I just took out the lettuce, so how could she have known how much I would make. I didn't think it was that big of a deal, all she had to do was ask me to make more and that could have been the end of it.
We continue to argue and I get really worked up. I end up saying "it would be a lot easier to do things for you if you were pleasant to be around!" I shut up soon after when she rolls her eyes and I leave the room. I try to give her the salad I made but she firmly rejects it several times. I say "You don't even let me try to fix things" and go to take a bath.
Of course, when I exited I left my food, and she gets mad at me again because she doesn't want me wasting food over being such an ill-mannered child.
After this happened I avoid looking her in the eye and try not to initiate any conversations if i don't have to. I even reorganized my entire closet over an earlier issue (my mom moved my clothes because the drawers wouldn't open right, and so her clothes are there now. I thought that if I switched them back maybe she would hate me less, but nothing has changed so far.)
I never thought for a second that I was a good child (not at all), but I used to think that at least I was better than some.
`````````````````````````````````````````````````` `````
She has tried to tell me that she cares about me, but I feel as though it isn't the way she makes it out to be. (Get ready for my crazy conspiracy theory.)
I think she used to really love me, there is no doubt in my mind. I started off my life in the loving embrace of my mother, but as I grew I started to change. I began to go through different phases, and when I didn't let them go she began to long for what I used to be. The "new" me was not humble, innocent or naive. She was just as stubborn as her mother, and to top it all of she didn't want her mother babying her. I think she took this as a personal offense, and if not that then my "edgy" beliefs (my Atheism, probably.)
She tried to bring back "her daughter", but she has started to give up. Now she is left with this new and intolerable version of her, waiting in vain left with nothing but the memories of a young and happy mother and what used to be her daughter.
`````````````````````````````````````````````````` `````
Let me present some of my evidence:
For a while I suspected that I had depression and anxiety, which was confirmed by my psychotherapist of five years and a psychiatrist. When I first introduced the idea to my mom she looked me in the eye and dismissed it outright, saying "You don't have depression."
She went on to talk about the things she had to deal with before she came to America, hinting that she dealt with worse things that I did and didn't have depression, so I should have it. I was really upset with her, but she ended up backtracking and making up an excuse for bringing that up out of nowhere.
Even when we officially went to the psychiatrist she was still trying to put doubts in my mind. She told me that if I just went outside more and hung out with my friends then I wouldn't need medication. I have tried to tell her many times that it isn't about having fun with friends, its about being unsatisfied with my whole situation (I felt that most of my friends didn't really care about me so being around them would be useless, almost detrimental to healing.) I needed help so that I wouldn't be afraid of approaching new people and slowly fixing my situation, but she insisted that medication wasn't the solution.
"You know, medication isn't going to solve all your problems."
"And going outside suddenly will!? I know medication isn't going to fix everything-that isn't the point! The point is that I am terrified of going out there and changing things and I need help in order to take those steps. I've already tried "hanging out", joining clubs and socializing. It isn't enough! I'm still miserable. I'm trying to reach out and get help so I can control this."
She said that it was my decision, but I could tell she wasn't happy with it.
In the past when I showed clear signs like never smiling, never looking people in the eye, hardly going outside, etc., she said it was just that "teenage phase" stuff.
I think she just didn't want to accept that my depression and anxiety would be permanent residents in my life.
Another piece of evidence:
She told me "I want my [my name] back."
It hurts me every time I think about it. It isn't about trying to support who I am right now, its about trying to bring back her memories of a better me. It really makes me realize how I've let her down as a mother and ended up becoming someone undesirable.
Conclusion:
I feel like every relationship I have can be summarized with this quote:
"You didn't know me. Then you fell in love with me. And now you know me." -Bojack Horseman
If there are more unseen problems with me that I just didn't notice, then I think I may never have another close relationship again.
Our relationship feels unnaturally terrible, to a point where I need to think hard to remember the last time we've gotten along well. It doesn't help that she isn't very good at listening, so I never confide in her.
Whenever she speaks to me she has a clearly bitter tone, as if she was tired of me. She expects no response, just action, and if I try to say anything she starts to get upset (she doesn't even have to know what I was going to say.)
Recently we've had an incident where I first started to feel she hated me.
A day or two before the incident she got upset at us not making food for her when she got home late. In my defense, we always have food ready in the fridge that lasts for a while, so I didn't think we needed to cook anything if she already did it in advance. In addition, I don't know anything about cooking. My sister can make rice (and she did that time), but that's it.
Fast forward, and my mom is home late again from an appointment. I take out the lettuce and start cutting, but then she interrupts me. She starts complaining that I didn't make it for all of them, and in response I tell her that I just took out the lettuce, so how could she have known how much I would make. I didn't think it was that big of a deal, all she had to do was ask me to make more and that could have been the end of it.
We continue to argue and I get really worked up. I end up saying "it would be a lot easier to do things for you if you were pleasant to be around!" I shut up soon after when she rolls her eyes and I leave the room. I try to give her the salad I made but she firmly rejects it several times. I say "You don't even let me try to fix things" and go to take a bath.
Of course, when I exited I left my food, and she gets mad at me again because she doesn't want me wasting food over being such an ill-mannered child.
After this happened I avoid looking her in the eye and try not to initiate any conversations if i don't have to. I even reorganized my entire closet over an earlier issue (my mom moved my clothes because the drawers wouldn't open right, and so her clothes are there now. I thought that if I switched them back maybe she would hate me less, but nothing has changed so far.)
I never thought for a second that I was a good child (not at all), but I used to think that at least I was better than some.
`````````````````````````````````````````````````` `````
She has tried to tell me that she cares about me, but I feel as though it isn't the way she makes it out to be. (Get ready for my crazy conspiracy theory.)
I think she used to really love me, there is no doubt in my mind. I started off my life in the loving embrace of my mother, but as I grew I started to change. I began to go through different phases, and when I didn't let them go she began to long for what I used to be. The "new" me was not humble, innocent or naive. She was just as stubborn as her mother, and to top it all of she didn't want her mother babying her. I think she took this as a personal offense, and if not that then my "edgy" beliefs (my Atheism, probably.)
She tried to bring back "her daughter", but she has started to give up. Now she is left with this new and intolerable version of her, waiting in vain left with nothing but the memories of a young and happy mother and what used to be her daughter.
`````````````````````````````````````````````````` `````
Let me present some of my evidence:
For a while I suspected that I had depression and anxiety, which was confirmed by my psychotherapist of five years and a psychiatrist. When I first introduced the idea to my mom she looked me in the eye and dismissed it outright, saying "You don't have depression."
She went on to talk about the things she had to deal with before she came to America, hinting that she dealt with worse things that I did and didn't have depression, so I should have it. I was really upset with her, but she ended up backtracking and making up an excuse for bringing that up out of nowhere.
Even when we officially went to the psychiatrist she was still trying to put doubts in my mind. She told me that if I just went outside more and hung out with my friends then I wouldn't need medication. I have tried to tell her many times that it isn't about having fun with friends, its about being unsatisfied with my whole situation (I felt that most of my friends didn't really care about me so being around them would be useless, almost detrimental to healing.) I needed help so that I wouldn't be afraid of approaching new people and slowly fixing my situation, but she insisted that medication wasn't the solution.
"You know, medication isn't going to solve all your problems."
"And going outside suddenly will!? I know medication isn't going to fix everything-that isn't the point! The point is that I am terrified of going out there and changing things and I need help in order to take those steps. I've already tried "hanging out", joining clubs and socializing. It isn't enough! I'm still miserable. I'm trying to reach out and get help so I can control this."
She said that it was my decision, but I could tell she wasn't happy with it.
In the past when I showed clear signs like never smiling, never looking people in the eye, hardly going outside, etc., she said it was just that "teenage phase" stuff.
I think she just didn't want to accept that my depression and anxiety would be permanent residents in my life.
Another piece of evidence:
She told me "I want my [my name] back."
It hurts me every time I think about it. It isn't about trying to support who I am right now, its about trying to bring back her memories of a better me. It really makes me realize how I've let her down as a mother and ended up becoming someone undesirable.
Conclusion:
I feel like every relationship I have can be summarized with this quote:
"You didn't know me. Then you fell in love with me. And now you know me." -Bojack Horseman
If there are more unseen problems with me that I just didn't notice, then I think I may never have another close relationship again.