I called my mom an idiot.

I was so angry. I’m so perpetually angry. At myself. At him. At her.

I wanted to move out of this place because I didn’t want to be in a relationship with him anymore and so I called my mom to talk about it. It was then I realized, finally, that I can never really talk to my mom when things are going bad. And that’s part of the problem. I can’t open up to her honestly and sincerely when my life is going bad, as a shoulder to cry on. I told her I wanted to move out of this place because he and I were arguing for the millionth time and I just wanted to be healthy and rid myself of it. I called her and she yelled at me, talking about how my life was going better before I got a cat because of my allergies, and saying that it would be a bad idea for me to leave.

But she didn’t just say it like that. I called her – no, she called me – and with a heavy sigh talked to me in a what now tone. As if my problems are a burden to her. And I didn’t need her to solve my problems, I just wanted to finally tell her the truth of my relationship and that I think I needed to leave it because it was toxic.

She focused so hard on me living in a place with cheap rent. “But Jasmine you’re finally stable, don’t leave, don’t run” and she was right, but it’s the way she says it and if you’re in an abusive relationship the money doesn’t matter, if you need to leave you leave.

He had already left and made promises of coming back but never came back and that bothered me because I felt lied to. He was lying to me. He lied to me a lot. It was one of the reasons I wanted to break up with him in March. But I didn’t listen to myself and I stayed with him. I moved across the country which was my own damn fault and as I was making money to move back, he told me to move in with him here… where I’m at now.

He denies this. He’ll say I pushed or forced myself onto him. It’s a lot of that. People not taking responsibility for their choices. I realized I was taking on too much responsibility and letting people get away with a lot. I wasn’t standing up for myself or advocating for myself. I didn’t defend myself or end the relationship when he called me an idiot. I let him keep calling me an idiot and I internalized that, until I lashed out at my mom.

I’m just sick of the emotional instability and the toxic pain. I’m sick of being in pain and being around unhappy people. A lot of people are unhappy for whatever reason and for a long time they would take it out on me. Maybe they are working jobs they don’t like. Most of the time it’s that. Maybe they aren’t fulfilling something they want to do. I don’t konw.

I’m not a victim. Please don’t take this as victimhood. But I can’t be open with my mom. I can’t go to her when I’m really struggling and so she sees fragments of my relationships, never really knowing how internally I was in pain, never understanding me or even really seeing me.

I’m all good to her as long as I come with good news, but when I’m in pain, when I need her the most. She kicks me when I’m down. She has no patience for it, she doesn’t care.

I”ve had financial troubles since I dropped out of grad school, battling what I now see was substance abuse and severe depression, trying to make sense of my own failures and my inability to take care of myself. I was diagnosed all kinds of things after the fact, trying to pinpoint what exactly was wrong with me that I couldn’t get my life together.

I thought maybe it was autism, that my inability to speak up when something bothered me was social anxiety and selective mutism. To an extent, it was that, but there is something more insidious here. I grew up with a parent who literally can’t handle negative emotions to any extent. Her way of dealing with that is alcohol instead of confrontation. Suppression of those emotions means she can’t feel or identify with them and thus can’t empathize when someone else has them. That’s my armchair analysis.

I’ve had so many negative emotions that has been released in the last couple of years. It feels like I’ve been an open wound for a while. And the scapegoating, gaslighting and degrading from her finally got to be too much.

I want so badly to be happy and I am happy when I’m alone, but I literally don’t know how to share happiness with another person in some ways, and I’m sad about it.

My relationships have sucked. I have chosen poorly. But now I see why and I’m angry about it. I never had a good role model for relationships. I don’t know what love and respect even is with another person on an intimate level and I’m ruining the relationships I have around me because of it.

I cut her off today. I told her as politely as I could, that I will never talk to her again, and I think that’s for my own healing. I can’t go backwards. I was happiest in my life when she wasn’t in it. I used to get anxiety attacks even thinking about talking to her. I’ve somehow stopped listening to myself and went to her when I needed money, instead of believing I could do it on my own.

He tells me that I’m incapable of taking care of myself, that I need someone else, but I don’t think that’s true. I think that’s a lie I’ve been telling myself for too long and my reality is reflecting that. She told me that she would help me with the security deposit, and when I called to ask for her help on it a month later, she says I’m manipulating her.

Is it manipulative to ask your mom for help with your rent? I’ve been homeless before because I literally felt happier being homeless than begging her for money because of the guilt and shame she makes me feel for asking. All I’ve wanted was to heal myself so I can go back to school, but I’m honestly so miserable that my one dream of being a mathematician is so alien to me I truly don’t believe I’ll ever achieve it.

I’m a loser.

And yeah you can call that negative self talk. It is. But it’s the state of mind I feel all the time now. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t fight the demons against me. I couldn’t put up barriers against everyone else’s depression, and now here I am, depressed too.

Everyday I want to die. My mom says that’s me being manipulative and that people who truly want to die wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m sick of thinking about things in terms of “Am I being manipulative if I express grief or ask for assistance?” So that’s why I cut her off. I need help. Call me manipulative or what, but I said I needed help and all you had to do was say “no.” If she didn’t want to help me, say no, but don’t try to guess my intentions. The thing is, she has the money, and I’m not asking her if it wasn’t my last resort, but maybe it’s not, maybe she isn’t my last resort, so I will stop resorting to her. I will never ask her for help again. I would rather live outside in peace, than be dragged down in the chaos that is her alcholism. I should have realized this years ago, and I did to an extent, but I didn’t stick with my decision.

I’m getting stronger. I may be suicidally depressed here, but I’m getting stronger.