Loopy, Lonely and Lost

I’m struggling, living with my mum. I don’t really know where to start in explaining this. It feels like there’s so much history behind it that, no matter how much explaining I try to do, I can’t tell the full story. It’s too big.

But I’m trying not to live in the past.

The biggest problem in the present is her hypocrisy. She makes rude, aggressive, judgemental, angry, spiteful comments about people. And then when they challenge her on that, she accuses them of being rude, aggressive, judgemental, angry, spiteful. This is the worst thing. I could cope with her comments if she wasn’t always shouting at people, accusing them of displaying the very traits she embodies, day in, day out.

She doesn’t believe that I am a human being. She doesn’t believe that my feelings or opinions are valid. If I say anything that disagrees with her, she calls me stupid or says I’ve been brainwashed.  Nothing I ever say to her carries any weight whatsoever. I can’t even begin to describe how awful this makes me feel. My opinion never counts. My feelings don’t exist. She looks at me with a sort of vague pity, like I’m a toddler having a tantrum or someone with severe concussion. She feels sorry for me. She pities my stupidity.

It makes me so fucking angry. How can you argue with that? How can you try to stop someone fucking up your family when everything you say is met with that attitude? I’m supposed to be an adult but I am inconsequential in her eyes.

I know I should move out. Truth is, I’m terrified. I can admit that here but I can’t say it out loud. I can’t imagine a way out of this house without cutting off all communication with my family, and I’m scared because I don’t really have anyone else. I’m good at making friends, good at meeting people and hitting it off with them, but I’m rubbish at meaningful relationships, at the kind of friendships where you confide in and support each other. I just don’t trust people, which means that nobody ever really volunteers to spend time with me if they don’t have to, which means I could move out of this house and never see anybody, ever, except at work. I’m scared of being alone with my thoughts forever, and I’m scared of slipping out of society…I feel like if I moved out, I’d just fall apart, stop going to work, stop doing anything except just sitting around. I know I’ve been feeling pretty good lately but I don’t know how much of that is down to the fear I have that if I act in any way out of the ordinary, my mother will seize on it and use it as a weapon against me.

I don’t suppose I’m making much sense.

I’m not depressed. I think it’s important to differentiate. If I wasn’t having these problems with her, I think I’d feel fine. But I know there is a danger. I know how bad she can make me feel, and unfortunately, when I rule out moving out, my head tends to linger on suicide quite a lot. I’m trying not to think about it, hoping it’ll go away.