via Daily Prompt: Fragile

You’ve failed me yet again. You’ve betrayed my trust and abandoned me (emotionally, that is) just like the hundreds of other times before. I’d like to know how many times there were that I don’t even remember. Things have really been looking up for me…until this. Something that I wasn’t even involved in, yet you’ve successfully dragged me right in, yet again. So at the moment, as I pick myself up from the dirt that you shoved me into, I’m trying to figure out why this is happening. Situations like this don’t just come up for no good reason. There’s something I’m supposed to find here. I was having a fantastic day, right up until the moment all of this went down, completely knocking me off my feet. All I really thought about all day was how well things have been going for me. Not to mention, for a while now, I’ve thought that you and I were fine, but apparently there are still unresolved issues, damages that need to be re-examined. Because here we are once more.

I feel like a child again. I remember this feeling. Yes, it’s quite familiar, actually. You’ve reduced me, from a grown woman, right back down to a wounded little girl; crying, frightened, beyond confused and frustrated, severely disappointed and wondering, “what did I do?” This is, for me, the mother of all triggers, literally. You’ve never wanted to hear what I’ve had to say. As a matter of fact, you’ve never wanted to hear what anyone has to say, unless it fits in with your closed-minded and jaded viewpoint. When are you going to learn that you can’t live this way and be happy at the same time? That to be in harmony with others, you sometimes have to bend a little or just agree to disagree? Of course, you can assert your will, in fact, you should! But you don’t always need to be right, you don’t always need to scream your opinion and argue with people, with hands cupped over your ears. When are you going to lay down your weapons and trust someone? Anyone? When are you going to trust me or realize that I’m not trying to threaten you or hurt you? Our beliefs may differ, but that shouldn’t matter. It does with you, though. You’ve made it perfectly clear.

I’m sorry that I don’t fit the mold of who you want me to be. Heather and Andrew have never disrupted the status quo, so I guess they’re “good,” and worthy of your love. But it’s a totally different story with me. It always has been. Mommy, if I vote for Donald Trump, will you tell me that I’m good? How about if I tell you that I really don’t care about the environment, after all? (Apparently, my love of nature and concern for the Earth are bothersome to you. Yeah, hearing that was a new low. I can’t say I ever imagined I would be mocked and ridiculed by my own mother for something that I genuinely care about.) Will you love me if I decide to go back to being depressed and not following my dreams? Maybe I should just do that. Maybe then, I will finally make you proud and be deserving of your love.

All because my beliefs sometimes challenge yours, because I speak up about who I am and because I don’t try to be a carbon copy of you, you can’t love me? Since I choose to be happy, you can’t accept me? Oh, so now you don’t want me calling you anymore? Hey, thanks, ma. Well, I’m sorry, but as much as that hurts me, I will never stop being who I am, no matter what. Not only do I have absolutely no desire to do so, but I really couldn’t, even if I tried. And if need be, I can survive – hell, I can THRIVE – with or without you in my life.

That’s not what I want, though. I’ve never wanted this tension, this animosity or this downright hatred from you. For longer than I can remember, I’ve been desperately trying to figure out why it even exists, or what I can do differently to change it, but for the life of me, I can’t. Is this ever going to change? Must we live like this forever? Or is the whole point of this that I’m supposed to just walk away from you? You don’t seem like you’d mind. At least, that’s what I gather from the horrible things that you’ve said to me. Honestly, I don’t know how much more of this abuse I can take from you. I don’t know how much longer I’m supposed to put up with this hell before I decide that it’s nothing more than a self-destructive habit or an addiction that I need to kick. Is that what my relationship with my own mother is? If so, that’s pretty fucked up. But every time you hurt me, I forgive you again and just keep going back for more. Maybe I should just cut my losses, and the cord, as well. You seem pretty adamant that you’re never going to change your stubborn, antagonistic ways, so what am I supposed to do here? I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. Would you even care if you lost me? Mom, if I never showed up at your door again, would it faze you in the least? And what about Astrid? Do you really want to lose your sweet grandbaby? Over this – something you’ve conjured up in your delusional mind? Please help me understand. I’m begging you. I’m desperately trying to help you, but no matter how loud I speak, you just don’t hear me. What do you want me to do?


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