I wasnt doing my homework, im getting better now but this morning my mom wasnāt having it. I started crying as we walked out the door and so she unlocked it and took me back in.
I started crying to her and apologizing but i heard her chuckle slightly. I asked her to not laugh but she didnāt respond. After almost every sob i heard a small heckle.
I told her how I felt (some of it) and she just stared at her phone the whole time. Scrolling instagram or whatever while her child across from her couldnāt breathe or stop sobbing.
She said I had no reason to cry or be dramatic. She said I was pretty and smart and at a good school. She said I just needed to ābe happierā and āthink happy thoughts,ā like yeah that helps but it isnāt a cure or a permanent solution. Thatās when youāre down and blue not depressed and screaming to a deaf woman.
She went on about how Bradford, my school, is āThe top school in Alamance county,ā and when i told her I didnāt care she obviously got annoyed. I told her I wasnāt happy there and she said āwhat about your friends,ā and I fucking LOVE my friends so so so much but I also just want a peace of mind. I told her that it was whatever and she got mad again and started going off about me being ungrateful and how Im extremely lucky. I told her that I wasnāt happy and no amount of drugs could make me happy at Bradford and she told me that we just need to get me reevaluated and put on new medication.
I wanted to scream, claw at my throat. I tried to yell but I didnāt want to make mom mad or worried. She started yelling at me more which in turn made me cry more. She kept yelling to go clean my face of the tears for school.
I couldnāt feel my legs or hands. I felt like a faun walking as I stumbled towards her bathroom. Even running my hands through freezing water couldnāt help. My hands were there, I just couldnāt feel. My legs were shaking, and I was struggling to keep upright.
I slumped onto the floor at one point, staring at the drool dripping from my lips as I struggled to breathe. I cleaned the floor and stood back up, my breath was still shaky.
I slammed my head against the wall as a clutched a tower on the bar desperately. I couldnāt feel anything. I hit my head until the feeling in my hands returned. I kept my head against the wall, mindlessly mumbling, āI apologize for overreacting and Im ready to go to school.ā
I rinsed my hands again, placing them over the mouth and letting me inhale the cold air.
I came back out after a bit. I grabbed my things and went to the car, debating to sit in the back or passenger. I decided on passenger so she wouldnāt blow up on me for wanting to distance myself.
I asked to drive around the block, to which she obliged. We drove and she tried getting me to watch videos of our cats which, as much as I love my cats, did not help.
She then drove us downtown to this bakery, which she knows I hate, and made me go inside with her even though I asked not to and was still crying.
Part of me hates my mom. Most of me hates her actually. But I like her good days. I like when sheās not mad or disappointed or upset and weāre happy. We go to thrift stores and bookstores and on the way home we sing show tunes in the car and I feel calm and the noise in my head calms.
Then the next day sheās bad again. Sheās offering to buy us food and go out, then she complains about money and how she pays for everything and everyone.
Sheāll hold me while I cry one day but as soon as itās her fault or Im the one being āself destructiveā with my homework neglect, she looks at me like Im a stranger in her home.
I know she has a lot on her plate but she sometimes forgets the little things and then I end up having to order them. Like bandaids, or toilet paper, or pads, even cat litter. I get it, she has adhd, but she still has to be a mom.
I hate how similar we are. She always compares me to her mother which is part of why I think she yells at me. She always says how similar I am to her or to my grandmother, but she never says how similar her and her mom are.
My mom also scares me. I never know how she is. She could be in a good mood and be fun or she could be stressed and pissed and snap at any small request.
I wanna live with my dad like all the time but I know Iāll miss my cats and my bed and my room. Itāll just sit there, empty of life beside the cat on the foot of the bed. I hate going to my momās most of the time.
Sometimes she says offhanded remarks about my dad, which I donāt like, but I just sit in silence and try to change the subject. She complains about picking sides a-lot.
