For my mother

[songbirdrosa]

I didn't think I'd be writing this so soon, but the feelings suddenly came bubbling up this morning so I want to act on it while they're here.

When I hear that nagging, critical inner voice in my head, it sounds eerily similar to yours. Nasal, shrill, overly loud, and a touch obnoxious. It's not really that surprising, considering that when I was growing up, the vast majority of the criticism came from you. 'Tidy your room!' 'Do the dishes!' 'Vacuum the floor!' 'Clean the kitchen!' 'Why are you so lazy?' 'You have to go to school, you can't be sick again!' 'Look at you, you're the size of a barn!' 'Why aren't you eating anything?' 'It's scrounge dinner tonight, get your own food!'

Is it any wonder I grew to hate myself?

You put yourself first, every single time. Like when you reported me missing after I'd gone to the movies. You'd have known where I was if you'd bothered to stop talking to your friend long enough to answer when I tried to call you twice. Or what about that time you left me to clean the whole house the day of an inspection because you ran off to be with your piece on the side? Can you blame me for breaking down and deadbolting the door when the real estate agent turned up? I was a teenager, I didn't know how to handle that! Dare I even mention all the times you yelled at me for saying I was sick and didn't want to go to school? Maybe if you'd come out of your own little bubble for long enough,you would have seen that there was something very wrong with me! But, no. I was the problem. I was the lazy one for not doing the housework, even though you never did any either. I was being too moody, too difficult, too stressful. I was the reason why you spent hours every night on the phone to your friend, when I could hear you talking about me and saying horrible things. I was the dreadful child who treated YOU badly. I'm the one who always creates drama (says the woman who exaggerates every story she tells for attention and/or sympathy). I'm the one who doesn't take responsibility! Well guess what? I learned from the master.

There is nothing you can't relate back to yourself. Your pain is always greater. Your problems are always bigger. I get diagnosed with bipolar, suddenly you say that YOU have symptoms of bipolar. I start seeing a trauma counselor, you want to see the same counselor. I said you exaggerate all the time, and you do. I know it, my uncles know it, grandpa knows it. As a matter of fact, the only one who doesn't seem to know it is you. But you'll do anything for that little bit of extra attention. You're a professional victim. And you'll tell your life story to anyone who'll stay still long enough because you want EVERYONE to know that you're in pain, and you're suffering.

Right now, I'm your ticket to endless pity. 'My daughter is very sick, she's got severe mental health problems!' Never mind that I've asked you numerous times to not talk about me with other people. It's all about you, isn't it? But you won't admit that.