As I came to an age where I could better understand things, my eyes were opened in a way that brought new light to my surroundings. For the past few years now, the relationship between my mother and I changed from unconditional love to something strained and unhappy. I understand that I should at least be grateful to her for giving me the gift of life and I am, but it’s hard to muster even that for a person who has created so much unneeded chaos over the years. After my parents separated, I always had the choice to leave her and live with my dad. In the beginning I was held back by the skewed view of him that my mother contributed to, and then it became guilt at the thought of leaving my mom and my little sister in a state of poverty. She lived off of disability and child support and she always said that my leaving would put both her and my sister out on the streets and she would also say that if I left she would commit suicide. What else could I do but live with the burden that is called Mom? I may have had a lot of anger, but that didn't make me cold hearted or “cruel” as she often called me during one of our many arguments. Even after my mind was set, one evening crumbled all of my resolve.
Almost a year ago, during Thanksgiving, everything fell apart. Over the weekend it was my job to pet-sit for my best friend, Laurel. I had to go to her house twice every day and feed them. That night it was getting late and I had already told my mom that we had to leave early from my grandmother’s thanksgiving dinner, so I could feed the animals and still she got angry with me. When I finally got her to leave, she complained that she wasn't able to get the leftovers and how it was my fault. Of course, I argued in my defense and that lit the fuse to an inevitably horrible night. And as always, her ranting veered into the subject of my dad and all of the terrible things that he ever did. Her constant derogatory comments about my father got under my skin like nothing else. I still don’t understand how she could take one argument and end it in an entirely different argument. She just did and I knew that she would never fully let go of the past, which would only hurt her and those around her. Mom was supposed to be driving me to Laurel’s house, but she was so angry with me that she decided to take my younger sister’s boyfriend home first. Rose, my sister, and her boyfriend got out of the car for a few minutes to do something, so Mom and I were left alone, sitting tensely.
We sat there for a while in silence. The emotions emitting from us were almost palpable in the air. Not wanting to look at her, I fixated my gaze on my cellphone, turning it slowly in my hands. She saw the light shining from my phone in the darkness and tried to snatch it away from me. I refused to give it up because I felt that she had no legitimate reason to take it away aside from her own petty notions. Because Mom wasn't able to get my phone, she grabbed my wrist and wouldn't let go. Things just went from bad to worse from then on. She didn't hurt me, but only because she was physically unable to. After our little altercation, I was able to free myself and get out of the car. I called my dad and with my emotions running on high, I had trouble verbalizing what was going on and my need for him to come and get me. When I knew he was on the way, I started walking down the road to put some distance between Mom and I. She began yelling at me to get back into the car. Of course, I wasn't going to do that, so she did what she always does when things don’t go her way. Mom called the police and when they got there, she assumed her role as the victim and claimed that I assaulted her. Tears streaked down my face as the police officer questioned me in a manner that felt like he was accusing me too. I despise crying in front of people, but I couldn't hold back my sobs in that stressful situation. That was, as my dad would say, “The straw that broke the camel’s back.”
That was the moment when it all hit home. I didn't know if I was just being a selfish, whimpering teenager or if I was being completely logical. I just knew that I was unhappy and living in that situation was something that I just couldn't do anymore. More often than not I would wake up with my back and neck so tight from stress that if I made any sudden movements, it would hurt. The more Mom pushed me, the more apathetic I became to her plight. That night is when I finally made the difficult decision to live with my Dad. In doing that, it opened me up to a whole new world of turmoil. I had to keep living with my mom until the court case was over and during that time she would be cold towards me, yell at me, or beg me to stay. In my life I learned that when I felt down or stressed, I would think about all of the difficult things so many other people have been able to overcome and that always helped me through whatever it was I had dealt with. For months I waited and the day finally came where I was able to move in with my dad. I was enveloped in a new sense of relief and security that I’ve never felt before.
There are many times that I still think about whether or not some of the choices I’ve made during my time with Mom were right. With her, so many lines are blurred that it’s hard to tell. I haven’t entirely let go of all of the things that I've held against her, but there has been a vast improvement from what it was. Do I love her? Maybe I do. Apathy is still the ruling emotion in me when it comes to her. Her actions, although bad, have also helped me grow as a human being and I am thankful for that. It taught me that I’m not an adult and it shouldn't be placed upon my shoulders to take care of my mom and sister and not wanting to stay doesn't make me a bad person. I also learned how incredibly important forgiveness is. Not just for others, but for myself. It could be the difference between me becoming a happy, well-rounded individual or a bitter, sad human being that dwells on the past. For that reason, I try to be kinder to Mom and more appreciative. I don’t think my emotions towards her will ever be the same, though. Some things, no matter how hard you try, just can’t be changed.