Last week my mom said some ignorant and racist stuff. We had what I thought was a civil conversation until my partner got up and walked away to go to the bathroom, this is where the shit hit the fan. She got mad at my partner for walking away from a conversation she wasn’t even a part of. I said “fuck this toxic shit I’m out” We packed up our stuff to leave (we were visiting from out of town) as she came upstairs and starting berating me, and my partner gaslighting, putting us down, denying she did anything wrong because you know she’s “done so much for me” and “how dare I do this to her”  “how dare I say anything even related to her is toxic.” She has done this so many times, but this time I had a witness. She pulled my partner aside and told her “He has a lot of problems doesn’t he.” My partner said we need to leave. She was shocked. 

A week later I thought I’ll give her another chance. I thought things were ok. Until I said verbatim “it hurts my feelings when you say I have problems” because as anyone knows, that is incredibly condescending and demeaning to someone who struggles with mental illness. She replied with  “you do have a lot of problems” and promptly stormed off because yet again “it’s on me how I perceive what she says”. It’s at that moment I again grabbed all my shit and left. I texted her and said “ I am working on my problems, maybe it’s time you work on yours.” I then blocked her number. I have now come to realize what an emotionally and verbally abusive household I grew up in. 

It all seems like it just clicked, someone snapped their fingers and I realized my mom really never cared about me. She cared about her own image and her own feelings. She has never and will never have even an ounce of empathy towards another living thing. My partner now witnessed and confirmed that isn’t a normal home life. I thought it was normal to beg your parents to love you, like it was normal that I was “a problem. And would always be a problem” or “she has done so much for me” like asked to be  born, or like I’m so fucking lucky she didn’t leave me or abort me. That’s not love, that’s a piece of shit human being. She cares when she can use it against me, she cares for ammunition. All she ever cared about was herself. 

I’m honestly glad I had childhood trauma because I think that sent me the other way. I think a lot of her family has untreated npd but because of what happened to me, it somehow went the other way and left me with bpd. I am so glad that I cut her out of my life. 

Sorry for this extremely in depth and probably confusing rant. I needed to get this out. I’ll never be able to tell her or make her understand how I feel. So peace out, I never had a family anyways.