Worst Decision

I am not sure how to put this into words, there is a huge part of my heart that feels so incredibly guilty. I am so torn and I am more than struggling. I am miserable and hate the entire situation.  I hate having my mother live with me, there is no break no breather and I fear the break that is coming.  

Things went down hill once she had weight loss surgery. I became something that got in her way, I was the fat daughter she wanted nothing to do with.  I stood for everything she hated and I felt it in my bones. Everything I did was disgusting to her. What I did, ate said  was far beneath her. I was the dirt under her shoes, the feelings that her coldness, and actions created in my already fragile heart; I was done.  I can remember the exact moment it was over. We were sitting on the couch, I was crying the kind of cry where you cant catch your breath, and so many words wanted to escape but the deep sad won, and no words were even understandable anymore. As I sat there my heart literally breaking, no one on my side she sat there and just shrugged her shoulders. No care. No concern. No compassion she wanted us out , my final semester, of my student teaching. A single mom on food stamps, working as a substitute on the days I didn't have school, I had no one. We were no longer welcomed in the house where my children were born, where they had learned to walk and had many firsts, we were no longer wanted. There was nothing there for me, once again in my life;  I wasn't wanted. That isn't something you get over really. So I was done, relationship broken beyond repair. I had nothing, but my children. I was disposable. I had no idea how I made it through college, guess that is just what I always did, keep going.

It was a few short weeks later, we moved out and I never looked back. It had been years apart, years of cruelness. Words seen and spoken that can never be taken back. Years of doing it all on my own. There was little to no contact with her. There was no support, no feeling for me and such a sense of self centeredness radiating from her that I was done, completely done with. There were pieces of me that were beyond repair.  So I finished school, took care of my children, I fought for everything, finally I was getting a little ahead. I found the most amazing people, did the documentary. I was getting stronger, my heart still tender but oh so strong. Until once again I became disposable, no one stood up for me. No one asked about my heart. Once again I was left by others, just an outlier. There was no support, no kindness no offers for help. No one asked about my heart, that was the worst part people chose sides, So I faded away. Only this time I was stronger and I found our very own perfect house, all on my own.  The kids and I made it. So many new experiences, We moved to Anna. My very own happy place that was mine, no more being dismissed and discarded. We had made it. Little by little my mother would call and come over. Short periods of time, that didn't hurt my heart. Those times got longer, things were working. It was my home she was a visitor, with her own place, it was ok.

Then she lost her job.  

After a year of searching, no job options, severance running out, I had the big idea, well why don't I get a bigger house and you can move in with us. I thought it was going to be different, but I am sure that was hope talking, I should have known. I so should have known. I felt bad for her and didn't know what she was going to do.  She had her house, no job and very little social security. So she sells her house, it sells in 2 days. Then we find a bigger house in Anna , the town which I had always called my place. There were a few red flags. I worried about being a homeowner, the expense, the upkeep. My concerns never heard. I am a single mom 2 children and a teacher Salary, then add a too big house. That was never a thought, I was never a thought. It was the continuous Ill be fine Ill be fine. The feelings I had in my very own home before are slowly slipping from my hand. 

Now, I have been in this house going on 5 years.

And there is no escape no breather for me. There is no safe place for me just to be.  This isnt a place where I am valued and seen. This isn't a place where who I am is important. This isn't a place where I am even tried to be understood. A black sheep in my own home.  All of the things that shredded my heart before, are happening now. I know the saying the predictor of future behavior is past behavior. Yes all of that. All of this I should have known.  Each year there have been more Docters, more complaints , more surgeries, not medicine. She plays the poor me victim; it's a way of life for her. I do everything to be as far from that as possible. A victim I have never been. She gets in between my children, and places great value on boys, and very little on girls. Every move I make every action is judged, I am 45. I have survived a million life times she knows nothing about, all on my own. I deserve to be free as the person, I have worked so hard to become.  The food issues that started the downfall have begun again, and I am torn. All the things that she stands for are things I can't get far enough from. She is my mother, that is all. She  stands for so many things in my life that I have fought so hard to move past. I have fought so hard to stop myself from drowning, To keep my head above water and keep swimming forward. She is the hand that without knowing, caring or wanting to do things different; keeps pushing me back underwater. That is no way to live. The life I have worked so hard to recover from is the life where she lives. Two worlds so far apart. One who is comfortable, one who wants more for herself and her children. These can not coexist under the same 4 walls. I am drowning in the lack of respect, and her refusal to see and understand the person I am today.

She asked are you mad at me  just the other day and literally has no clue that my anger has wells so deep, that they are unreachable. The things that I struggle with that I fight are things that began way back even as a baby. I miss the peace, of being in my own home where my things are exactly as I left them. I miss the quiet, I miss being able to light a candle, write and cry to relieve the thoughts inside. I miss coming home to my clean house where the things left out are from two teenagers. I hate the ugly pioneer woman that she has spewed across my kitchen. I hate her incessant talking to herself. She walks around bent over arms swinging expecting so much from everyone.  She makes a mess, leaves it for others. She talks like a two year old, whining that she doesn't know how to look something up.  Its poor her all the time. Talking to my brother is useless, he calls us the old married couple who gets on each others nerves. He laughed, doesn't understand, this is far from that Because I did not chose my mother.

I have no idea what the future holds. I am scared, I am exhausted. I am afraid this will last for a very long time. I worry when I don't want to come home. When my children are so affected. When Mariska is picked on, Vincent is used. This is not all that I have longed for. I  envision that safe  peaceful place that I once had. I am torn do I become small and sad accepting I invited her in. Do I find the courage to say this isn't working, I need my own place to be, to heal, to feel. I am 45 and need a place where there is acceptance and freedom. I do not know what is next, with all that is in my heart I hope I am able to find some solution, without anymore damage being done to my heart, because I am torn and tired of drowning.

I heart your heart.