My mother can't seem to handle the fact that my mind thinks for itself.  She thinks that I am trying to argue everything she says when really I am just thinking for myself and voicing my own ways and opinions.  She doesn't know how to comprimise.  I know if she read this she'll probably say that she comprimised by allowing me to live here.  Is it love to say "Shut up!"?  Is it love to say "If you want to live here don't say another word!"?  I'm doing what I can to comply with her wishes except for being as tidy as she would like me to be.  She said a while back that I can't live with her unless I take my meds.  I'm taking my meds when I remember most days without a reminder.  Still that is not enough.  She thinks that all of the help that I am getting means that I am supposed to bow down and kiss her white ass.  She's human.  She errs.  She's not Jesus, God, or the Goddess.  I'm thirty five years old.  I'm too damn old not to think for myself.  What's wrong with her?  Is it love to say "You argue everything I say.  It's no wonder everyone is mad at you."?  I don't believe that she loves me.  She loves her own idea of what I should be.  I don't meet her standards so she goes out of her way to make me feel like shit.  I got suicidal again last night because of her shit.  I actually did alot of crying last night.  It's been a long time since I have bawled like that.  Her words cut me deeply.  I can't wait until it all comes back on her through the law of three.  What would she do if I did kill myself for crying out loud?  Would she really even care?  She has said that it would upset her, but I don't believe her anymore.  She knows that I get suicidal when she yells at me.  She knows I end up in the CSU too.  She doesn't give a shit.  What if I said fuck the CSU?  What if I went and swallowed all of my meds instead of sleeping pills?  She doesn't fucking think.  That's ok.  I'll remember her ways.  I won't forgive her either.  What comes around goes around.  I don't have to forgive her.  She doesn't love me.  She only loves her own grandiose delusion of what I should be.  She doesn't believe in my own individuality.  She doesn't care that the voices picked up again after living with her.  How convenient.  Put a strangle hold on my mind and it's bound to start acting screwey.  Damn it!  Do I have to bind her ignorant ass?  She says that I am lazy.  I think the meds cause me to be worse than what I was before.  She doesn't believe that the meds could possibly be doing anything to me at all.  Meanwhile she has never taken these meds.  Almost all of them have the side effect of drowsiness.  She is such an ignorant bitch.  If she doesn't wake up and start treating me with some respect and dignity I'm going to hate her.

 

I understand now as to what my father was trying to teach when I lived with him.  He was trying to teach me to think for myself most of the time.  Ok, so he didn't want me wearing Pjs out to the store.  He didn't want me smoking weed.  I think that's quite simply understood.  Well, maybe not the Pjs, but the weed is.  I understand now.  He was generally a hell of alot easier on me than she is.  He was trying to teach me to be self sufficient while forcing me to go out and look for work despite my illness.  He didn't understand how bad the voices were effecting me for the two years up there that they were.  I do know that the voices had stopped while I was up there.  Everything that he was trying to teach me, my mother is trying to tear down.  The voices increased again while I have been down here.  I notice that they are decreasing a bit the more I stand up for myself.  Unfortunately, either way I'm catching a bunch of hell down here.  If I am quiet and allow people to walk all over me the voices get louder.  If I don't allow people to walk all over me the people get meaner and nastier.  I have concluded that I hate it down here.  I have to figure out a way to get better so that I can get out of my mother's evil grasp.