Dear Mother

I've had a few drinks by now. Following the same instinctual pattern. But, I still feel like I'm a better person than you.

No, I'm not amazing in any way. I don't think I'm a good person at all. But you make me want to be a better person ever since you first put your hands on me at 7-8yrs old. PTSD makes everything a huge puzzle with missing pieces so time means nothing and all memories mushed into a dark cloud.

Anyway. I will always help you through everything and anything even though you would never do it for me. But stop making me feel bad for shit that is out of my hands. I'm tired of you talking down to me like I'm less than you. Constantly saying demeaning and hurtful things. The way you will always walk infront of me like you're so much fucking better. Better than everyone.The tables have turned, I'm now taking care of you. Sadly, I'm taking better care of you than you did me.

I strive to be better than the punching bag I was to you.

Mother Unit

Alright, to set the ambiance that will be the following post:

My Mother and I have never gotten along. I've always felt like she chose my brother over me, which is pretty valid in my opinion but then again it's just that - my opinion. I was her baby girl, her punching bag. Weighing in at 115lbs and 5'3ft (or less, whatever), I was the entire families punching bag for the pain never revealed. We weren't the Smith's on the corner with the perfect family with cardigans and khaki's. We were and are individuals which brings new light to the current situation.

At 14yrs old, my parents separated and I was forced to live with my Mother. I hated it. Well, I was young and neglected my entire life so living with the person I despised at the time only hightened my anxiety. It's interesting how the tables turn.

At 21yrs old, my Mother told me she has been diagnosed with liver cirrhosis (along with type 2  diabetes for 10+ yrs). Instead of putting the  bottle down and hoping for a number on the transplant list, she kicked it back. Constantly. Even worse than before she found out. I gave up. Told her, 'you're free to live your life the way you want and I respect that. But I refuse to live my life watching you kill yourself.'

Now, at 24yrs old, my Mother is dying of end stage liver disease and her organs completely shutting down. Today, she officially got fired from the job she hasn't been able to go to since February, technically January. I asked her if it'd be easier if she lived with me.. she asked me to make a pro's and con's list, so here it is for the world to see:

Pros
Take care of her
Provide food, shelter, animal love
Save money
If need info for paperwork, a lot easier

Cons
Taking care of her when I can't take care of myself


More to add later.