I grew up with parents who were always fighting. When I was a teenager, my mother showed some incidents that were unbalanced and unhinged. I remember and an incident when I was about 17. I was in school and I got the summer holidays from school. It was the norm to find summer work to earn a wage. I had my CVs. When I had summer holidays, I went to search for work every day. I tried coffee shops, shops, hotels, bars, restaurants but I was not getting hired. Then one day my mother launched an attack at me for not working. Even though it wasn't intentional. I just wasn't able to get work. I tried in my local village and in nearby villages and the city too but I did not have any luck. I did eventually get something but the way.
The attack from my mother was cruel. It was nearly as if she felt entitled to any wage that I earned. That was definitely the pattern that followed throughout my 20s. She was only ever happy when I was giving her money. That was it.
I could go on and on and on and on about all of the wrongs and the sexist treatments and the abuse from my mother. You see I had brothers and she never charged them rent but she would be abusive to me if I was even 1 minute late.
I reflected on the abuse from her and I thought it was an after effects of her abusive marriage and maybe she wanted to allow my brothers to live for free at home because she relied on them for security and diy.
She grew up in a country where women were treated as second class citizens and I thought there was an element of that too where she likely viewed men as powerful and people to look up now matter what and she probably found women to be weaker and easier to abuse.
She did mellow to me.
I live at home due to a housing crisis.
I always aimed to please. But now she is worse than ever before. It's much worse now. Over the past few years I noticed some things and there is no doubt in my mind now what is happening. She is going senile.
She is a senile old bully and that's all she is.
It is so so so so so so so so so stressful.
I am not afraid of dieing. I'm fact I have a level of peace just thinking about it.
However I am too much of a coward to it.
I wish there was an easy way to commit suicide. I want out of this life.
No body knows how hard this is.
The senile stuff is so much worse. Her hate of me shines through. She's a scumbag.
There are so many things now too that she is senile. She is just a hugely difficult person.
A lot of observations are not memory loss based and a lot of people think of senile stuff as memory loss. It's behavioural, mood, low comprehension, lack of empathy, impulsiveness and so much more.
So I don't even have a diagnosis for her and she's so difficult. I am not able to sit down with her and tell her my concerns because she won't listen. It would be a huge rage from her.
To make it so much more worse. I work in care caring for disability service users and I live helping them and seeing them grow. The sad thing is, there are so many cross over skills to now take home and I am someone who would be able to be somewhat ok-ish with a lot of this. Already I am learning and I adapted too and I am learning how to manage many behaviours.
However I now realise it will never never never never be enough. If I owned a penis is my crotch my mother would automatically be soft towards me me but I don't. She is just a senile old bully who I'd filled with hate and abuse and bitterness and spite.
It's just too much.
I am not afraid of dieing. I want to.
The attack from my mother was cruel. It was nearly as if she felt entitled to any wage that I earned. That was definitely the pattern that followed throughout my 20s. She was only ever happy when I was giving her money. That was it.
I could go on and on and on and on about all of the wrongs and the sexist treatments and the abuse from my mother. You see I had brothers and she never charged them rent but she would be abusive to me if I was even 1 minute late.
I reflected on the abuse from her and I thought it was an after effects of her abusive marriage and maybe she wanted to allow my brothers to live for free at home because she relied on them for security and diy.
She grew up in a country where women were treated as second class citizens and I thought there was an element of that too where she likely viewed men as powerful and people to look up now matter what and she probably found women to be weaker and easier to abuse.
She did mellow to me.
I live at home due to a housing crisis.
I always aimed to please. But now she is worse than ever before. It's much worse now. Over the past few years I noticed some things and there is no doubt in my mind now what is happening. She is going senile.
She is a senile old bully and that's all she is.
It is so so so so so so so so so stressful.
I am not afraid of dieing. I'm fact I have a level of peace just thinking about it.
However I am too much of a coward to it.
I wish there was an easy way to commit suicide. I want out of this life.
No body knows how hard this is.
The senile stuff is so much worse. Her hate of me shines through. She's a scumbag.
There are so many things now too that she is senile. She is just a hugely difficult person.
A lot of observations are not memory loss based and a lot of people think of senile stuff as memory loss. It's behavioural, mood, low comprehension, lack of empathy, impulsiveness and so much more.
So I don't even have a diagnosis for her and she's so difficult. I am not able to sit down with her and tell her my concerns because she won't listen. It would be a huge rage from her.
To make it so much more worse. I work in care caring for disability service users and I live helping them and seeing them grow. The sad thing is, there are so many cross over skills to now take home and I am someone who would be able to be somewhat ok-ish with a lot of this. Already I am learning and I adapted too and I am learning how to manage many behaviours.
However I now realise it will never never never never be enough. If I owned a penis is my crotch my mother would automatically be soft towards me me but I don't. She is just a senile old bully who I'd filled with hate and abuse and bitterness and spite.
It's just too much.
I am not afraid of dieing. I want to.
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