So…I did something dumb. I am just a human. Trying the best I can, you know. I woke up and it was dark. It was so insanely dark. I was searching for reasons, searching in the dark. Like a small child, curled up and scared, I only thought of one thing. I thought of my mother. When I called she said she could not speak, she was in a meeting, but would called back. Then she called to ask why I was upset and I said it was not something that I could put into a sentence so she would call after her meeting. We spoke and I wanted to tell her about me. About how I was in a lot of pain and no longer wanted to live.
She let me know that she was pleased that I was going to do a masters as my sister had informed her yesterday. I explained that I had failed a component of my course and I am in no state to do my exam tomorrow so I will be graduating later. This set her off. She asked why it was the first she was hearing of it and I explained that an F is not something you openly come to a parent with for fear of disappointment. However she decided that I had said that it was all her fault, that I was coming to a conclusion that my mental state right now is because of an F grade that I could not tell her about. I did not tell anyone, because I thought I had it handled. I retook and retook, thinking that all would be alright in the end, if I could just improve the grade. It did not improve now and I am at the end. Running out of time. So I tried to explain to you calmly that I would not graduate until September.
You are irritated. You begin to say how I am weak. I crumble too easily. I want to tell you that I am hurting. So so much and not because of an F, but because I have been through hell and survived it. I was never going to escape without getting burnt. So when you tell me that I crumble too easily and you have experienced more trauma than I will know in my life…explain what you mean. You have only expressed your struggle in moving country and being a single parent. I understand that this world has hurt you. I understand that you have your own problems. Domestic violence is unfair. So is rape. So is child abuse. So is bullying and manipulation. Stop victim blaming. These things crush your soul more than any man could ever break my heart.
So now that I have been crushed to the point where nothing is left and yet somehow I am still fighting, you tell me I crumble too easily. She would not listen. She would not stop the sound of her own voice to take in what I was saying. She never has. And I asked until the point where I was begging. Please listen to me. Stop talking. Talking means that you are not listening. To her, these words are disrespectful. So she said same old with you. Always the same. Always attention seeking. Well you know what, grow up. You are 21 now. You are supposed to be an adult. So get over it. I did not realise adults could not suffer…tell me the secret to suddenly surviving and getting over it. I still cannot let people near me. I am still suffering. The years go by and I am struggling to figure out what is going on with me.
Really, you are the one who is attention seeking, again. Then you wonder why I do not come to you. When I need help, I have to reassure you. You tell me you do not care what I do with my life, figure it out on my own, you are done. You tell me that I do not value you as a mother. If we go back to why I called…I hit rock bottom. I was in crisis and I needed some level of appreciation from you. I needed to feel like I was not a burden, a disappointment or someone who does not deserve to exist. You did not help though. Once again, I felt worthless and here I was giving you value. You think that is what children are for but you are so wrong. You could not even reassure me about a bad grade, let alone about ending my life.
Rupi was right. We really do need to stop looking for healing at the feet of those who broke us. So I am done. Completely done. I tried and now I am done trying. Other people hear me when you will not, so I will not look to you. You gave me every reason to cut you out. You gave me exactly what I was looking for. What I expected. You may be my mother and you will never know how much I love you or how grateful I really am, because you simply do not listen. I do not measure up on your materialistic scale. This time, you were right. We should not talk. So goodbye mother, I am done with you.