Today is supposed to be a day of rest and recovery after a Christmas celebration collapse. I can hardly write, I can hardly stand up and I’m nauseous and dizzy. However, I have so many thoughts about my (undiagnosed autistic) childhood and my mom that I can’t rest.
My mom still thinks she has some sort of right to make decisions for me. This is ironic, because growing up she encouraged me to be independent. What I’ve realised is that she supports my independence now too, as long as it doesn’t mean that I question her truth about the world or about who I am. I let her help out with stuff sometimes but it’s becoming more and more obvious that for every time she “helps out” she expects some sort of power in exchange. Her help doesn’t have to be helpful, most of the times it’s stuff that I’ve never asked her to do, but she tries to help me (or at least she claims so) and then she is the expert and she gets mad when I don’t live my life as she wants me to.
She claims that she is very humble and listening, that she really adapts to my wishes. And she does. If you have the perspective that she is entitled to run my life, then yes, she is trying to listen. But my starting point is that where I live, how I spend my time, how I raise my kid – none of that is any of her business. I’m not interested in her opinion at all. I’m not interested in her interpretations of my health, my personality, my child or anything else. From this perspective she is crossing the line every time she sends me an email stating where she thinks I should live. Or every time she claims that she knows better than I do what my kid needs.
During my childhood, she hurt me so many times because she didn’t see that I wasn’t the daughter she thought I was. She called me resentful because I couldn’t let go of my anger when I was five. She called me too sensitive and told me I had to stop being so sensitive when I freaked out from the music from my brother’s room. None of us can change that now but when I see her still not understanding my kid’s sensory issues my patience is long gone. When she time after time claims that an activity she wants do to with my kid will work out just fine (even though it didn’t the last time) – I don’t know what to say. Because it doesn’t matter what I say. Because she is the expert, according to her.
I can’t stand this. I’ve had enough of people claiming that they know me and my kid better than we know ourselves.