As you have made abundantly clear, Mom, you believe I harbor feelings of hatred towards you. (Yes, you actually used that word, convinced that my absence is a reflection of disdain.) But here’s the truth: I don’t despise you. I long for the mother I once knew—the one who played with my dolls and shared laughter during our favorite shows. How could I possibly despise you? You are my mother.
However, I must draw the line here.
I am exhausted from hearing your endless excuses for your unreliability. Excuses for why you can’t be trusted behind the wheel. Excuses for your injuries or the bruises that tell a story I wish I could forget. Excuses about how your drinking habits are exaggerated and that you don’t rely on medication to get through the day when, in reality, you do consume too much and the pills turn you into a mere shadow.
I’m done with your fabrications. Lies about your drinking, lies about the pills you mix with alcohol, lies about your return home, lies about whether bills are paid, lies about the men you were unfaithful with while still married to Dad. Lies about your current partner, who is a con artist and likely the reason for those bruises. Lies that paint me as the villain simply because I choose to protect my children from your toxicity and deception.
I refuse to continue feeling responsible for your struggles. For too long, I wondered what I could have done differently to prevent you from seeking solace in alcohol. I endured your threats about suicide, believing they were somehow my fault. But your choices are yours to bear, not mine.
I will no longer accept the blame.
I did not create the series of poor choices that brought us to this standoff. I didn’t choose the alcohol, the deceit, the infidelities, or the traumatic words I wish I could erase. I didn’t opt for the reckless driving or the moments you wished for an accident to escape it all. I will not take on the burden of your actions any longer.
You’ve never sought help, and if it were up to me, you would have sought treatment years ago. You could have been a thriving member of a support group, actively working on your mental health with the guidance of a professional. But instead, you choose to ignore the impact your drinking and medications have on your life and the lives of others. You’ve brushed aside my pleas for you to get help.
So, I am choosing to walk away.
I cannot compel you to prioritize me or to become the mother I yearn for. I can only make choices for myself, and I choose to distance myself from your decisions. I prioritize my children’s safety over your toxic influence, ensuring they aren’t subjected to your verbal abuse or reckless behavior. I refuse to let you disrupt their lives or mine any longer.
I will focus on being the best mother I can be, even if it positions me as a “bad daughter” in your eyes. My children deserve a nurturing environment, and so do I. Until you commit to making genuine, lasting changes in your life, I will maintain this distance.
I cannot dictate your actions, but I can control my own. I choose to shield myself from the chaos you bring. I am determined to create a happy, stable home for my kids, and to do that, I must prioritize them (and myself) over you.
So, do I hate you? No. I feel sorrow for you. I mourn the relationship that could have blossomed. I genuinely hope you can find the help you need one day. If that moment arrives, perhaps both of us can reevaluate our paths.
For now, we will remain apart, and I refuse to bear the weight of guilt for that.
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Summary
This article expresses the heartfelt sentiments of a daughter grappling with the challenges of having a toxic mother. It outlines her struggles with feelings of guilt, blame, and the difficult decision to distance herself for the sake of her children. Ultimately, she seeks healing and understanding while wishing for her mother’s recovery.