The eternal feeling of grief, the pain that sticks

"carbs carbs carbs" my mother taunted as I was cooking my grilled cheese.

Every time she walked upstairs from her at home 9-5 job, I was in the kitchen just waiting for her to say something, to take the things that made me happy and just crush them in her palm, to laugh at me and say that i'm just being sensitive.

Mother why couldn't you just love me?

My mom (we'll call her Ava because I don't feel comfortable calling her mother in a place where I can be myself) Ava is a 50 year old lady who is a person that says one thing and does the other, says she has a healthy relationship with food then binges on her favorite "unhealthy foods", the type to say she's 2 sizes smaller than what she actually is and having to suck into her clothes.

As I grow older (I am 17) I continue to realize how much she's hurt me and how much pain I will have to endure from all the trauma she's given me as I grow into adult hood (my birthday is October 1st woo!) and how all of her "helping" me will actually leave a negative stamp on me. I remember countless nights of me crying and pulling my hair out because I "couldn't be normal", from people telling me I'm different, sensitive, and having a bad temper.

I always asked myself why couldn't the people I lived with just leave me alone.

I would always ask my mom "can you just leave me alone" and she always took that personally "no I can't leave you alone i'm you mother" "so you want me to never say anything to you""so you never want me to say anything about your food" "no"

I want it to be known that I used to live a relatively good life on the surface, supportive biological dad (we will call him Will) that supported me with becoming vegan and doing online school (until we were in arguments) and a good allowance, and Ava who was a typical mom that "saved the day with a chill dad". but when it came to emotional stuff Will was more trustworthy when it came to my emotions, but that wasn't by much because he tended to use those emotions against me and thats what I hated the most.

Sometimes whenever I am rude to Ava, I feel guilty after. one side of my head is saying that it was deserved and you have a right to feel upset with her and the other side of me is saying that "this time" she wasn't AS mean so there wasn't a need to be rude to her. usually I like to think that the reason I feel guilty is because i'm not a psychopath so I have a reason to feel this way, other times I think its because I am a psychopath that shouldn't feel remorse to her and that i'm surprised I haven't gone mad yet (well it depends on what "going mad" is to you).

I feel like usually she knows how much she hurts me and her other children but just doesn't want to show it because of a wall she's built up for over 30 years (her oldest Is 31 right now) and that she's engraved into her head the saying "conceal don't feel"

Sometimes I want to understand her situation and other times I feel as if she shouldn't bring her own trauma onto her innocent children that didn't know anything but to love her, so I only tend to feel pity for her....sometimes. I've always been a day dreamer of fictional lives I will live, whether that was of my with adopted children or ones where im in a big house with a panther as my best friend but I always wonder how I will actually be in the future and how the trauma and baggage will affect me in my adult hood without her (if she doesn't decide to change)

I feel bad for my moms other children because they had to deal with all this for a lot longer than I have but at the same time I feel annoyed with them because while they might have tried to get her to change, they don't approach the things differently and as much as I would love to try those things so she stops hurting more people, I can't stick around and keep on letting her treat me like this.

this story took a lot to finish but i'm glad I started it.

thank you all for listening.