When I returned to the UK last November, I was sure that I’d be able to put the past behind me to some extent, in relation to my upbringing. I thought that I’d finally be able to have a semi-decent relationship with my mum in her later years, as long as I could put the favoritism towards my 2 younger half brothers behind me. I thought that since the painful envy of others that I experience ends up following me wherever I go, that I’d have nothing to lose from returning to the source of most of the envy, but boy was I wrong. Needless to say, I now massively regret moving to Grantham in order to be geographically close to my mother. Not only has the geographical closeness to her proven to be highly toxic, but this town is a very bad place for someone like me, populated by mostly families and people who are highly conservative, so it is not somewhere I’d ever be able to fit in or make friends. I should have known that small towns anywhere tend to be awful places for anyone unable or unwilling to comform to the ‘norm’.
I have a bit of shame in admitting that my drinking problem has got worse, but nothing else numbs the pain or kills time. In a semi-drunken state, I launched into a texting attack on my mother, after she kept badgering me again about coming over to drop off 2 letters that I honestly don’t even care about. What set me off is her telling me she was worried about me, because I now that if she truly cared, she would address the issues of the past or even agree to talk to a mediator about addressing the issues from the past that are currently eating me alive, i.e. her favoritism towards her other children, her gaslighting and her attempts at manipulating me with guilt and emotional blackmail. Let’s just say that as always, it ended very badly. Throughout the heated exchange of words, she kept asking me what she was supposed to have done wrong, as if it’s some great mystery, She tried to emotionally blackmail me by saying “don’t you want to see the cats?” and she completely ignored pretty much everything I poured out to her about how upset I was that the formerly closest half brother had completely cut me out of his life and how difficult I was finding it to cope with all these demons from the past since I moved to Grantham. She doesn’t want to even acknowledge why he doesn’t talk to me, so I am left with having to internalize it as a form of rejection from a person who made me believe that he actually cared back in 2013-2015, aftet I came out as transgender and he seemingly embraced it.
The conversation ended with me telling her that I hated her and my 2 younger HB’s and blocking her. She sent her husband over to drop off my mail, which I heard him aggressively shove through my letterbox an hour or so later. I know she told him how much of a monster I am and when I accused her of doing such, she didn’t deny it and responded with “Well I must have learnt that from you”, to which I replied “More like the other way around”, being as she used to poison my mind by telling me what a horrible person my father was when I was just 7 years old and missing him after they split up.
Maybe I should have just sent her this list of examples of her favoritism instead?
Two-tier family (blog entry with my list of examples of parental favoritism I experienced in both childhood and adulthood)
I have decided to cut her out of whatever time is left of my life, permanently. I was completely wrong to assume that I had somehow got over the resentment I feel from the past and since moving close to her, it has become completely overpowering and has resulted in a return to the kind of binge drinking that I haven’t engaged in for over 5 years and I feel that I have completely lost control of my mind, having severed ties with the last 2 people that I was still talking to up until a few weeks ago. Perhaps I should have just stayed in Rochester, where I at least got to see a therapist every week and had at least limited advocacy and support, if I needed it. Perhaps I should have listened to my gut and to other advice from certain people who suggested that I moved elsewhere in the UK, rather than this town full of families and Brexiteers in the middle of nowhere.
I suppose it doesn’t matter now, does it? While I regret lashing out at my mum, it was bound to happen sooner or later, as this has been festering inside me for 20+ years. She is in complete and utter denial, so much so that it is impossible to get through to her in order for me to attempt to reconcile this mess and try to understand why it happened in the first place. Most of my childhood was essentially a lie, spent in a fake family setup with a stepdad who didn’t even want me and 2 half brothers who were better than me and were favored in just about every way possible.
I didn’t want it to end this way, being as I am not planning on being around much longer and as much as this hurts, I wanted to be able to forgive her and for her not to feel guilty after I’m gone. I will most likely never see Lily and Madge again….the last time I saw them was last weekend, when I spend the night at my mum’s house while her and her husband were away. I feel more heartbroken from missing the cats more than anything else. They’re my best friends and the only friends that I had left. This is just insanely awful on so many levels. I really need help, but there is no help. I wish I had someone to talk to that understands.