On loving too much & mommy

It is 12am, I tried to go to bed, and instead I laid for an hour with my heart hurting and beating so fast and so loudly that you could probably hear it. I stayed like that for an hour, hoping I’d feel better or fall asleep first and it got so loud and there was so much pressure in my head that I couldn’t take it anymore and I got up.

I expect things from people. I want my loved ones to notice when I’m sad or anxious or angry. I want people to pine for my affection or at least notice when it’s withdrawn. I want people to notice that I am giving them the silent treatment without announcing that HI I AM GIVING YOU THE SILENT TREATMENT STARTING NOW.

I love too much and too unconditionally. I’d like to think there is no such thing as loving “too much” and that unconditional love can never be a bad thing. I’m a hopeless romantic. Gross, I know.

I invest too much in people who don’t return even 50% of what I give. I jump through hoops and burn bridges for friendships and relationships that end up burning me and I pretend that this is normal, I’m supposed to feel alone, this is my fault, I need therapy.

When I did go to therapy, he liked talking about my mom. I quit therapy because I hate talking about my mom. The cliché is that mommy didn’t love me very much. Or rather, and this is probably why my personal relationships suck so badly, mommy stopped loving me. Mommy stopped caring how my day was. When I told mommy I was being bullied, she told me to go away. Mommy stopped buying groceries. She stopped noticing that I didn’t practice for a while, then yelled at me to stop practicing because it was giving her a headache. Mommy made me skip my last concert of middle school that I practiced so hard for because I had a solo. And she never apologized. Mommy thought I was suicidal. I was just self-destructive and I learned to hide my tendencies better. Mommy stopped wondering if I was fed at the end of the day. When I went away to college, mommy stopped talking to me. She stopped reading my messages. She sold, gave away, threw away all of my stuff. My grades plummeted. She gave me panic attacks. I told her that she gave me panic attacks and she changed the subject. I told her that I had to be medicated just to sleep at night and not break down in the middle of class and she changed the subject. She lied and lied and lied and lied to me. She stopped acknowledging me in person. She stopped checking in on me to make sure that I was alive. She stopped monitoring my bad decisions, which only got worse.

When I told Mommy that I was sick of giving her unconditional love only to have her take, and take, and take, when I told Mommy that I was sick of being teased at school for being so skinny and not eating when in reality we could only afford food for Mommy, she threw me against the wall, choked me, punched me in the face several times and I had to skip school the next day because my cheek was swollen. Mommy wouldn’t speak to me for three days because Child Protection Services came to her job and it’s all my fault.

I am convinced that everyone is constantly lying to me because of mommy. Mommy never taught me how to drive because she couldn’t stand to be around me, but she taught my cousin how to drive. Mommy stopped taking me to the movies. Instead, she took other people. Mommy started loving people and stopped loving me. Mommy makes me think that I am unlovable.  Whenever anyone shows me any kind of positive affection, mommy assures me that it’s not real, that I am going to ruin it, or she alienates me from them so that it crumbles.

When people tell me that I should forgive her, it makes me angry. I’m angry because I never held it against her and it still sucks. Forgiveness doesn’t magically make me trust people. It doesn’t make me stop crying all the time. It doesn’t make me stop expecting people to love me and give things back. I give unconditional love and support to people and I feel empty. I feel deprived and like I’m being stolen from. I feel lesser and unequal and I am terrified that they will all stop liking me the way mommy did. It feels exhausting to be the only person to take care of me while simultaneously dropping everything to take care of everyone else. I hate that I am forgotten. I hate that my feelings can be forgotten and ignored and pushed aside. I hate that everyone is always more important than me. I hate that I can’t forget people or ignore them like they can me. I hate that I have to constantly work for people’s affection, and somehow I remained the unloved lover.

I should probably go back to giving everything before you notice that I’m gone…

 

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