I care for you, but I have conflicting emotions towards you. I know that I should love you for all you’ve done for me. However, I am uncertain when I feel all the pain in me. I think a lot of that pain is from our strained relationship. I struggle with mental health issues, and I am afraid to tell you. I might never have the courage to speak to you about it; I am very sorry for that.
You are my mom, and I know that you care for me, my future… too much. You have spent so much time, money, dedication, and tears for me and my brother, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to show that much care and love for you in return. I am seventeen years old, and I already feel very ashamed of myself. I have had enough of my life – there is too much pain, sadness, and anxiety for me to bear. I wish I was never born. Yet, I will never tell you that I have suicidal thoughts. I don’t know what to say to you and Dad, who have given me life, when I am about to intentionally throw that gift away.
I am terrified of you and the way you do things, my childhood is filled with memories of being beaten, yelled at, criticized by you. One of my first sad memories was when I was 4 years old, you were yelling and hitting me, and I hugged my security blanket to find comfort, then you snatched it away from me and hid it. It might seem not a lot to other children who are also abused by their parents, but I was so mad, and I still flinch as I write about it. There are times that I just can’t think of a happy memory with you. I know you scold, punish, and hit me because you care, but it really damages me both physically and emotionally. You don’t understand how hard I am trying to get good grades, win a piano competition to meet your high expectations, hoping to gain more of your love and tenderness, but you never seem satisfied in anything that I do. An A is not good enough; second place is not good enough; 48 kg is too heavy… Your words hurt terribly, they break my heart into thousands of pieces. You don’t know that I already set high standards for myself, with the depression and anxiety heightening. I don’t want to be reminded that I am worthless, a failure every day. I feel enough of that so you don’t have to reiterate.
I know you get anxious a lot, too. I know you have sleep problems and take medication for anxiety. I hate to let you worry more with my own problems, so I choose to not tell you about my anxiety. You have enough to deal with and you are too busy worrying about money, me and my brother’s cram school schedules, our schoolwork… I feel like you are going to explode and overwhelmed with too much on your plate any moment. I want you to calm down and listen to me when I talk. Really listen intently without overreacting. You often overreact, either being angry and criticize me, or being too worried and ask too many questions. This is done out of your care for me, but I feel miserable as you are trying to dig out all the sadness in me. It also adds on to my own anxiety, when you are anxious for me.
I don’t trust you. I know how terrible it is to have no trust between mother and daughter, but it is painfully true. I don’t trust you with my negative thoughts and feelings. I know you are never going to accept that I have depression or anxiety.You deny that you yourself are anxious. You think people with mental illnesses are inferior, and I know you think that way by listening to you talking about depression, bipolar disorder, and schizophrenia… I want you to understand that having a mental illness or disability does not make people bad, it’s just that they need help in different areas in order to be successful in life. Having a broken leg does not turn someone into a bad person. That person needs help, and I think I need professional help with my anxiety. I don’t want to feel my shallow breath and rapid heartbeat whenever I’m interacting with people. I don’t want to leave class every other day because of sensory or thought overload. I don’t want to have panic attacks in every public speaking situation. I don’t want to go home seemingly motionless and apathetic to you because the anxiety at school drains my energy out…
I’m sorry for hiding so much, but I am also learning to protect myself from being hurt from you. Maybe it’s because I don’t have courage, I cannot face your words and abuse toward my sadness, my weaknesses. I cannot find support from you, but I am going to find it from other people. People who accept me for who I am, so that I can find my true identity within the chaos, my true identity is in Christ…
Mom, I choose to forgive you for hurting me, it’s very difficult for me to forgive, but that’s what God asks me to do. I want to forgive all the wrongdoings you’ve done on me, let go of all the anger and negativity. I pray that God will bless you. I pray that one day we can be reconciled in heaven, and I don’t need to mask my emotions in front of you anymore. I pray for that day of true joy, peace, and understanding of each other to come.