My last two posts have been things that I have written in the recent past, attempting to learn from some of the things that I have been through with my family.  Sometimes it is hard to disconnect myself from that life, to choose to live freely as I believe I ought, rather than as others believe I should.
I still struggle with many of the things that were forced upon me, or that I "embraced" so that my parents would be proud of me. I still fight against the social machine that is the family.
It hurts to know that my mother believes that I am lying to myself, and in so doing am only hurting myself. It angers me also, I mean it pisses me off royally. She has not walked a mile in my shoes, she has never experienced the physical disconnect from "reality" that I have. She has never been in the position where she had to choose between change and death. I have.
On the other hand I hate that she has decided to take personal responsibility for my actions and my choices. She truly believes that if she had just been a better mother, if she had not been so controlling, I would not have "turned out this way". She can't see that I do not blame her for who I am today. If she had not been so controlling, I might have entered dialog with her about certain things before I became an adult, and maybe have been spared years of heartache, but I believe my choices would have been the same. Yes, I blame her for bad choices that she has made, and yes those choices do inform my decisions... but my choices are my own, made not to spite my mother, nor in spite of her... but because they felt like the right thing at the time. Some of those, I would take back if I could, but only a few.
I know my mother did the best she knew how. She truly wanted to see me grow into a mature adult, with goals and a purpose in life, but she sees herself as a failure because the mature adult she raised has found a purpose that is not identical to her own.