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Just when I felt like one last session with my therapist is enough, something from the past cropped up.

A couple of years ago, I desperately wanted to see a therapist because I was going through a tough time dealing with my mom. My upbringing haven’t been a positive one – in fact, the bad memories outweigh the good ones. When I was young, specifically my sister and I would bear the brunt of my mom’s anger. My brother would occasionally be punished too, but he will always be mommy’s boy and he could do no wrong. We were beaten, criticized and ridiculed at a young age. My sister was lucky because she would only come home at night because of the activities she was involved in. I was home most of the time so I suffered under my mom’s sudden angry outbursts.

For as long as I remember, I always feel anxious when I’m home because my mom could explode at any moment. I get in trouble for things I never do just because she misinterpreted my words or actions. She would find fault with me for the smallest things. Living at home with her around felt like walking on eggshells. I was constantly on high alert watching for signs if she would explode and would always watch what I said or did in cause it was misconstrued.

Anyway to cut the story short, for the past year, it had been blissful – for me at least. When she was diagnosed with cancer, all of a sudden she had a different perspective on life. She was a much nicer person to people in general. She was more forgiving of my shortcomings, could take my teasings without misinterpreting them and we had more meals and shopping time together than before. However, at the back of my head, I’ve always felt like “Can I really trust that she has changed for good? Or will I be expecting the same old her the moment things got better for her?”.

My assumptions had been correct all along. Recently her doctor told her that although she is not entirely free of cancer, her health is much better now. I’ve been seeing this same old her emerging but last few days confirmed it. Like the many times she have blown up at me, this time round it was no different. It’s that same misinterpreting my action and then blowing everything out of proportion…and worst of all is that, I was clueless as to what I did to offend her until all that dirty garbage started spewing from her mouth. And just like the other times, I was like OMG WTF SERIOUSLLYYY??!!

I find that anger rising in my chest all too familiar.. that feeling like I could lose control and hit someone so that that person can feel the pain that I’m feeling inside. Harsh words can cut us like knife and leave an emotional scar for life and I feel like I carry them since childhood. To me, what’s worse is when she starts to swearing and referring to one of my close friends as ‘prostitute’ (when the irony is that, her son did the same thing too!) and started saying like ‘you like licking her pussy’ just because I was all praises for another close friend. She said a dog is better than me and I am a fake for pretending to practise my faith when in fact I’m not – All these, unrelated to why she was angry at me in the first place!

If there’s a first prize for the ultimate horrible piece of sh*t, it has to be this- she cursed me to die in a car accident. And that I’ll never be safe living in another country. WTF IS THIS KIND OF MOTHER YOU TELL ME?? I have resigned to fate that if this is the way I’ll die, then I hope that GUILT WILL EAT HER UP ALIVE.

I know I need to chill about now.. I see this as a blessing in disguise because then this is a dire issue which needs to be addressed now rather than shoving one corner and addressing it later.

I just don’t know when I’ll see my therapist next…I hope by then I don’t blow up and do something stupid.

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