My Mother

I do not know why I never talk to her about how I'm feeling.

She really is the best mother I could hope for. She keeps the roof over my head and she always tries her best to relate to me. She never held me in an abusive relationship either. She's flawed, yes, but isn't everybody? 

Here's what I can decipher- I don't want her worrying about me. I don't want to make things awkward is another thing I'm thinking about. And another is that I don't want her hovering over me as if I'm a porcelain doll sitting on the edge of a windowsill, threatening to fall.

Do I hold any resentment toward her?

I remember the day when my counselor was informed of my self-harm. Of course, they contacted my guardians. They signed a contract where they literally have to. They didn't do it until after I left school. Nor did they inform me that they were going to do it. I had an aching feeling, but I didn't know they were required to. All I knew was I was hurting myself and I needed to talk to someone. I didn't want to watch my mom's heartbreak in real-time so I told the school counselor (hoping they could talk me through it without involving others). Coming home that day filled me with so much worry. Worry about what would happen next. I remember hearing my mom pick up the phone and start talking. I knew exactly what was happening so I waited on my bed patiently, fiddling with my phone to pass time. I heard quick stomps coming down the hall and I thought something along the lines of 'Alright, time to come clean.' There was no way out of it so I just faced it head-on. She opened my door, still on the phone, and twisted my arm around. There it was. The stupid deed I'd done. I watched her exit the room swiftly muttering an "oh my god." I don't remember much after that. But I remember her not talking to me for the rest of the day. I knew what I'd done. I broke her and I felt horrible. To this day I don't remember having a proper self-harm talk with her where I explained why I did it.

Sub-conscious is a funny thing. I picked up a hint of anger in her and I stored that hint deep inside me. I am now realizing I don't speak to her because she'd often become angry, speaking to me in a rushed tone.

I am only now starting to speak up and inform her that when she does that it makes me feel worse. This was not the first instance where she had met my depression with soft rage.

So, there it is... She's so lovely but I get it now... I sub-consciously resent her.