My Choices Are Always Wrong

I'm 26. I live with my mother because the man I was with decided to cheat on me with multiple people, and I had enough, but I'm not well off, so I moved back in with my mother. She takes care of my mentally disabled nephew and babysits my other sister's children, so I thought I could stick around and help her when I could. I moved in with her the December before the pandemic, and I have suffered from some mental health issues, so I was out of good work for quite a while (I've gotten a great job now with benefits, so that part is looking up!). I was talking to a therapist for a few months, but because of a health issue I had, I wasn't able to afford the last two months to talk to them, and I don't have very many people who won't judge what I'm about to type based on who I am, rather than what I'm going through.

This is the third time this has happened, all about different things, but me asking the same thing and getting the exact same response. I just don't know what to do, because I'm not in the wrong. I know I'm not, but I'm getting so tired. I don't know how else to go about it, or if I am actually in the wrong. I accidentally watched something that triggered a bad anxiety attack last night (I didn't think it was something that was going to affect me, because I was told it wasn't a bad video, but it was a bad video), but I was able to keep it on the lower side. However, keeping the anxiety at as low a level as I can, means that it's dragging on to today. So today of all days is of course the day when my mother brings up every little thing that will stack onto my current anxiety. She started today with a video that wasn't terrible, in fact, it was a great video. It was a dog that was rescued and was holding onto the fireman who saved it after being trapped for 3 days wherever it was trapped. However, I of course thought about where the dog could have been trapped and why it was trapped, so it did bother me more than it would other people. Because I guess I think the worse things instead of being happy that the dog was rescued (which it was but it's the fact the dog was trapped for some unknown reason in an unknown place for 3 days). Then she talked about how a man aimed a gun at a K-9's head point blank, but it turns out that someone still-shotted a piece of the video, and the dog was tackling the person as the person was taking the gun out to aim at the officers not the dog. (I have a very soft spot for animals, can you tell?) So, the dog and officers were okay, but the man of course succumbed to the wound he got as a result of aiming a gun at police officers. (Got a thing with death, btw, very triggering for me.) Then my mother decides to tell me about some football player whose wife left him because he chose football over her and his family. Apparently, the man even said while taking care of his kids that he would rather be playing the game then taking care of them. Well, I have an absentee father in my childhood. So, call me a snowflake, but I really didn't want to hear about some kids not being important to their father when I'm already trying to stave off an anxiety attack for 24 hours already.

I could have had more tack. I should have, but this was the third time (spread out over two months) I've explained that I would really prefer my mother to not tell me about certain events because they make my anxiety worse. So, I placed my face in my hands and asked her to please not tell me anymore about the football guy (I recognize the name, but neither of us are fans, so I don't know why she was making it as big of a deal expect for what everyone assumes about him choosing the career he had retired out of over his family). I told her "I really can't hear any more of this depressing shit". I didn't scream it or yell, I calmly said it, I swear. She then got up gathered her things and said she was going to bed.

The last time she did that, I followed her and asked what was wrong (because who goes to bed at 18:30?!) and she said she has no one else to talk to about anything, and now I'm telling her she can't talk to me about anything now. I had explained that it was just certain things I really can't handle hearing about. I can't hear about kids or animals being mistreated or abused. I can't hear about people being held down and beaten, I can't handle hearing about people being killed. My therapist said it's mature of me to know my triggers and to explain it to others that I prefer not hearing about certain topics.

Was I really in the wrong to keep asking my mother to please stop telling me about all the depressing stuff she reads? She should honestly avoid them, too, in my opinion, if they make her feel so bad she wants to share it to others. I know my language was wrong when talking to her, but is it so wrong to not want to hear about my triggers when I've asked her twice before?