I'm Scared

Dear Mom,

I guess first I should say I love you. Although this letter doesn't have a happy ending, I will always love you. My problems begin and end with you, yet I will always love you.

Is this just how you programmed me? Never stray from mother. Stay close, don't talk to these people. All the gaslighting, and manipulation. I know it doesn't make you happy. Otherwise, I wouldn't be scared to tell you, that I have no friends, can't hold a job, and can't socialize.

A phone call to my mother feels like pulling hairs now. Because I can't tell her I spend the day locked up in my apartment, that would make her disappointed. After all, my sister held a full-time job through college... Why can't I? Mamma's perfect boy.

Mother, I want to tell you so badly! I'm sad! I'm alone, I want I need! But I can't. I want to tell you so much. I want help! I cry out, but you don't listen. Scratching at the surface of my skin is all the problems, the way I feel. But I keep them bottled up.

That's what you taught me to do. I never felt anything through my high school years. Because I wasn't allowed to feel. In your eyes, a proper boy did as he was told. I went where you said, I did as you wished. Petrified to go against your will for fear of being shamed, and dragged out into the streets emotionally beaten.

HERE I STAND! A 21-year-old boy who can't decide what to eat, where to go, or who to be friends with. Without the mother's approval. The daily calls ending with me doing something wrong, how I messed up or need to do this or that.

I want to tell you! Mother, I ache to help you! This isn't just me, but both of us! Getting out of bed each day is a struggle, I have no ambition, no drive, nothing! You controlled me through my life, and then expect me to live on my own.

But that's not how life works. You don't get to manipulate and gaslight someone into submission, then expect them to go out into the world, hold a job, make choices and live. There are so many consequences, and I feel them every day.

Every day I long to do something fantastic. I want to write, I want to make music... But then your voice. It comes to me and reminds me that it won't make enough money. People who write are one in a million, better purpose something better. Can't you just hold a job?

No, mom. I can't. I was frightened to my core to tell you I quit my last job. Why? Because I basically had 2 panic attacks at work, and depression every day. I was overworked and needed mental help. But that didn't matter. I tried so many times to tell you how I was feeling day-to-day... And it didn't matter, you never listened.

Every time I would try and tell you that I was depressed or anxious. Anything! You would simply tell me "just go to work, it will be fine. Next shift will be better." Never listening! And the crazy part is, I listened! I tuned out my body trying to tell me something was wrong, that I needed help, and I just kept going.

You have so much power over me that I ignore myself! I don't even listen to my wants and needs. My dreams don't exist anymore! Trying to write, something I used to love, is so difficult now, because you've convinced me it's not worth it.

All of this came to me a few weeks ago from writing this. I tried to tell you mom that you gaslit me and manipulated me when I was growing up. Of course, that wasn't everything I wanted to tell you, because I was deathly frightened to say what was on my mind. But you didn't even listen to that, you deflected and told me I was making stuff up.

I'm still fascinated by how much control my mother has over me. I contemplate fleeing the country almost daily in order to keep our relationship intact. Instead of actually trying to fix me, and get better, I'm more concerned with keeping my mother pacified and happy.

Every day has become a mental struggle to find out who I am, where I'm going, and what I want to be. Making a meal without calling my mother for guidance first is a battle of the mind. I'm messed up!

I need help! I want out! I'm in a cage my mother has created to keep me tame and close to the family, being the "good" boy who always does what mummy wants.

But there is no one. I have no friends. No one in my family will listen. I'm totally alone. I finally found a therapist, but of course, my mother had to approve of them, and it was like pulling teeth. Because she doesn't believe in therapists.

I don't know if should be happy or frightened. Because I told my therapist everything, and she agreed with my revelation. I am a puppet child.

Mom! I want to tell you so badly! Oh, I want to cry out! I want to scream! To tell anyone. But I can't. I'm so frightened, I'm so scared, I'm terrified. Because if I say one thing you don't like, the manipulation begins. I'm a terrible child, I've sinned, I've done wrong, I should go to the Lord in prayer and be forgiven. All because I upset you, said something that burst your perfect child bubble.

Please, mom... Just listen... I only want to be heard... I want to be... Me.