I really want to say this to my mother. I can't yet though.
Never forget, I love you. You are a great mother and I believe the goodness within me came from you. But I have something I want to say.
Three months ago, we had what must have been an unbearable conversation to have with your son on the phone. I told you what I thought had happened and you said you believed me. I was thinking about myself and didn't stop to think about what it would do to you. I can see over the last few years, you've gotten stronger, your confidence has grown and I hate feeling like I've smashed your progress.
When I asked you, you said who I thought it was without me mentioning it. I asked you WHY WHY WHY did you think it was that person? And you just said 'I dunno'. You get upset when I used to ask you things, you would break down over the slightest thing. And dont forget that innocent glass of wine you have, which used to be a bottle a night. I'm not judging, but I always wondered what drove you to drink. You're not exactly an alcoholic, and I have my own vice, but I think I know why that is.
You knew something, there was something different about me, but its hard to talk about. I understand that. But your denial has ruined me.
From believing me, it all of a sudden became a matter of mental health. You told me about people in the family who were depressed and you told me how many times my grandmother tried to kill herself and then you tried to say depression was genetic. It's not genetic.
You went on to suggest maybe I had aspergers. Perhaps I had autism or schziophrenia. I'm not autistic and I'm not schziophrenic. I even got tested to prove it.
You told me "Depressed people have a way to draw people into their fantasy". Maybe I have created this fantasy and have put this all on myself, for what? You're attention? You're complete undivided attention and love which you have given us all anyway?
I cannot live like this.
I don't want to leave this world and have you blame yourself because you didn't listen.
I have never admitted the suicidle tendancies to anyone, because it's nothing new. It's been on my mind for so many years, that it's just part of my day and I'm not even sad about it. I just think about it.
My worry is if one day, if I have the courage to actually do it, you would blame yourself and ruin yourself further, because you would think it was because of something you did. If that ever does happen, know it's nothing you've ever done or could do.
I've told everyone I don't think that way and I would never do anything. But that is a lie, a white lie told to protect you from worry you do not need.
I'm looking ahead, but the past is hanging on for dear life, I cannot let it go until I have everything clear.
I cannot look after you anymore. I need you now. I remember always nursing you're self doubt and you told me things that bothered you. But I never talked about things that bothered me, because of what it did. And now I have, I wish I never told you.