This couldn't get any worse

Moms, am i right

6:30 pm

"Why can't you just talk about it."

"Because I don't have to."

"It's just so amazing to know that my mother wants me to stay living such a fu**ed up life."

"You watch your mouth."

"Are you joking. Me telling straight facts is an issue, but not me being mentally unstable. I WANT HELP!"

"I don't want you to be sick."

"Yea cause I definitely chose this."

"That's not what I'm saying. If we go and they say you have depression or PTSD what am I gonna do. You're gonna be gone at that point. You won't be my-"

"I won't be your what? Your perfect little daughter. Regardless of whether we go or not, I am not okay. I really hate how you've changed."

"Changed?" She asks as if I just punched her in the stomach.

"Yea as soon as I got out of the hospital you changed. You went to work nonstop. You never made time for us-"

"I never had time." She interrupts

"And that's a prime example of you turning into a pretentious b*tch."

And then I'm staring sideways at the counter. She slapped me. This fu**king hypocrite just slapped me. I look at her shocked. She's never laid a hand on me or my brothers.

"I bet you got a fu**king kick out of that, didn't you mom." I spit and walk away.

"Where are you going? I never said this conversation was over."

"What conversation? The one where you told me I was faking all of my emotions and dreams. Seemed done to me when you backhanded me." That sure shuts her up. Only for a few seconds till she goes rambling on about how rich people can't have mental issues. Her argument was literally that people with money have nothing to be worried about. Like emotions much Ma.

My dreams haven't stopped, they've actually gotten worse. It's only repeats of those two dreams though, me sitting on a stool and then the one with me hiding in the bathroom.

I walk into my room and head straight to my closet. She follows me the whole time. I grab two duffel bags and throw them on my bed. I start grabbing clothes.

"What are you doing? You can't move out. What are you gonna do, live on the street?"

"I'm packing to stay with Liv for a little bit. I can't be around you when you do stuff like this."

"Like what? Be a good mother."

"No, be a hypocrite who doesn't do anything but invalidate my emotions."

"You're fine."

"I really thought you'd understand me a little bit more." I scoff

"What are you talking about?"

"You know how it feels mom. To be heartbroken..."

"Sophronia."she warns

"To be left..." now she's marching my way.

"You have no rig—"

"TO LOSE THE PERSON WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO LOVE YOU THE MOST MOM." Her eyes are bulging out of her head. At this point I'm screaming.

"YOU KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE TO FEEL LIKE YOU LET THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE WORLD DOWN."

"TO FEEL LIKE A MURDER. LIKE YOU WERE WEAK. LIKE YOU DIDNT TRY HARD ENOUGH." I try to make myself calm down. I take a few deep breaths, but she still doesn't say anything.