earlier this morning, I made my rounds to check in with my mother downstairs as she’s marking nearly 4 years of Working from Home. Checking in to verify if we were going to do the lunchtime errands.

Then she just stared at me with some strange sympathetic. or some long face.

I think I asked if she was OK and said she didn’t have breakfast yet.

(she never has good breakfast anyways.)

I told her as a matter-of-a-fact I was going back to my bedroom and start with my work.

There is this pop-psych description of the Only Child Syndrome that means an only child is highly more entitled and spoiled. I feel the complete opposite, I feel like I am more dependent on others and be the only hierarchal child to be carrying loads that is crushing me to death.

My life has been full of challenges, just as I pivot back to sanity, COVID-19 happens, and as I try to recover from being at home and dealing with other challenges during this crisis, who knows what could be happening next. Meanwhile I feel like I am carrying the weight of my mother, in inappropriate ways (meaning I am carrying loads not to my reasonable abilities) and the people around me know this is a bit beyond reasonable.

Then I ponder, why do I feel like I am the problem? I feel like a vulernable narcissist? Why do I still feel like I am broadcasting my historical resentment? Then I rationalize that the past keeps repeating itself like a feedback loop the supports from Londonderry knew my mother (without even asking concrete confirmation) that they knew I was going to be her dependent, and perhaps as a backdoor, they taught me sympathy through my mother’s challenges. It’s the barter part of the relationship they help built.

I so want to break this. I cannot be responsible for my mother choosing to not having breakfast maybe because she “didn’t feel like it”. Likewise, she shouldn’t be feeling for me if I am sad. If I want to be sad, and she can’t deal with it, well sorry that’s being a human!

To this day, I still feel angry at the situation and worse to myself of why I was chosen to be part of this family. I still question why am I always the one that has to take the responsibility of others but I am expected to be accountable when others don’t do the same?

As so many special-needs-pick-me-moms would say “I want my child to die before I do”. Well some days, I want my mother to burry me. Exploiting my higher functioning abilities to be forced to feel for others, is a really inhumane thing.

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