#i am begging her to take advantage of our disability leave benefits and just get the fuck out for 3-6 months

[hungerpunch]

i have never formally, officially been a people manager before but one thing i know about me is that if i were managing a tiny team who were up against a mount everest-scale of work with an actually impossible deadline, i would probably kick off our monday morning meeting by hyping them up and making sure everyone is as supported as possible rather than, uh, shitting all over them and complaining and demotivating them. idk! just. a personal choice

[maisstories]

I must say I love it when life just kicks you in the face.

I’ve felt I should give you guys an explanation about what has been going on in my life to justify my delays for a while and, after what happened today, I definitely want to say it. I won’t lie; part of it is me selfishly wanting to get it out of my system.

So, drama under the cut.

As I’ve mentioned before, I am a disabled person. This is not the most important factor in the story, but I feel it’s the linchpin that’s allowed things to reach the current situation.

I’ve always been an oddball. I’m not saying this as some form of self-deprecation, but a fact. I am disabled, but my eyes can’t remain properly focused for long, which I’ve been informed is creepy; I have trouble reading body language and understanding certain tones of voice (I had to figure out and teach myself sarcasm when I was 12 because I just didn’t get it); I am above average in intelligence, raised by parents who believe knowledge is important and somehow relevant in defining a person’s values; I am a nerd, was a nerd in a time before manga and other such things began to leak into mainstream; I am an introvert, and generally speak in a low voice unless I am very comfortable with the people I’m with; I am also exceedingly enthusiastic when dealing with a topic I am passionate about, to the point of being obnoxious and not knowing when to shut up.

All of the above, combined, meant it was very difficult for me to make friends, and when I did, it also meant I was easy to dislike by anyone new and would miss the signs that things were amiss until it was too late. Due to a series of circumstances that are irrelevant now, by the time I was 19, I had one single friend, no prospects of a future, and was struggling with university because putting that much effort into something you see no point in is frankly difficult. I veered into suicidal ideation a few times out of sheer apathy.

This situation, sans the depression, was something my mother latched onto. She’s a very controlling person, an alcoholic (which she refuses to admit to because she doesn’t do hard drinks, but what else do you call a person who downs three beers on a normal morning and has no trouble drinking an entire bottle of wine the same day while she’s in treatment for heart and blood pressure conditions?), and sadly we have enough in common (like a love of history and cynicism) that she could project onto me easily. She always accepted my brother would one day leave the nest, so to speak, but my lack of any significant relationships meant she could convince herself I would always stay home with her. For years, this belief increased while I sank into a deeper depression. She kept making plans and more plans about things we’d do together once she retired, and I didn’t bother to contradict her because there was nothing else for me. I got to the point of thinking I’d hold on while my parents lived and then just... Well, the idea was to spend whatever money they left me on as long a trip as possible, then down all the meds left in the house.

Then I met Kari, my girlfriend, and we became friends. And I know this will sound cliché as hell, but I slowly started wanting things. Wanting a life, making plans for the future, and generally started to look forward to things. My mother, who is a very observant person, figured out I must’ve met someone. At first she liked the idea, thinking she’d integrate Kari into the fold and I’d have someone to “take care of me” when she was gone. That’s something neither of us would stand for, and my mother started to figure it out. My stress levels skyrocketed shortly after my mother discovered I was in a relationship, because she kept going on and on about all the many ways she could help Kari come over to Spain (she’s from the U.S.) and make room for her at home, help her get started here... because she’s such a great and loving mother. But I couldn’t shut out the caveats I know come with such offers (staying at the family home, letting my mother make all the important decisions for us) and I decided evasion was the best tactic, because I knew no one at home would back me up if I confronted her (I learned this from experience: she rules, she controls everything, and we have to bow our heads and obey).

Things have been growing steadily worse since we were quarantined back in March, and this summer has been positively hellish.

Today she decided she wouldn’t settle for me trying to change the topic, and blew up at me, angry that I keep refusing to accept her offers when “all I ask in exchange is love”. She decided I must not love her, am selfish and my wanting to live up north means I want to flee from her (when I want to move because the climate here is too hot and kills me, and Kari isn’t fond of hot climates either so we’re in agreement), and clearly I intend to take advantage of her and then cut all ties with the family.

So she told me that if I won’t accept her “love” then she wants me out of the house by next August. She gave me August as the deadline because that’s when Kari’s rent contract expires, and also because, I’m pretty sure, she wants me to fret, panic, fail at finding an alternative, and then go back to her begging for her help.

I am looking into alternatives, but there is a problem. Well, several.

To start with, I have never worked before. Why? Because having a disabled daughter living with them gives my parents tax benefits and a bit of extra monthly income, which they’ll lose the moment I start working. So they’ve always discouraged me from finding a job “until I can get something definitive”.

I don’t have a bank account, which is necessary in Spain for pretty much anything, because in this house we’re not allowed to have a bank account that isn’t hers as well.

She has all my legal documents save for my ID. I’ve gotten my hands on a few copies over the years, but she keeps all the originals and everything from my passport to my health insurance card.

I was barely allowed to go out on my own before COVID, but now it’s much worse, because she’s gotten authorization to work from home.

I’m not even allowed into the doctor’s office without one of my parents there with me. That’s never been outright stated, but the few times I’ve tried to keep her out, I’ve been subjected to some extremely aggressive guilt-tripping.

So, all in all, life sucks right now. I’m not giving in to her demands, and am looking into everything I can to find a way out of this that doesn’t turn me into a virtual prisoner. This includes doing my best to write as much as I can, because the only thing my mother doesn’t have control over is my PayPal account and so Patreon is the only way I can make some money right now. Still, I don’t know how my mood and energy levels will be over the next few months, nor how often things will go wrong. So I can’t say how constant I will be. I’ll do my best, though.

That’s it. I’m done ranting. Thanks for reading, if you made it this far.