Unseen Battles: A Mother's Struggle With Misunderstandings

You said I have mental problems? That, in my supposed mental instability, I have somehow wronged you? I find myself reflecting on that accusation, mulling over our shared past, and I can't help but question it. In the web of our intertwined lives, was I too 'mental' to provide for you, to care for you, to stand up for you?

I recall the countless times I put aside my desires to ensure you had what you needed. Was I too 'mental' when I bought you a vape every other day, even though I knew the potential consequences? Was I too 'mental' when I took you to Pirates Bay, the zoo, Bucky's, and other places I could barely afford, just to see a smile on your face?

Was I too 'mental' when I bought you clothes that boosted your confidence, even allowing you to express yourself on the internet in ways I, at thirty-eight, could never dare to? Was I too 'mental' when I stayed by your side, day in and day out, enduring your teenage rebellions and the countless times you lashed out at me?

I remember how I let you indulge in your youthful indiscretions, allowing you to smoke pot and drink with your friends. Was I too 'mental' to let you explore your teenage years, make your own mistakes, and learn from them? Was I too 'mental' to provide for you and love you for fifteen years without any help from anyone else, not even your father?

Was I too 'mental' to keep a roof over your head for the past fifteen years while your father sat idly by? Was I too 'mental' to call and text you for sixty-two days straight while you ignored me, only to respond when I finally succumbed to negativity?

Am I too 'mental' because I battled suicidal thoughts while you walked out on me, only for you to call me crying about someone else's suicide? Or am I too 'mental' because I dared to ask you to do the right thing, to respect me, to talk to me like I'm a person?

You see, I gave you the confidence to stand on your own, to fight your battles, and face the world head-on. I made you the warrior you are today. Is that the result of being too 'mental'?

I loved you unconditionally for fifteen years, choosing you over my husbands, over my own needs. I allowed you to destroy me because I believed it was for your own good. Was that the result of being too 'mental'?

I treated you like a person, always being honest with you, sharing my struggles, and pains. Was I too 'mental' to expect the same courtesy from you? Was I too 'mental' to expect you to treat me like a human being?

You see, my dear child, I question this label you've placed on me. I question whether my actions and decisions, borne out of love and a desire to see you thrive, make me 'mental'. Or perhaps, it's just easier to label me as such, to justify your actions and absolve yourself of any guilt.

This is my journey, my struggle. A struggle that is often unseen and misunderstood. A struggle that is defined by misgivings and accusations. But in this struggle, I find my strength. I find my voice. And no label, no judgement, can take that away from me. My love for you is undying, and while you may see me as 'mental', I see myself as a mother who gave her all for her child.

IT TAKES GRACE TO REAMIN KIND IN CRUEL SITUATIONS.