Here I am at my mom's again . . . and as I was expecting, the normal trouble flares up - she wants me to do a ton of stuff around the house that simply doesn't seem worth being able to stay here. She wants me to get up insanely early and do yardwork, she wants me to vacuum (this will not mean anything to people who have not seen my house. quick summary: asthmatic eclectic collector with cats. this house has more corners than some houses have bricks. vacuuming can take an hour easy, and then it's at least an hour of her scouring the house and pointing out spots I missed.), she wants me to do . . . well, a lot of stuff. In return for things I don't ask for - for example, she got me up and drove me to my dentist appointment. I don't know why she did that, I certainly didn't ask her to, she just sort of decided she was going to. I thought it was precursor to shopping trip or something - sheesh, mom, I could have taken the bus. And she takes this as an example of All She's Done For Me and Why I Should Go Out Of My Way For Her, when all things considered, it really didn't make much difference to me that she drove me.
So eventually we end up talking about it, and what it all comes down to is that we aren't used to each other and that we should readjust. Which she says she'll try, and I say I'll try, but . . .
Here's the thing. This happened more than once before. And I did try, the first time or two, and my memory tells me that nothing whatsoever changed. So I started building defensive walls. It was all I *could* do, it was what I needed to survive. The Bad Years. When I had no less than five plans for running away so she couldn't find me, and when I knew several ways I could kill myself if I needed to, and was perfectly serious about all of it. In fact, once I was literally one day away from leaving - I was *packed* I was so ready. (one camping backpack.) With one place to go to, maybe, and two or three that I was prepared to beg my way into if I needed, though I never needed to test those friendships to that extreme.
And, yes, I block her out. I had to. When a simple response can easily yield getting screamed at for fifteen minutes, yeah, you end up being careful not to ever say anything. I *know* I did this, and I know I had reason for it.
And now she's asking me to break these walls down again, and she says she'll do the same, and I know she's lied to me before, quite often. I know she forgets promises, I know promises don't mean as much to her. (And, with regards to her, they don't mean as much to me, due to all those times she forced me to promise things I knew I couldn't promise.)
So what can I do? Can I just say "yeah, okay, I'll try" and not do anything? Can I say "okay", break down those carefully constructed walls that basically only exist for her anymore, and risk getting my mind damaged yet again? (No. I can't risk that. I'm in a bad enough shape right now that that sort of thing could be fatal. And I don't know what my defense mechanisms would do in that case - they might block out the few people who could help me also. I cannot risk that.) Or should I just go off to my dad's house again?
Or maybe I should show this to her, and show her what I've been through, and maybe she'll understand and really promise this time . . .
except that how would I know?
Once during the Bad Years, we had fought about something. I forget what. And she went off to sulk. And because the only thing I could think to do was try to tell her what I was feeling, but I knew she'd just yell at me again, I wrote her a note. (notes are wonderful things - the receiver basically has to read the whole thing, because they'll have to make an effort to get in contact with you, and not having read the entire note at that point just looks bad.) And I said stuff like this really hurts, I wish you'd keep your promises, etc etc. I think. I barely remember. And she gave me the kind of formulaic answer you'd expect (also in note form), well, why should I, I don't believe you're in really bad shape because (list of things she's angry about), etc. etc. etc. And I responded with "because I'm seriously considering killing myself, and I don't know how long I can hold on."
And she didn't respond, and when I asked her about it later, she yelled at me for trying to guilt-trip her.
So what do I do? . . .