Fuck off

So, my mother just called to chat.

"Hey, how's it going?" she asked me. I told her I was ok and she proceeded to ask the kind of questions that are thrown around during small-talk.

She tells me she misses me. She tells me she loves me. But apparently, if she says I'm out of the family, I'm out. She kicks me to the curb, throws a million middle fingers my way, and then talks to me like none of it happened.

I don't understand any of this. I'm so frustrated and confused! How do you tell me to fuck off and then proceed to ask me how I'm doing?!

For the past 5 months I've been put through this torture. Back and forth from vicious emails and phone calls to random check-ins. Ya know, just to say, "hey!" I can understand that my parents miss me and love me and all that crap. But I still don't get how they could force me to compromise my identity, silence me, push me away, and then confess their love for me.

"Because we're family," my mother attempts to answer my question. Because she's my mother, she loves me, and perpetually confuses the shit out of me. And, of course, because I'm her daughter I must do the same. But I don't want to, damnit. I never asked for any of this. My love has standards. I need to feel comfortable and safe to express that. Is honesty, comfort, and safety too much to ask for?

How am I supposed to deal with two confused parents who don't know how to explain to me that they love me, but sure as hell know all the right ways to tell me to fuck off? How am I supposed to help them and encourage a better relationship among all of us if I can't even bring any of the problems up without my mother ostracizing me? Why would I even want to in the first place? I have no happy image of our "family" (whatever that means) to hold on to or even want to create with them. All I want to do with them is yell at them, maybe spank 'em a few times and send them to a counselor with a coloring book and some crayons.

I'm ashamed that I'm so angry at them. And I hate how my mother spits in my face by being nice to me. Especially after she tells me I'm not allowed into the house to get any of my stuff and I have to threaten to call the cops. Where does this niceness come from? Is it to spite me or does she really feel it? If she loves me so much why can't she fucken be consistent with it?!

My mother's niceness makes me second-guess all the work I've done this past year to try to make big changes in all our lives. I've asked my parents to go to counseling and deal with being abused and being abusers. I've told them that I'm unhappy with them, that I'm angered and sad by the way I've been treated. They tell me there's no point. They tell me I'm overreacting, I'm making stuff up. They tell me to fuck off.

My earliest memory in life is watching my father shove a used, wet paintbrush in my mother's mouth when she was pregnant with my younger sister. I can't make that shit up. My father beat me. I can't make that shit up. My father ignored me for the entire month of December. The only time he spoke to me was to threaten my life and try to kick me out of the house. I can't make that shit up.

Ya know what, mom, if you can't be nice to me AND help me heal by acknowledging, pledging the rest of your life to making sure that none of this ever happens again, then YOU can fuck off.