My Dysfunctional Me

  As a kid my siblings would always say I was switched at birth, adopted or found in a dumpster because I looked more like my aunt, let's call her Mary, than our mother. My aunt told me she would spoil and spend more time with me rather than my siblings because she noticed my mom would neglect me. Mind you I never noticed any of it. Not mom's neglect nor my aunt doting on me but I guess my siblings did because they resent me for it. There is a theory that my aunt has about why my mother treated me like she did and continues to treat me differently. My aunt thinks it's because my mom got pregnant with me when she was 16 and instead of taking responsibility for her actions she blames me. 
 
 It got worse after my accident just before I turned 17. I had just lost my great grandmother and before that had just gotten to my ideal weight. I ended up sinking into a severe depression because I was stuck in a wheelchair and my mother kept acting like my personality change was something I could control. She kept saying she missed the old Amara, not my real name. I told her she's dead. She'd died in the accident. She doesn't seem to believe me and she knows I have PTSD but doesn't believe in any kind of mental health issues. It's actually pathetic since she has mental health issues herself. She has my daughter believing I am gullible and believe whatever my doctors tell me but I know what the truth is. 

When my daughter was about to turn one my dad died and a year later my mother married his best friend. The sad thing was he hadn't even been cremated before they started dating. I thought she moved on too quickly and when I told her so she informed me that she's been in love with him since the day she met him. That was back when I was 5 years old. That means she never loved my dad and everything I have known about my family was a lie. Even how my godfather, now stepfather, felt about me. 

 Sadly she kicked me out and I had to find the closest shelter to take me in. That shelter was four hours away and she refused to let me take my daughter with me. Although to be fair I was a little glad about that because I needed my baby to not be in a shelter. Before I left however my mom dropped me off at my therapists she informed me that she hated having me around and that I ruined her childhood. In my head I asked how? Did I tell you to open your legs and get pregnant before even being born? 

 My mom and I's relationship has only gotten worse since. We only talk when I have to ask her a question about family history and one of my aunts are not available. When we do talk nine out of the ten times we fight and it's horrible too.