Am I the bad guy for wanting to leave home knowing that my mother can't be alone because of an illness?

I grew up with a single mother; I'm the second of three daughters. My older sister is 18 years older than me, and I'm only 2 years older than her. From a very young age, I felt rejected by my mother because she always wanted me to run errands, to leave the house while she stayed with my sister, or at least that's how it felt back then. Things didn't change much as a teenager, and when I tried to complain about actions that seemed unfair to me, like my sister only making breakfast after she'd already finished her homework, while I had to go to the store, help with laundry, and everything else because she'd already done something, no matter how significant it was, she just said I was exaggerating. If I refused, she would start throwing everything she did for me in my face: the food, the schoolwork, and so on. Many times I would go the whole day without eating, and she would complain, and I would end up apologizing.

When I grew up, things changed. Now she no longer hid it and admitted that my younger sister was her favorite. When my sister turned 18, she decided to live with her boyfriend, and I hadn't even reached the corner when my mom said, "Definitely, the child you love the most is the one who leaves the fastest." That day I went to cry in the bathroom. As you can see, I wasn't her favorite; it was obvious, but she already admitted it, so nothing I did for her was ever enough. Even when she had a hysterectomy for fibroids, I was with her for a month during her recovery, doing everything around the house, and she always said everything was wrong: too much salt, not enough sweetness, undercooked—everything had a flaw. One day they invited me to dance; we weren't going to be long. When she saw me come out, she said she was alone, as if I were just a figurehead. Everything I did was done in solitude, as she dreamed of saying, and it still hurt.

For several years, I struggled to find employment. You can imagine how difficult those times were. The fact that she provided me with housing and food was a constant reminder to my face. After the pandemic, I got a job in a call center, and things were going well until they sent me to work from home. No matter how many times I told her what my shifts were, she was always behind me making a fuss, and the warnings were constant, but she kept going. It seemed like she wanted to sabotage me.

I've been a devoted woman to others, including my mother. I've forgotten about myself, which caused me to lose a scholarship to study at university. So I vowed that I would stop being there for others and be more there for myself, and that included her. They say opportunities only come once in a lifetime, but I was very lucky that they came twice. In 2023, I received a scholarship to finish my degree. I made this commitment and wasn't going to repeat the same mistakes, so I was very clear with my mom: I would only continue with my medical studies if I had the time. This seemed to bother her.

It turns out that the scholarship came with a part-time job offer to cover household expenses, since up until then I was responsible for all the household expenses. I told her that now it would be more difficult and that we would have to cut back on some expenses since I wouldn't be paid the same anymore, something she seemed to understand. She covered the groceries with a government bonus, and I paid the utilities. It seemed like a sensible agreement. Even so, she blamed me for the groceries, telling me that if I wanted something, I had to buy it myself.

Things changed over time. As I approach the end of my degree, things get more complicated; the demands increase every day. Last semester, I would leave for class very early and then go to work. My job is from Sunday to Sunday, giving me two days off a week, which I use for studying. The real rest comes on holidays. On those days, I would try to rest, but she would be up as early as 5:30 or 6:00 a.m., making a racket with the pots and pans, yelling at the dogs, and then I couldn't go back to sleep. When she saw it was 9:00 a.m. and I hadn't gotten up, she would go to my room and, like a religious fanatic, bless me and pray for my "laziness." She would always invent chores out of thin air so I would help her on my days off. When I said no, she would say she was alone and I wasn't helping at all, and the arguments were always about that. She would make me look like a lazy good-for-nothing who was always feeding me, and I would try to make her understand. She told me that sometimes I didn't even have time for lunch, and that's why I didn't wash the dishes either, and that she should please let me rest.

But what finally broke the camel's back happened a month ago. In January, I usually work during the Valentine's Day season at a company that exports flowers, in the production area. It's a demanding and exhausting job, but I do it to have extra money to pay off a loan I have for a laptop and a cell phone, which are extremely important for finishing my degree. With this, the half salary I earn is enough to contribute more to the household. The woman was already acting very negatively towards 2026. On December 31st, we were praying to receive the new year with gratitude and hoping that this year would be blessed when she said to pray to get rid of her laziness. Very calmly, I said, "It's not laziness, it's tiredness." Those days I was on vacation from my part-time job and I was getting up late every day. It was the same old story, but I ask you, would you do something for someone who treats you badly, devalues ​​you and your feelings, and finally finds an excuse to say you're worthless? I wanted to rest, and my commitment to household expenses remained unchanged. When I started working in the flower industry, everything was going well until she stayed home. It was a Saturday, and I got home from work, as usual, with a sore back and burning feet. It was around 5:30 a.m. I was on the night shift. I lay down and slept until about 8 or 9 a.m., when she decided to turn on the stereo. I thought it was the neighbors' stereo, but when I woke up, I realized it was hers. I didn't say anything to avoid an argument because she always provokes me to push my buttons and end up saying I treat her badly and yell at her. She tells me she can't sleep, but she doesn't apologize or turn off the stereo. She finally did it at 5 p.m. when I was almost due to leave for work. She offered me something, but I answered her rudely, I admit it, but I was very upset about what she did. And from then on, if I wanted to sleep, I had to take advantage of it before she got home because afterward it was impossible. If it wasn't the stereo, it was the TV, and she always played everything at full volume. To avoid a fight, I didn't say anything and went out and bought an energy drink so I wouldn't be able to sleep because I could have an accident.

The following Thursday, everything exploded. I slept for three hours. In the morning, I went to get the dogs' food, which is always a long way away. I arrived home exhausted, with back and foot pain. I had to walk a long distance because they wouldn't give me change for a bill. She knew everything, and even so, she made up a story about me helping her with a job that requires a lot of physical strength and wasn't really necessary at that moment. When I told her no, without letting me explain, she left. Just as I was about to fall asleep, she came back, yelling and shaking the house, saying that her dog—a gentle, affectionate dog—had bitten the neighbor. When I asked her who, because I didn't see anyone, she pointed at nothing. I never saw a neighbor, nor was there a bite. She made it all up, apparently, to keep me from resting. Obviously, I was furious and yelled, "I definitely can't rest in this house!" She left and didn't say anything. When she came back, they said I had no right to say anything. Since then, I haven't spoken to her, and she started doing things only for herself. She no longer considered me, and if she... I once refused lunch because I had an accident and couldn't eat. I arrived home crying, and she didn't even ask what was wrong; she just complained about something else. Anyway, I started doing the same thing. I bought my own pots and pans and am preparing my own food separately, but she went and complained to my sisters and cried to them. My younger sister scolded me for not helping her. Now, every time I get home, it's a different insult. She even went to feed her rabbit once. I don't really know what happened; I just heard her say, "She's going to get mad too because I'm feeding her." I didn't fall for it and ignored her.

Now I'm looking for a place to rent. No one wants to live with this situation. It hurts because she's my mom, and many people tell me not to leave her because of her dizziness. They say if she eats sweets, she gets dizzy, or if she has heated arguments, she gets dizzy. And they say, "Who's going to help her if I'm not with her?" But what about my mental health? And that doesn't mean I'll forget about her; I'll always be there for her.

That's why I'm asking, am I the bad guy for wanting to leave home knowing my mom is sick?