I can’t tell when I’m being manipulated… and I can’t take the chance that this time it’s real…

He just called me during class.

I want credit.

No.

Please!

No.

But mum…

And so it goes… He starts chatting… telling me he’s a satanist and his friend is a necromancer… He needs to call his girlfriend because she hasn’t been at school this week and won’t talk to him… and last week she slit her wrists…

I can’t follow most of his chatter… most of it’s for show. He’s in class. His teacher is telling him to get off the phone. I know I should hang up on him. That’s supporting his teacher. Supporting the school rules. Teaching him boundaries. But… what if he just needs to talk. If right at this moment, he’s feeling a bit more lost than usual and he really just needs to talk to me right this second…

So I can’t hang up…

Somewhere in the garble, he tells me his dad is taking him to the GP later this week to get anti-depressants…. Ummm, who has diagnosed you with depression?! Of course I’m depressed mum… Honey, there’s so many other things that could be going on in your head, and it’s really important you have a full mental health assessment so they can find the primary cause and give you the right treatment…. Mum! I think I know whether I’m depressed or not. *Dad’s gf* went cause she’s OCD about cleaning so they gave her some pills and she’s good now….

OMG….

I am too far away. He’s 14. My head is spinning in a mess about this… If they give him the wrong medication and treat the wrong thing….

OMG…

How do you sit so far away and deal with this without going insane? Without having your heart shred over and over?

It’s okay mum… mum? Are you there? It’s okay… I just need credit… I need to call *my gf* and make sure she’s okay… Did I tell you I’m a satanist now? There’s a spirit looking over my shoulder. Protecting me. That’s why I didn’t fall. It’s four storeys – did you see that? Or three really – I was standing on the fourth. If I fell, I’d die… I was just hanging there by my arms, conquering my fears mum, you know I hate heights, scares the %$^ out of me… but this spirit is protecting me. Satan sent him… Mum? Can you send me some credit… please mum! I had a panic attack yesterday…. Can I smoke if I come stay with you? What about outside?… You know how you always say – you get more flies with honey mum? You don’t you know, you get bees. And did you know, you get more junkies with ecstasy… Please can I have some credit? No, don’t hang up… I really just want to talk to you mum… I want to live with you… Please can you move here? I won’t smoke in your house…

How did we get here?

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Don’t waste my time….

ddThis was ever my motto when I was younger, but I had forgotten it for such a long time, that it is no longer a habit. So I forget. I allow people to treat me as less than I deserve.

But I have realised, that I need to be kinder to myself. It’s okay to forget sometimes… to make mistakes… to allow people into my life who take far too much… to give far too much time and energy to people who just don’t give as much in return…

Because eventually, I do remember…. and when I do, the door is so much easier to find….

Mistakes

Why do I keep telling people the things that matter most? Why do I open my heart and bare my soul? Only to have them throw ridiculous alleged slights back at me when I am feeling most vulnerable?

I truly don’t understand why I keep making the same mistakes? I know that when I open up to people, I leave myself very vulnerable, where they are concerned. Yet… I do it time and again…

Then, they see a perceived wrong on my part. Something unintentional. Something I often can’t see even when they point it out. Before I know it, my heart is lying on the ground, crushed beneath trampling feet once more, as they backpedal so fast to leave the place they did not want to be.

So why do I do it? People don’t want to know your innermost thoughts. They don’t want you to open up. People don’t want what is real. They want the illusion. The pretense of the world they can handle. Nothing more.

How many times before I finally learn?