More Than Words Can Say

I never had a problem with my mother until I started getting older and I started seeing her for who she really was. By the time I was 15 we were constantly at each others throat. She lost my respect when she told me it was my fault that I let some random man in this world put his hands on me and molest me. And did the same thing again when I was 17. She blames me for her f*cked up life because I got sick. She made me feel as if no one loved me and I was just born to be hated by everyone. That messed me up completely. She said I was the reason she was doing drugs, when she was doing drugs since she was a teenager. She wished I was dead and she wanted to die herself because she was tired of me. According to her, I was a mistake she tried to get rid of but my great grandmother talked her out of it. We constantly bang heads because she forgets how old she really is. She shouldnt even be a mother to begin with. She said she never wanted to even be one in the first place. I was a constant failure and headache to her. Honestly the only thing I ever did that might just **** people off is I stopped taking medication that I needed and I ended making myself more sick. And when I couldnt deal with it I turned to another alternative. Either than that I never gave her any reason to hate me but shes given me a life time of reasons of why I should hate her. Now I moved out from under her emotional death grip and she says the next time she sees me, she is going to be wearing a black dress. So motherly and caring.