How Sean Became Sebastian – Part XI

Sebastian Cummings

Recently, it has been brought to my attention that my mother has read my blog and responded by sending me the following messages:

Mother: Hi you need to give me the windowns cellphone back ASAP. Immediately Sean!
(A “gift” she gave me, that I didn’t ask for and can’t even actually use with my provider.”

Me: 1. I would appricate it if you didn’t demand that I do anything “immediately” because I am not a child. 2. I can’t come to you “immediately” because I have obligations and thats not how life works.

Mother: Whatever sean just make sure they get the phone and when you stop acting like a child I will stop treating you like a child end of conversation. if you wanna say anymore to me write it in your online journal.

Me: We are offically done talking. Thank you.

Mother: Yes we are but I’m sure I can read whatever you have to say in your online journal.

a few moments pass

Mother: so tell me sean have you been an ass or a cock the last couple days

Mother: ?!

Why am I sharing this? My mother is upset that the ignorant things she did are available for all to see and so she is attempting to bully me and using sophomoric attacks to attempt to bring me down. Here is where my problem lies. I never made judgement calls against my mother, I merely wrote what took place, the same way people write books about their lives. The reason I am doing all this writing is because it has all had a negative impact on my life and when these negative things happen they feel like a burden, a burden that you have to carry alone. One that no one else understands. So, I have decided, as a sort of ritual, to git rid of these experiences and since I have begun doing so, a number of people have come forth and have shared their stories with me, saying how they felt alone and like no one would understand. And what bother me the most about my mother is that she doesn’t care that she put people through these situations, but that I would dare tell anyone that they happened and as with most people with personality disorders, they turn the situation around to make it about themselves. These people must always be the victim and if they did anything wrong to anyone in their entire lives, it wasn’t actually them, it was their illness. People reading this blog don’t know my mother from a can of paint and the people who do…. already know about these stories. So…

I won’t get into the ways my mother continued to manipulate information to make this all about her, after I shared her text message with my sister, because one thing I learned is that miserable, manipulative people use accusations to both shift blame and perpetuate negativity through transfer of energy. But, knowing yourself eliminates the need to engage in these conversations and allows the source to keep that negative energy to themselves. I have decolonized my mind of my mother and I do not have to defend myself. And to completely end her chapter…

Is it my fault if a mother tries to elicit sex from a friend of yours through email with a message that ends, “don’t tell Sean”?

No.

Is it my fault if a friend comes over the house goes to use the restroom and finds a bag of cocaine? And I am so embarrassed, because I am 20 years old, I have never even seen drugs before and my friends are like, “what’s going on at your house?”

No.

Is it my fault if a mother comes home drunk almost every night and the mere sight of her embarrasses you? Is it my fault that she comes home, drunk and falls asleep in the car with it running, the door open as she was trying to get out of the car? And you find her at 7am when you get up in the morning?

No.

Is it my fault if a mother pretends that someone has broken into the house (in broad daylight, mind you), calls the police when I am asleep, in bed, tells them someone is in the house when it is very clear that I am home because MY CAR IS SITTING IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE (but, she of course doesn’t tell them this), they come into my room with guns pointed at my face yelling, “what are you doing in this house?” and I have to hope that these police don’t shoot me because my mother is pulling yet another stunt for attention. The police search the house, find nothing, nothing is missing except…. my mother’s medication… hmmmm… no computers, no ipods, no tvs, no laptops missing, my mother’s medication that is hidden in an random cabinet on the top shelf out of sight.

Is it my fault that my mother then tells the police that I am gay and because of that fact, I probably snuck a man into the house and he stole it? As if I had a history of doing anything like that…. Is it my fault that my mother then tells the police that my friends have a history of stealing? WHEN THEY DON’T?

No.

And is it my fault when all this is over and the police have threatened to fingerprint the entire house, to which I responded, “please do! that way I don’t have to defend myself against these ridiculous allegations anymore.” and they finally leave and I confront my mother about the lies she told the police and she says….. “I said that? I guess I got it wrong.”

I guess I got it wrong. I guess I could have gotten my child killed because I was in need of attention, because who the hell knows what I did with that medication…. took it all at once, sold it, whatever…. but I’m going to find a way to blame this on someone else and put their life in danger. Is that Sean’s fault?

No.

And if I want to share my story, because it is one of the most ridiculous, hurtful experiences in my life, should I be worried about how it’s going to make the woman who is responsible feel? The woman who made me feel so unsafe in a home, that I moved out THAT NIGHT. Yes, I packed my bag and I got the fuck out of that house. Should I feel bad about sharing that story?

No.

Do I wish negative things on my mother?

No.

Do I not have time for the bull shit anymore?

Yes.

Does something dramatically negative happen anytime my mother is around?

Yes.

Is that my fault?

No.

If you find yourself in a situation like any of these, YOU NEED TO LEAVE. And if you find yourself around people who reduce these things that hurt you to nothing and act like it’s not a problem, you need to not be around those people, they are not helping you.

For instance, if you live in a house where someone puts their hands on you in anger and plays the victim when you defend yourself and the people around you treat it as though it’s not a problem, go on with their lives unconcerned about how that sort of thing makes you feel, and in effect, alienate you, because they don’t hold this person accountable for their actions….. YOU NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF THAT SITUATION. IT IS NOT HEALTHY. You have no idea what could come of these situations. What if you seriously hurt this person defending yourself? You are now in danger…. You don’t know how that situation will play out, when there is no one there to speak on your behalf. If something is negatively affecting you, you need to be around people who will talk you through these situations, not act like they didn’t happen. And especially don’t stay around people who blame YOU. Is it your fault that people act this way?

No. Move on. Get past it. Forgive them in your own time… for you… not for them…

What is your fault?

Whether you choose to stay or leave. Hold yourself accountable.

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