Just a Little Unwell

Getting things out in the open for me has always been hard. Especially when it comes to my  mother. She is very old school in her ways of thinking and is always too quick to judge people.I've spent the last month or so trying to make my mum understand things, not just about me but about my son and my lifestyle choices.A few weeks ago I went out to the pub with my mum and was shocked at how many people commented to me on what a great person she is, and how she helps them in this way and that. For me this was a bit of a shock. I've never seen her in this way and if anything she was always been a hinderance to my life.Monday is my son's day to go to mum's for dinner. She normally calls here for a coffee before she goes to pick him up from school and we have a general chit chat  before she's on her way.  I've started to use this time to talk to her and tell her the things she has been either ignoring or blatently refusing to see in my life.A few weeks ago after this strange night out I told her I never felt I could talk to her. I always felt the black sheep of the family, the boys always got more attention than me (being the 5th girl when she really wanted a boy was hard!), and most of all she never took me seriously. I think she was hurt  by these comments and I actually saw the pain in her eyes. I don't think she intentionally went out to avoid me or make things hard for me, it just sort of happend.Ever since this chat she's  tried to do a little more for me. She calls me up every few days for a chat, even if it is mainly based around her, at least she's making an effort.This week I tackled a major issue in my life. Sexual abuse. Now I've tried to bring it up before with my mum, but she always just looked at me and said of course it didn't happen, but now almost a year on from the death of my grandfather she listened to me.Sat drinking coffee I told her. I said mum you may find this hard to believe but the only person that truly knows from within the family what happend is my aunt. I think at this point she knew what was coming. I said yes mum, not only did he do it to her, buy my grandfather sexually abused me too. I told her I was recieving therapy and some of my feelings weren't just related to bipolar but to that of an abusive childhood. I think she was shocked that I'd said it so harshly but at this point I know she  believed me. She asked if I wanted my dad to know. I couldn't imagine telling my dad. If I'd have told him when he was still alive I could have gauged his reaction. He would have been livid and probably killed his own stepfather, but now I don't see the point of hurting him. I know it may help him understand why my behaviour was so bad as a child, or why I hated the fact I was sent to live with my grandparents but I just don't see the point of making him go through the pain and the realisation that he couldn't do anything. Over the past ten years or so, since the birth and death of my daughter and since moving out of the family home, I have become closer to my dad. Not as close as I would have liked, but we share some moments every now and then.I feel better for getting it all off my chest. So much better that yesterday I actually asked my mother if she'd accompany me to my pdoc appointment next week and she said yes. I think finally with some guidance from me and from him she might just start to understand that I'm not crazy, just a little unwell.