Venting about my mother

I hate being my mom’s therapist. She just randomly and daily comes to me and has therapy sessions. I don’t have a choice. She throws a fit and gets mad when I try and set boundaries. I can’t have a conversation with her without being a therapist. I get that she has DID, but so do I. AND IT’S HER FUCKING FAULT! 

I frequently wonder how much of my trauma is actually hers. Secondary Trauma Stress Disorder is a real thing. Second hand trauma can be just as bad as first hand, especially if you’ve been given all of the details. 

I’ve been her therapist my whole life. I understood what rape and abuse was before I learned how to read because she wanted to talk about it. All the while she was one of my abusers and can’t admit it. 

Her therapy sessions were the only times we had conversations. The only other times we interacted were punishments. 

I just want her to act like I’m a person. A regular person. Her child. Not her licensed therapist. Because I’m not. I’m not a therapist. I only took one semester of psychology. Even if I was licensed, I would t be her therapist. It wouldn’t be fucking ethical. Dual relationships can cost people their licenses and their job. It can also get people into legal trouble. 

But she doesn’t want therapy. She doesn’t want help. She needs a job and she’s frustrated. I get that. But I’m not a therapist. I can listen, but it shouldn’t be the basis of our relationship- especially considering it’s a mother-child