My mom frustrates the piss out of me. "Now you have kids, you understand what it's like to want to keep them home to keep them safe, you can't criticize me for doing that." Yes, I can. Because I get up every day and fight the anxiety. I fight the urge to lock them in the house just to keep them safe. I let them experience life, even the bad parts. I don't want them to grow up and not know how to function because they've been sheltered in a closet their whole lives. I want them to love their teachers and learn things I could never hope to teach them myself. You self admittedly didn't feel like fighting, you said you were too lazy. I still have culture shock, 10 years after leaving your house. Sometimes I hate you for what you did to me. I wonder what kind of person I would be, if I wouldn't have to fight this anxiety and depression, if you had just let me out.