Anguished Teen

Maybe my expectations of her is just too high. Maybe my expectations are unreasonable. Either way, I always have this irrevocable dread whenever I’m with her. I think I love her just because I have to, because she’s my mom…I know I don’t love her because because she’s my friend. I don’t feel that bond with her. I don’t feel like I could truly open up to her (and that’s difficult for me to not be able to do considering how much of an open book I am with complete strangers). Perhaps I’m afraid of her judgment, shame, or even hate… or it’s because I know it’d only bring irrational disapproval and that’s something I simply don’t want to hear. I’m so incredibly bitter and angry because of her and I’m so ashamed of myself because of it. It’s so adolescent to be considering ways to get back at her, to show her what a shitty daughter I could be and these ideas only end up making me even more upset at myself.
There are so many times where I just sit across from her, dying to share my aspirations, ideals, and dreams. There are rare times where I do get up the nerve and give her a glimpse of who her daughter is and hopes to be, but time and time again, I regret it. I can’t talk to her about relationships because, for whatever reason, she doesn’t have that natural ability or desire that most women have to talk about the opposite sex. I could have sworn I told her about the internships I scored but just today she was telling me about an email she received about jobs in Morris County. Thanks Mom - you’ve just shown me that not only do you refuse to listen the words you speak but you’re deaf to mine as well. If you’re the one preaching to me about going to church and reading the Bible so I could solve my everyday problems using those stories, then I think I may be better off not going.
Where did I go wrong? Did I learn something wrong? Was I supposed to pick up a submissive trait while I was growing up? I’m sorry but any child that she raises would not be submissive and let her or anyone walk all over them. None of us ended up like that and only a scrap of me respects her for not being like that. Her passive aggressive ways piss me off and her inability to accommodate drives me up the wall. Sure, this entire post may be unfair since she can’t defend herself, but hey, whenever we argue, she ends up resorting to saying, “You’re right. You’re always right. Alright?” That’s fine.
I don’t doubt that she’s undergone more hardships than I have, but it is because of this that I expect so much more from her. I want so badly to feel sincerely empathetic about all of her experiences and I want so badly for her to share these experiences with me without a look-at-what-you-have-now-and-be-grateful attitude behind it. 
She makes me dislike her, but that’s not the worst part - she makes me hate myself.

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All right. I just wish my mom and I were friends… and I wish that was as easy as it sounded.