Apologetic

Does anyone else know hat feeling where the child inside you conflicts with the emerging adult? You know. When the ideas you held before puberty clashes with your personal experience and your whole world is just flipped twice to the point where you don't know where it started and where it ends.
There are things in this world that you cannot control. Yeah I get it but does that mean I have to like it? If I don't accept it, is it called denial? I don't quite know what to think of my situation. I'm not even sure that the whole venting on a blog will do any good.
My thoughts are a bit scattered right now. I haven't even started on explaining my "situation" so let me get to it already. My mother is not alright. I am not alright with her not being alright. She has two faces in one soul. I feel like I should accept it. I feel like I should just shrug off the comments and the angry glances over her shoulder because I know that's not the real her. She has these moments where the world dissolves and it's just her versus the whole world. She shouts racist obscenities at people who aren't there or just complete strangers. She refuses to seek help. I know why. For a good part of her life, she has been weak. I say this with affection not pity. She survived. She may have lost parts of herself but she survived. I wouldn't see her as a weak woman if she sought help. I would look up to her for facing her problems so that it doesn't destroy what's left of her family.
You see, I am the last to be let go. I am the last birdie in the nest. I am, primarily, the one who cares for her. I am the only one who she can cling to and the only one who refuses to indulge her ideas yet really listen to her.
I'm a cold person inside. I'm not saying that I am not sympathetic. It means I can look at all the parts of her mind and mine to figure out the causes to our distress. I try to remove my emotions as best as I can just to hide what I am able to feel from myself. Basically, I'm protecting myself from myself. Anyways...
I just need help in dealing wit her. Seeking help is not an option. She won't hear of it. As soon as I bring it up, she'll pack up and leave. Well probably move states again if she gets worked up enough. I'm so tired of carrying this burden. When friends ask me about my mother, I can't help of the stigma it will create when I tell them the truth. My heart is heavy. My eyes convey no emotion. It's true.
This may all seem like gibberish but this is the farthest I've gotten to telling someone, anyone?, about how I feel. I'm a liar sometimes (a lot). I can't help it. I don't want to burden others wit heavy information. They don't need to think of me as the girl with the sick mother. I don't need that look from them. You know that look. The one with the sad, pity-her eyes. How do I keep sane when insanity is literally knocking at my door? I feel it in my skin and in my spine. This denial of the truths I've been hiding from myself for too long.
When I was a child, life was simple. He is bad. She is bad. He is good. She is good. Now everything's gotten too complex. It's the alcohol that makes him act that way. It's the spice that makes her hurt her children. He's done bad things; however, he avoids everyone that knows about them. She's done bad things; however, it has been in the secrecy of other men's homes.
My mother is a good person. A true bleeding heart. The type of old lady to drink tea out of old English tea cups and to bake your friends cookies when they slept over. The other woman, not my mother, is ten thousand percent racist against every race even my own. She makes absurd and quite painful assumptions about people she doesn't know or forgets to remember. She is defensive and deleterious to your happiness. I feel like a laptop running on battery saver at two percent. I'm almost gone.
I want to be sorry for her but she's making my life harder than it needs to be. What am I going to put on the college applications? Oh. No thank you. I need to stay close to home to care for my mentally ill mother but thanks for offering the scholarship to China. I am so hopeless right now that it's nearly and insanely comical.
This has truly been an awful experience and if you got to the end then congratulations. I'll send you a gold star. But really... My normal coping methods are getting a bit worn down. I don't know how long I can go until I finally crack.