Struggling with resentment towards my parents
Bismillah, May Allah forgive me for any ingratitude in what I’m about to say.
I’m a 26F pakistani, first-gen in the West. While
my belief in Allah aH has hardly ever wavered, my level of piety has fluctuated my entire life. Partly due to the effects of desi culture, and partly due to my environment growing up. My father hardly prays or fasts, and was a gambler for many years, may Allah grant him hidaya, and my mother while more religious than him, also struggles and moreso after her marriage to my father. I went to friday school, and took Quran classes, etc, but like most I had to learn Islam for myself, and I’m grateful I was able to develop my own relationship with Islam and Allah that isn’t nearly as tainted by cultural norms. It took many years, and many mistakes, but aH a little about 2/3 years ago, my life took a turn, and the presence of Allah, prayer, and Quran in my life cemented, and I became a hijabi at the age of 24.
Unfortunately, the beginning of my hijab was also the beginning of this descent in my life. My mother was not the most supportive of my hijab, fearing it would deter potential suitors, while my father, would criticize if my hijab wasn’t perfect. I come from a family where hijab is typically begun quite later in life, if at all, and truthfully, my parent’s attitudes irritated me greatly, but I tried my best to remain patient.
I also begun my first “big girl” job the same day I started my hijab aH. However, the same month my dad lost/quit his business, his primary source of income, due to disputes and lack of proper documents with his partners. He decided to begin working for a ride share service full time, but, do to his father being ill back home, there would be months at a time where he was not making income, and I would step in and take over our finances. That summer he also was hospitalized for two weeks, and unable to work for a following month due to a blood clot and a defib implant.
By the end of the summer, despite trying to occupy myself with friends, hobbies, travel etc, I had become quite depressed. I was visiting a city I had always dreamed of, and found myself on the verge of tears the entire time due to the immense hopelessness I felt. I think I knew even then, with my father’s lifestyle habits, things were only bound to become more difficult over time.
As it were, a year later, the night before my birthday in fact, my father suffered a stroke. Alhumdulilah x a million, that it was best case scenario, with minimal impacts other than some impact to his vision, and trouble with his memory in terms of recalling names/words. But, wallahi, even after a lifetime of dealing with anxiety/depression, I had never been more fearful in my entire life. My mother and sister were overseas, and I was left alone to take care of my father, handle his medical logistics, try to convince him to not drive and smoke less, along with figuring out and taking care of all of his/our finances. Every time I tried to sleep I would end up sobbing out of nowhere, I would have panic attacks daily, and I could not sleep until my father woke up, and I could not stomach any food. And in the weeks following when I finally begun to get better, we then dealt with the loss of my dad’s father who had traveled to the West for the first time just to see his son.
Which is all to say, despite everything, I love my parent’s dearly, and it’s not lost upon me how much they themselves have gone through throughout all of this. I spent day and night with my father during both of his hospitalizations, I consoled my mother as she felt her own frustrations at the lack of control she felt, I handled my dad’s family and their feelings about how my dad was behaving after their father’s death. Throughout it all I ensured them all to not worry about money and that I will take care of everything, for as long as I could. I would even go as far as to eating less, or only leftovers, to ensure everyone else was fed before myself. I did it all gladly, and was thankful for Allah to provide me with the ability to do so.
Yet, here we are now over six months later, and I can hardly speak to my parents without anger, may Allah forgive me. While I had the savings to take care of my family initially, all the money I had has ran out, and just our rent takes up half
my take home pay. Between rent, other bills I’m paying for
my parents, and my own bills, I’m living paycheck to paycheck, and incurring increasing debt.
My dad returned to full time work months ago, and has sparingly sent money over to contribute. My younger sister who works part-time, agreed to pay a small contribution as well, but has only done so twice, after weeks of asking her to, despite her daily spending not diminishing. My mother takes her frustrations of my father out on all of us, and especially me in regard to my lack of, well, a husband or any inclination to find one. She criticizes the way I dress and carry myself, even when I am home, and despite claiming she wants nothing more than to make my life easier, contributes only to further making things difficult for me, and lashing out whenever I try to express my feelings, using them as an excuse to fight with my dad.
No one in our home really cleans, my mother cooks maybe twice a week and tries to get us to buy take out the rest of the time, and my father will regularly stop taking his medication if I don’t fill his medication box, which, of course, no one else will do. Including rent, I am also paying off a rather large loan my father took out in my mother’s name, that he likely gambled away.
I try so hard to be patient and understanding with my family, to explain that at the very least, to treat me with a modicum and respect and consideration. It is only when I lash out that they make any changes, and the only change they make is to leave me alone, saying I’M the problem and ill-tempered.
I feel unbelievably hopeless and distant from Allah. I’m trying to get back to being regular in my prayers and to remind myself this is all just a test and that I need to remain patient, but I am reaching a point where I simply can’t nor care to. After a month or two of debilitating depression and barely being able to get out of bed except for work, I finally decided to seek psychiatric help, and aH it has made a world of difference. I see a muslim therapist regularly, and I refrain from confiding in my friend’s so I don’t talk bad about my parents, and receive bad advice. Yet, despite my efforts, it’s like everything my parent’s do sets me off. All I can think about is how desperately I want to get away from here, to just have space to breathe, without constantly being asked to something for someone.
I know I’m an adult, and as I don’t have brothers, my parent’s wellbeing in their old age is my responsibility, but I’m only 26, my parent’s are only in the 40s/50s. I didn’t think I would have to figure it all out so soon, I didn’t think I would be faced with taking care a family of four only two years into my career, I didn’t think I wouldn’t even get a chance to accumulate any savings. And truthfully, the money wouldn’t even matter to me if I felt emotionally supported. I’m not asking even for appreciation or any thanks, I just want them to realize I’m drowning, and to stop actively weighing me down.
All my life I was told the because I’m a daughter and not a son, my freedoms in life are different, yet the consideration for my gender has all but disappeared. All my friends are beginning their lives, getting married and having kids, and all I can think is that if I get married, I wouldn’t be able to do enough for my parents, and I would only have more responsibilities. My extended family is sympathetic at best but offers no real advice other than suggesting I get married, a wedding which I will pay for myself, which I definitely cannot afford. I am told Allah will take care of everything, and I would never deny that, but Allah also says we must tie our camels, it’s easy to just say rely on Allah and not do anything when you are not dealing with any of it.
There is so much more I have not said, and may Allah forgive me for saying this, but I feel like I’m being forced to deal with the consequences of my parent’s mistakes, and I’m finding myself resenting them so much for it. I hear of other families and I spend the rest of the day crying. I’ve always told my family that Allah tests and blesses everyone differently and not to compare, yet I can’t help but do the same. If you have read this far, please pray for my ease, I would greatly appreciate any advice possible.