My Family's Toxic Scheme

Every time I finished a night shift, all I wanted was to sleep.

But my mom, Sarah, always insisted I eat three meals a day, on schedule.

If I didn't get up, she'd yank off my covers, throw open the curtains, and slam doors, making as much noise as possible.

This constant disruption often left me with chest pains, foggy-headed at work, and prone to mistakes.

I absolutely hated it.

Still, I knew that for her generation, the fear was starving, not collapsing from sleep deprivation. My mom genuinely thought she was looking out for me.

So that day, the moment I heard her knock, I got up.