Dear Josh,
Here's to wishing time spent with your mother this weekend doesn't live up to your worst expectations.
Honestly, its a huge relief my mother is 200 miles away from me and afraid to drive this far from home! I can't imagine how I would handle things if I were in your position. A few years ago, I would have buckled and been the dutiful daughter. Today, I might just have my mom thrown in a home somewhere.
Still she manages to infuriate me! I told her off via email today. She had it coming, but if I had been in a better frame of mind, I'd have been more patient with her. I was already dancing on the edge! She tipped me a little.
Here's to wishing time spent with your mother this weekend doesn't live up to your worst expectations.
Honestly, its a huge relief my mother is 200 miles away from me and afraid to drive this far from home! I can't imagine how I would handle things if I were in your position. A few years ago, I would have buckled and been the dutiful daughter. Today, I might just have my mom thrown in a home somewhere.
Still she manages to infuriate me! I told her off via email today. She had it coming, but if I had been in a better frame of mind, I'd have been more patient with her. I was already dancing on the edge! She tipped me a little.
“Mothers are all slightly insane.” ― J.D. Salinger
Mom figured out from some of my posts I was going through a dark time and then posted something on my wall about how, instead, I should be grateful. I told her if she posted anything on my wall again I was going to block her! For one thing, I express my gratitude a lot. But the hubris of my mother, who caused a large part of the damage that my PTSD and depression stems from and has never shown any remorse, telling me to be grateful, well that really disgusts me!
“When your mother asks, "Do you want a piece of advice?" it's a mere formality. It doesn't matter if you answer yes or no. You're going to get it anyway.” ― Erma Bombeck
It's probably a blessing that I have huge gaps missing from the memories I should have of my childhood. My mind is a tree with many broken and splintered branches! The few intact scenes make me cringe because I realize some things were so much worse that I had to repress them!
One that surfaced today while I was stewing was from 5th grade. I was in a school play in which I played a maid. My mother, always having to impress, bought an actual maid's uniform for me. The stage in our elementary school was in the same room as the cafeteria; kitchen on one side, stage on the other and a small basement area beneath the stage for dressing rooms and storage. That room had high windows up above at sidewalk level.
One that surfaced today while I was stewing was from 5th grade. I was in a school play in which I played a maid. My mother, always having to impress, bought an actual maid's uniform for me. The stage in our elementary school was in the same room as the cafeteria; kitchen on one side, stage on the other and a small basement area beneath the stage for dressing rooms and storage. That room had high windows up above at sidewalk level.
“Everyone has the right to tell the truth about her own life.” ― Ellen Bass,
One afternoon after a post-school dress rehearsal, all the girls went down to change into our street clothes, and as we started changing, the boys started whooping it up and peeking through the windows. Half dressed and shrieking as fifth grade girls will do we ended up on the floor trying to hide. (I especially, was embarrassed! In the fifth grade, unlike most of my classmates, I already had my period and was stretching out a B cup!)
My costume got some dust and wrinkles during the episode and Mom was livid. No explanation was good enough. When I was little, my mother threatened my father with calling C.P.S. if he didn't stop beating me with the belt buckle until welts were raised or my skin was broken. My mother made sure not to leave permanent marks. She pulled out the ruler and began to terrorize me! I crawled under my bed in retreat and she proceeded to scream at me and smack any part of me she could reach off and on for several hours until my father came home.
My costume got some dust and wrinkles during the episode and Mom was livid. No explanation was good enough. When I was little, my mother threatened my father with calling C.P.S. if he didn't stop beating me with the belt buckle until welts were raised or my skin was broken. My mother made sure not to leave permanent marks. She pulled out the ruler and began to terrorize me! I crawled under my bed in retreat and she proceeded to scream at me and smack any part of me she could reach off and on for several hours until my father came home.
“Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.” ― A.A. Milne
So, get the food you need and try to have some patience with your mother. You could be stuck with mine. I hope that you do get some relief from this situation soon!
Empathetically,
Lorelei
Empathetically,
Lorelei
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