Today I was discussing respecting people's privacy with my 17 year old son.  I told him how my mother would wait till I was at school to go in and throw all my stuff away.

"But mom, if you cleaned my room without asking, I'd be happy!" he replied.

"Yes, but my mom knew I valued my privacy.  She also didn't just clean my room to clean it, she did it to get dirt on me.  She'd find things in my room to keep."

"Ahh yes, so she could use it against you at another time."

"Exactly.  Because that's how my mom worked.  And yet she didn't understand why I valued my privacy so much."

Then I remembered the time she went through my book bag and found a note I had written to a friend.  I think it was like 4th grade.  We thought the idea of changing sexes was silly, so I wrote my friend a note that said I used to be a boy, but I got my penis cut off.  My friend and I giggled about this and thought it was hilarious.  Mind you, this was the 80's, things like that were not seen as the norm.  Kids today may still joke about things like that, but at least they understand that it actually happens and at least my children know it something people actually do. Back then, the idea was unimaginable.


But my friend and I didn't even know it happened in real life, so it was just hilarious to think about.  But my mom found this note, and hid it up in a special place in the kitchen and waited.


"Look what I found," she said, holding the note.

Uh oh.


"Do you know how sick and perverted this is?  People are going to think you're disgusting if they found this.  It's dirty and gross and sickening!  Is this what you tell people?  Do people really think this about you?"


Can you tell my mom is not too bright?  This is the same woman who thought masturbation is what caused her miscarriage, that people who masturbated couldn't have children.  Kind of sad, if you really think about it: a grown woman believing these things.


"No, mom, it's just a joke."


"Well it's not funny.  Its disgusting.  And you're disgusting for writing such things!  How dare you??!  Do you want people think you're as gross as this note says?"




Memories such as this are not pleasant to remember.  They still hurt when I think about them.  To think my mother shamed the holy shit out of me for, once again, being a pervert.  She said the same types of things to me when I found my father's dirty books in his closet and read them.  I was 12.  Sexuality or anything of the sort was something to be ashamed of.  Something to be embarrassed of, something to hide.  She called me sick when I was a little girl and peeked at my parents having sex.  Granted, it was pitch black dark and I didn't see anything, but she saw me in the doorway, got up and said "Are you the type of person who wants to see things like that?  That's disgusting!"  I was like 3 or 4, or possibly even 5.  Who talks to a kid that way?


The more I think about her and talk to her, the more I realize she has no common sense, and is quite stupid.  I don't mean "name calling" stupid, I mean honestly stupid.  Like she has an extremely low IQ.  And when others feed her lines of bullshit, like her parents, she believes them.  And then passed them on to me.  LUCKILY I was adopted, so I didn't get her brains, although her mother was brilliant, but my grandfather also had a very low IQ.  She must have got it from him.  No wonder my grandmother treated my mother badly....she treated my grandpa the same way.  Anyone dumber than her, was, well, dumb.  My mom's brother inherited his mother's brains (he's also a narcissist).  I think my aunt is also dumb...today my mother just told me that after my aunt's husband died, she didn't even know how to put gas in a car.  She honestly had no idea.  I guess she was safe letting him do all the thinking for her.


I have one memory that sticks out of my aunt: she was staying with us in her camper outside when I was like 13 and came in with her face dripping wet.  "What's that?" I asked.  "Oh if you spritz you face with seltzer water and let it air dry, it's soooooo good for your skin!!"  After that night I no longer thought of her as my favorite aunt...I just thought she was an idiot.


She also sent her granddaughter "Eat This Not That" for Christmas, because she thought she was "getting pudgy".  I wanted to tell her how rude that was and I hoped the young girl knew she wasn't pudgy, and that her grandma was a fucking idiot, but I didn't say a word.  In our family we're bred to keep our mouths shut.


But that memory of my mother calling me names and shaming for writing such a innocent note, something I had no idea about, I was a kid, makes me so angry.  Every memory I have of her is of her being a shitty mother.  And I have no idea how I will ever deal with all this anger inside of me.  I mean, it's not a raging ocean or anything, it's just buried crap that I can't confront her about.  I love my mother as a person.....but I don't even think of her as a mother.  She's just a lady who lives down the street that I humor so she can keep happy as she descends into dementia, just like the rest of her family.  She is my responsibility, but I owe her nothing.  It took me 12 years after my father's death to heal from his abuse, how long will it take me to heal from hers....which I consider way worse?? 

Who knows.  But I am working on it.  I am working on it.