So I am watching "Fleishman is in Trouble" on Hulu and in episode 2 there is a scene when he notices that his son watched a lot of porn on his computer.  He calls him him and says something like "Are you interested in this stuff?  Can I get you a book for kids with pictures?"  and adds "Just so you know, that's not real.  That's not how actual people have sex."  

It's healing, even with fiction, to see a parent act normal.  To act the way they're supposed to act.  To be loving and kind and sweet with their kids.  

When my oldest son got ahold of his father's Maxim magazine, he cried and cried and cried and told me he was disgusting.  He told me that I would forever hate him and that if he told me if I knew what he was upset about, I would never think he was normal again.  I have to admit, he was terrifying me.  I told him no matter whatever it is, it would never change how much I love him or what I think of him.  My mind went to dark places, I thought maybe he murdered an animal for fun or something.  But as it turns out, he liked "to see girls boobs in their bras".  I literally started laughing.  Had I been drinking something, there would have been a spit take.  And I said "Oh my god!  You are so normal!  There's nothing weird about that!  That's 100% normal!  I am so sorry you were so upset about this, but why do you think your father has those magazines?"  He just thought his father was gross.  And he wasn't wrong, but not for that reason.  Well, a little for that reason (he was a porn/sex addict, but my son didn't know that or what that even was, then again, neither did I at the time).  

When I was 12, I got ahold of my father's porn books, magazines, and movies (he was a porn/sex addict, too).  And my mother found out.  She sat me down and looked at me and said "What the fuck is wrong with you??  Are you just as disgusting as your father?  Do you know what type of people look at this type of crap???!!  Is that who you are??  What the hell is wrong with you??"

I just had another memory come up.  This same thing happened when I was around 5 or so, and my mother was trying to get my dad to make out with her in their bed.  So I laid on the floor in the hallway and looked into their room and laughed.  She came running out like she was pissed and started screaming that I was a "sicko" and there was "something wrong with me" for peeking at them.  "What's wrong with you?" she had asked me.  I thought it was hilarious.  I couldn't understand why she was so mad.  She's always acted like anyone who had anything to do with sexuality was a "certain type of person" and that type of person was a perverted disgusting person.  

Yet, today, she talks about sex like a goddamned pervert.  Like, somehow because her friends do it, she has to do it, too, and now she objectifies men (just kidding, she has always objectified men) and talks about them in very disgusting ways.  Also, she loves to talk about her and her dead husband's sex life, as though that's an image I want in my mind.  I swear, the next time she talks about anything like this, I will remind her of how she treated me as a kid and teenager (calling me a whore and a slut) and tell her I have zero interest in ever hearing her bring up anything sexual, ever.  

Sigh.  

That's who my mother is.  She's not loving.  She's not kind.  She's not understanding.  But she's also not smart, either.  She's dumber than a box of rocks (my father-in-law once said that about his mother-in-law and it always stuck with me).  Imagine a very stupid person coming out of the 1950's era where sexuality was so horribly suppressed, and then trying to navigate a husband who was so addicted to porn.  But still.  Whoever thought someone like her should be a mother?  I get she's incapable of many things.  One of those things is thinking properly.  She literally is so dumb that having a conversation with her will actually make you feel more dumb.  And that's always been that way.  It's not just because she's old.  But back in the day, when I was young, I thought her word was gospel.  I thought everything she said was the truth.  So when she said these words to me, they hurt.  Deeply.  She sent a message to me that my sexuality was disgusting.  And that's something I've carried with me for my entire life.  

But now I look back at that time and remember that it wasn't my mother who said these things to me.  I have never had a mother.  It was a stupid woman who was put in charge of watching me.  Like a drunken babysitter who has zero common sense.  Do you know what it was like growing up with a high IQ for my age (not horribly high, but higher than average) and having to be kept down by someone like that?  Like, I knew I was smarter than her.  But I was told I wasn't.  She took every single opportunity to make me feel like I was stupid.  Even as a little kid.  What kind of adult thinks that being smarter than an 8 year old is something to be proud of?  Granted, a potato may have a higher IQ than my mother, so it wasn't that hard to be smarter than her.  But still.  I could have went farther in life had I had someone who supported me, rather than my reaction of "do nothing" (some kids want to excel when they have a parent like her, and some do the exact opposite).  I could have grown up not being constantly shamed for any little bit of my sexuality that showed.  It's amazing what kind of boxes we can put ourselves in when our parents shove us in there and nail the lid shut.  I still have boxes I am trying to escape from.  And some I never will.  

Sigh. 

Well, that's my thought for the day.  Off to finish this episode.  

Today went by as a pretty boring day.  My hubby and I were alone most of the day, as our kids stayed up all night and slept most of the day.  My mother was in and out and around, being noisy as she always is, jabbering on about nothing, always needing to be the center of attention.  It was annoying.  But that was it.  Last night we traded small gifts with each other.  I was very happy our boys loved what we got them.  And that my mother was happy with her stuff, too.  I mean, she never acts super happy about her gifts anymore, but who cares.  

Then, my kids made a huge decision to sell something of theirs to help our family pay off some debt that we desperately need to do in order to buy a new house in the next year.  They don't have to do it, but they want to, which I think is very adult of them.  They know the stakes.  They know what our plan is for the new year.  And they want to help, which is hard for them.  So I am very proud of them right now.  Even if they don't follow through, which they may not.  But I hope they do.  Because it will teach them a very valuable lesson in life.  And it will help them transition from childhood to adulthood a little more.  

There are steps we all take to become less dependent on our parents.  Some of us have always done it.  And some take little steps.  And some don't take any at all (and some can't).  My kids take little steps.  And that works for us.  But if they follow through with this, it will be a very good thing for everyone involved.  

Also, my husband finally found "the thing".  I've been searching for "the thing" for years, something we can all do to make money as a family, a business of sorts.  And my husband finally found it.  Granted, it may be just "a thing" and not "the thing", but I think that's who we are as people.  We need many "things", not just one.  But this is a great thing that we can all do together.  We've been researching and making plans and soon we'll be calling around to get quotes, etc. to get it rolling.  We're going to start a gaming convention in our town.  Right now, just twice a year, but if it works out and eventually gets bigger, then we'll do it every quarter.  I already know how putting on a show like this works, as I used to help my uncle do his every single year for over ten years.  And our kids know how these types of conventions work as they are in the world of gaming.  And I have experience with other things related to this as I used to run a non-profit for a couple years.  And my hubby is amazing DM/GM (game master) and can run some of the games himself, which I think people will line up for (as online he used run games and people would write to him about how much they love watching his games as he's so good at it).  So, I think this is "the thing" for us.  And, my store?  Caters to people who would go to things like this.  So I can set up a vending table for my own store at our events.  

Maybe nothing will come of us.  Or maybe, it will be "the thing".  Wouldn't it be funny if my hubby is going to college right now for his work and ends up not even needing to use his degree?  LOL  Oops.  Oh well, at least he will have that fall back on.  

Okay, it's nice to write a post that's not all about how much my mother annoys me.  And at least I can write about a holiday where my mother didn't act up and try to hurt anyone this time.  Well, not physically at least.  

Just so you know, my mother is sitting right next to me as I'm writing this.  She's on my shit list and for some reason, she thinks that she can come in and join my family while we're having fun.  And now I just want to barf.  

Anyways, so twice today, she was talking to her friends really loudly on the phone (she's partially deaf) and both times she shit-talked me.  With one, her newish/old friend Halloween called, and said she hadn't gotten her Christmas card yet, and my mother blamed me and said I probably lost them or didn't send it on purpose.  

The second time, her BFF Christmas called and Christmas said that she had called me the other day to tell me to have my mother call Halloween, since Halloween had called her and her husband because she could not get ahold of my mother.  And I freaking forgot all about it.  Also, Halloween is a bad influence on my mother and is a really horrible person, so I didn't make a note to remember to tell her, either.  Well, my mother told Christmas most likely I didn't tell her on purpose.  Christmas said "Why on earth would she do that?  She wouldn't do that, she just forgot."  And my mother said in a shitty voice "Sure."  You could just hear the eyeroll.  Well, at least Christmas stood up for me.

Today, talking about this to my son and my husband, I didn't realize just how much it bothered me that my mother is INTENT on making me look horrible to her friends, that I almost started crying.  Which startled me, because I normally do not cry.  But it just reminds that this shit will never end with her.  She will always do this, just as she always has.

And now my mother left the room, because I completely ignored her.  HA!  Git, you seahag!  (in fact, our nickname for her is YOS: Ye Olde Seahag).  

So, I went out today, in 40 below weatehr, got my mother her scratch tickets (lottery) to give to everyone for Christmas presents, and I came home and made her envelopes to put them in (I went on Canva and designed them and printed them out) and she gave me a compliment "Oh this is why I have such a clever daughter!  You're so talented!"  All I could think was "fuck off, you liar", but I didn't say a word.  But I am really angry about this.  Angry and hurt.  Now, I know her behavior today shouldn't bother me, but I feel like I can't do anything right, because no matter what I do, she will always want other people to hate me.  Her goal in life is to alienate me from everyone she has contact with.  Why?  I mean, she did this even when she had her faculties about her.  When she had her freedom.  When she's angry with me, I expect it.  But now?  Why?  Just a month ago I told her to cool it and to stop being such a horrendous person or else there will be consequences.  Well, she's back to being up to no good only four short weeks later, and I have no idea what those consequences should be.  

On top of that, today my mother also gave her friend Halloween my fucking telephone number, as well as my first and last name.  When Christmas called me, she told me that H wanted my phone number, and I said no.  But today, my mother all willy-nilly hands out my number without even thinking about asking me.  Of course, I mean, I never expect her to do the right thing, because she's incapable.  So, I immediately blocked that crazy woman's number from calling me, because she's one of those people who will call 50 times a day if you don't answer.  So, if my mother doesn't answer, that evil scorpion will call me instead.  And I am not having it.  So, I said to my mother, even though she didn't know that I knew she had already given her my number "So Christmas asked if H could have my number, and I said no, because if you don't answer your phone, she will call 50 times a day."  My mother didn't say word about it to me and acted like it was nothing.  When my mother talked to Christmas, she mentioned that she told me that H asked her for my number and my mother asked really quickly "Oh, what did she say?  Was she okay with it?"  Christmas couldn't remember.  But at least Christmas didn't give her my number (though mostly because she couldn't remember it). 

But I don't get what shaming me like that does for my mother.  I don't get why narcissists are so intent on destroying us, even if we don't even know about it.  Like, why does she want her idiot friends to think I am some kind of asshole?  I do everything for her and she's an ungrateful seahag.  Because if she was grateful, she'd not want her friends to think bad of me for apparently no fucking reason.  But this is what she does.  And I literally can't stand it.  

Our plan is to save enough money this year to put a down payment on a house.  This also means making extra money for spending money, since we'll have none.  So, we need to get on this and get to moving and put YOS in a home.  Because this is just stupid anymore.  I wonder what stupid shit she'll get up to this weekend?  I guarantee you it'll be something.  Sigh.  Until then. 

I just don't know where to start.  I guess I'll start with the fact that my mother is looking for ways to move out of the house.  Sigh.  I mean, she can't.  But the idea that she's trying scares the hell out of me.  I am her power of attorney for both medical and financial, and she went behind my back and tried to gain access to all of her money, which is ridiculous.  I say that because she has dementia, has zero idea how to pay her bills or how to spend her money.  If I give her access to a debit card, she will spend all her money in a single place and not have enough to pay a single bill.  She has defaulted on so many things due to sheer financial negligence, and that's not wholly to do with her dementia as that's been a reoccurring issue her entire life.  

Here's the thing: it's all a gas.  She's just blowing steam out her ass because she was angry I stuck up for myself.  She may even know that I check her computer and know all the things she's been Googling, which would mean that she did it on purpose.  But if she didn't know, which I suspect she doesn't (or doesn't remember or think about), it means she was lashing out.  That means I am not allowed to stick up for myself anymore as long as we're living together for fear of her lashing out and going behind my back and making plans.  Sigh.  

So, here's my plan:  I have been nothing but emotionally sick since the 27th, since she became violent with me over a bag of baby wipes.  Granted, it was more than about baby wipes, it was about me taking away her ability to do things, even though it's not me taking these things away.  Part of it is her health, both her physical health and her declining brain health.  The other part is the fact she's a raging fucking asshole.  When I allow her to help with meals, or do large cleaning jobs?  She's an irate lunatic.  Which is also partially why she was being such a cunt to me that day.  She was cleaning.  And cleaning means the beast becomes unleashed.  

When she cooks or cleans, she's overcome with feelings of being a victim.  "YOU made this room a mess!"  "YOU aren't helping me cook or clean!"  "YOU are putting MY dishes in places they do not go!" (never mind the fact that I paid for them).  "What the hell is wrong people??  This is such a fucking mess!!"  Blah blah blah bitch bitch bitch.  

So one of the first things I did was ban her from cooking holiday dinners.  Whenever the holidays came around, my stomach would be in knots.  She thought she was queen of the kitchen and had the right to scream and yell and act like an irate lunatic and a complete asshole to everyone, but especially to my oldest son, who is her scapegoat.  So, I said that was it.  And told her "Nope, you're done.  We're cooking from now on."  And she did not like that one bit.  So when Thanksgiving came this year and I was incapacitated due to my ER visit the night before?  I was terrified she was going to take advantage of it and try to take over cooking.  I was soooo happy when my two boys stepped up and cooked the entire meal with out my mother joining at all.  I was so proud of them.  But I was very surprised she didn't try to take over, because that's how she is.  

Then she kept both messing up doing the dishes, as well as used her doing the dishes as a way to shame my entire family, as well as scream at people for eating food.  "I JUST washed the dishes and now you're going to dirty them all down!!"  When it really had nothing to do with that, she just wanted to shame people for eating, which is another thing she does (wonder how I ended up with an eating disorder at 15?).  She was also forgetting to wash them and put them away dirty too many times.  So, I stopped her from washing them.  Then one day, she just started washing them again.  So I stopped her again, and then had to hide the scrubbies and dishsoap from her, which I still do.  She pretends now that she just "gave it all up", but I always remind her that she's not allowed.  The other thing was she DEMANDED I buy Dawn blue dishsoap and nothing else.  "Look, I can't get them clean without Dawn!"  I would reply "You can't seem to get them clean WITH Dawn either, ma, so it doesn't really matter what I buy."  So I took to buying generic and repouring it into the Dawn container and she never realized it for a very long time.  I couldn't afford actual Dawn so Dollar Tree blue dishsoap it was.  Everything with her so fucking particular, and she used it all a form of control.  The shame came in public when she'd say "Oh wow, I am not home right now, I guess the dishes won't get done" or "Nobody would ever do them unless I do them!"  Etc.  Etc.  Which was untrue.  She'd get angry if anyone else did them, so we didn't.  Not at first.  Eventually we did them more and more, until I just told her to stop completely.  

The thing is, if she just forgot to clean the dishes, I'd be nicer about it.  Dementia sucks.  I would never shame someone for that.  But she was MEAN.  And always has been MEAN.  As FUCK.  So, whenever she says "Oh, I just leave that for you and your husband to do!" I remind her "No, ma, you don't leave anything, you're just plain not allowed to do the dishes."  

So, I just looked at the calendar and I was wrong.  She was trying to gain access to her accounts the Saturday BEFORE her meltdown.  What the fuck?  I can't trust her at all anymore.  I don't know what's going on.  She also was cruising for life insurance, which makes zero sense, too.  Sigh.  I just wish I could install a browser for her that would let her get onto her email and that's it.  And I know I could do it, but we aren't at that stage yet.  I do have website blockers on her computer that stops her from gaining access to certain sites to spy on people (which she does all the time).  And I added both the websites for these accounts, but she still can call them on the phone if she wanted to.  Which won't do much other than make more problems for me trying to pay bills and whatnot.  And if I can't pay bills, we all will be homeless.  And since we were just homeless a few years ago, this terrifies me.  I am trying to keep everyone safe in this house: all the bills are paid on time, my mother's meds are ordered on time, I make sure everyone has clean clothes and full bellies.  How can I do any of that if she's going to start fucking around with the money?  

So, I guess I have to start being super nice to her and pretending like everything okay between us.  Frankly, it would be mentally healthier for me anyways.  Like I said, I've been emotionally sick ever since that day and today, I was quite nicer to her and with that, my mood lifted.  So I guess for the next year (or less), I will just be biting my tongue and playing nice again.  And keeping track of her stupid browser history and emails, as I usually do.  And I will clean my fucking ass off so there will be no more meltdowns about that.  I guess I have to buckle down and tighten up this ship so we can save enough money to move out.  And buckling down with my writing and my store.  My youngest son is taking over the grocery planning and helping me out with cooking, shopping, and he even organized my cabinets!!  I was floored at how much work he did.  And he pulls out the food for dinner for me and puts it on the counter.  I am so happy to have someone who is actually helping to alleviate my daily load.  Oh, and he does his own laundry, too :)  

Yes, ladies, he's 21, single, cooks, cleans, is a minimalist, and organizes ;)  

He's also going to help me in my store, too.  So, that will help light a fire under my ass to get stuff done.  And any extra money I make will go right into either savings or on credit cards.  

But what happens during the time I am trying to save and get stuff done is what scares me.  What if she tries some shit when I am not looking?  Well, I am usually on the lookout, but she always catches me by surprise.  I hate not seeing something coming.  I also hate that I have to keep such a diligent watch on her, as that's another form of control I am letting her have over me.  And it's not fair.  So, the quicker I can make and save money for us to move out, the less I will have to care about that.  

Breathe in.  Breathe out.  

I just want to win the lottery LOL  But you can't win if you don't play and it's really not worth the money to even try.  But still.  It would be nice.  

Okay, that's it.  I am off to go to sleep.  It's like 3am and the stress of her is making me lose sleep lately.  I just want to relax and not think about her BS.  I think that's why I love Netflix so much LOL 

Lately, it's not been great for me.  Besides going to the ER with a huge cyst on my ovary that everyone thought was a kidney stone, and my mother being a total psycho for weeks, I've been having an upsurge in my adrenaline spikes due to my hyperadrenic POTS.  This makes my anxiety out of control, it fucks with my sleep and ramps up my sleep disorders.  Last night?  I woke up unable to open my left eye.  The rest of my face worked and it quickly fixed itself (I think I fell back asleep for a moment and then it went back to normal), but still, that was scary.  I cannot sleep more than hour or so with this upsurge in my POTS, too.  I keep waking up from adrenaline surges and I'm shaking.  I hate when this happens.  Also, my thoughts can spin out of control, too, which is something that's happened to me since childhood when my anxiety is bad.  And this is also when my migraines amp up.  Ugh.  Then on top of that, I decide to have it out with my mother yesterday, because after Sunday (Thanksgiving weekend), she went back to acting like everything was normal.  So I yelled at her last week about it.  Then she immediately went back to acting like everything was normal again.  Then she got out her cleaning supplies and decided to clean things in the kitchen I already cleaned, which is something she loves to do to act like what I did wasn't good enough.  And I just couldn't take it anymore.  

I am just so tired of her getting away with everything.  So I let her know very clearly she did not get away with anything, and never will.  Here is a basic outline of our conversation.  Then after that, I have snippets of our conversation that I cannot remember the order to.  

After I yelled at her though, I did not feel better at all.  I wish I did.  But she refused, once again, to take responsibility for a damn thing she did or said.  And it only frustrated me more, rather than make me feel better.  So, I felt horrible the rest of the day.  Not because of what I said to her, as I am always very succinct in my words with her and I never call her names or really swear (I do use swear words, but not directly at her).  I just state facts.  But her response is what made me feel sick.  As I feel utterly defeated because she'll never ever take responsibility for what she does.  I feel like I will always lose, as long as I live with her.  But I did give her an ultimatum.  And she knows, from previous experience with me, that I 100% mean what I say.  Okay, here it is.

Here is how our conversation went: 

"Why can't you apologize?"

"I am sorry." (in an angry voice)

"That's not an actual apology.  But for what?  What are you sorry for?"

"For cleaning the bathroom."

"NO.  That is NOT what you should be apologizing for!"

"What should I apologize for then?"

"Are you kidding me??  You should know!  You were violent with me!"

"Oh, I forgot."

"What??  Sure you did.  This just happened a week ago and you forgot you were violent with me?"

"Yes, I forgot."

"Funny, you always seem to 'forget' when you do something wrong.  Just like you 'forgot' that daddy used to abuse you and you both abused me as a kid."

"Oh, I didn't forget that." (meaning his abuse of her, not of me)

"Really??  Because you told me that my childhood didn't happen.  That I must have lived in a totally different home from you because none of that ever happened."

"Why do you always bring up the past?"

"Because it's not the past for me.  It never will be.  I live it every single day of my life and will until the day I die.  Why do you always want to pretend like it didn't happen?  Why can you take responsibility for what you did wrong?"

"You always do that.  Bring up stuff form the past.  It's over."  

"So, is what you did a week ago in the past, too?"

"Yes."  

"The hell it is.  You are like this all the time.  Well, not all the time, but you are a very violent person.  You've been violent with me too many times, mom.  And I don't think you'll ever stop.  And you blame it on being crabby."  

"Why did we buy this house together?  Why don't I just move out?"

"Why is that your go-to?  Why can't you just answer my questions or comment on what I say?  Why do you always bring it back to that?  It doesn't have anything to do with what happened." 

"I am asking you, why did we move in together if you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you.  I hate your shitty behavior.  I hate your violence.  And I hate the fact that you can't own up to any of it."  (so I guess, I do hate her, because that makes up the whole of who she is)

"Again, I am asking you, why did we move in together?"

"Last Sunday, you were violent with me, and that was unacceptable" (I am ignoring her trying to evade)

"Why did we move in together?"

"Last Sunday, you were violent with me, and that was unacceptable.  You will NOT do that again or there will be consequences."  

"Whatever."

"Do you hear me?  I mean it.  I realize you had terrible parents who never taught you there were consequences for your actions, but I am your mother now and I will enforce them.  If you EVER are violent with me, my husband, my kids or any animal in this house, there WILL be consequences, do you hear me?"

"Yes."

"I want to hear you say it.  That you will not be violent again in this house, period."

"I will never do that ever again."  

"Thank you." 

(door shut, she was still talking about something, I don't know what)

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Now, that was the gist of our conversation.  Now here are some more wonderful tidbits that were said during this wonderful time: 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"All you had to do was say 'I don't want to live here anymore' and they'd have taken you back and given you to a different family."

"You mean the adoption agency?"

"Yes.  I could have called them and they'd have taken you back and put you with someone else." 

I pause because of the horribleness and stupidity that was coming out of her mouth.  "You do realize you LEGALLY adopted me, right?  That you guys are my LEGAL parents.  The adoption agency had zero control over me by then, right?  You couldn't just return me like a broken product from a store!  You would have had to give me up for adoption for that happen!  Wait, would you have been okay with that?  Just handing me over like that?"  

"Yes."  

"WOW.  What a shitty thing to say!!  I mean, it's a total lie, as you would have kept your claws in me forever and would have laughed in my face had I asked for that back then, but still, what a shitty thing to say now!!"  

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"I did apologize." 

"Saying it in a shitty tone of voice is NOT a real apology."

"I said in a nice tone of voice, too, and that wasn't good enough." (she's admitting she said it in a shitty voice)

"It wasn't nice, it was your fake nice voice.  It was condescending.  It wasn't real."

"I don't know what you want from me."

It was then I realized, I didn't know what I wanted from her either.  Because I knew she couldn't understand what it means to act like a normal human and actually mean her apology, and I could not explain it to her.  Because I knew she couldn't give it to me.  I wanted her to be normal.  That's what I wanted.  But she's incapable, so I just looked at her and said quietly "I don't know either."  

And that's when I felt it.  That's when I felt the underlying sick feeling of "this will never get better" seeping in, that ended up staying for the rest of the night.  It was defeat.  I was feeling utter and total defeat.  I knew I could never win with her and get what I wanted.  That none of the things I brought up to her would ever get resolved and never would.  I've come to this conclusion before, but for some reason, it just brought it all back.  It's a numb feeling.  It's total emptiness.  And as long as I have contact with her, it will never go away.  It's underlying in everything I do as long as I am around her.  But I have to remind myself, only one more year (or less).  That's it.  As long as I can stick to a budget, we will have saved enough to put a down payment on a house.  And then we can then put her in a home and be done with her.  I just have to keep this all in mind when I think of spending money I don't need to spend, that it's being saved for the greater good.

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"You've always done violent things to me.  You blame it on being crabby."

"You knew that before you moved in with me, that I've always been like that." 

"Wait...so you're admitting you're violent?  What?  You're admitting you know you're like this?"  And then it dawned on me she's admitting to being crabby, not violent.  But in reality, it's not actually different.  While she's downplaying her violence and making it palatable by calling it "crabby", she still was admitting to being a violent person.  But in her simplistic and delusional mind, what she's doing isn't so bad.  It's just "being crabby".  

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"What you did was unacceptable."

"I wanted my bag of stuff."

"Your bag of baby wipes?"

"It had other things in it!"

"A toilet brush?  Are you kidding me?  You think it was okay that you got violent with me over a toilet brush and baby wipes?"

"My scrubbie and my cleaning brush was in there, too!"

"You're missing the point here, mother!  No matter what was in the bag, it was NOT okay for you to shove a door into me and then start beating on it and screaming for me to give you your bag back!  I don't care if that bag was full of gold!  Your behavior was inappropriate and wrong!!"

"If you knew I wanted it so bad, then why didn't you just give it to me?"  

"Are you kidding me right now?  What on earth did you think I would do to your bag of cleaning supplies?  Flush them down the toilet??  Even if I did, they are all replaceable.  What YOU did was not an appropriate reaction to me entering the bathroom.  It made no sense.  And then you became violent with me. OVER BABY WIPES!!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Tell me this, if you came home and found my husband doing to me what you were doing to me, do you think that would have been okay?" 

Silence.

"So, if you came home and found Mr. Brooks being violent with me, the way you were, you'd have just stood there and let him do what he wanted with you saying nothing?" 

Silence. 

"Because if my husband had done to me what you did, I would DIVORCE HIM!!" 

"I am not your husband."

"Damn right you're not.  Which makes me wonder if I would not tolerate that kind of behavior from him, why should I tolerate it from you?" 

Silence.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You never take responsibility for what you do wrong, ever."

"Neither do you."

"Really now?  What have I ever done wrong to you?"

Silence.

I know what she means here.  Because there is only one thing she's ever complained about what I did to her.  "Oh, you mean when I stopped talking to you for fourteen months in 2017?  That was not me doing something wrong to you, it was 100% your fault."

"Sure, blame me for everything."

"Of course I will blame you for what you did wrong.  You were being abusive to me.  So I went no contact with you.  I was protecting myself and my family from you."

She started to say something but I cut her off, because there is nothing she could say to make me going no contact with her my fault.  I would NEVER stop talking to my own mother if I didn't have to.  Not many people would.  It's not like it was fun for me.  I had PTSD and dreamed about her every single night for almost a year straight (no joking).  I lived in fear of running into her again and having to speak to her, knowing damn well she'd turn it into some kind of pity party.  Remember, at the time, I lived one block away from her.  So the fear was constant whenever I left the house.  None of that was fun for me.  And when in 2018 we had to go back into her life due to being homeless?  It was EXACTLY how I feared it would happen.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I can live on my own!"

"You can't even walk into the doctor's office alone, how can you live alone?  You can't climb stairs so you can't do laundry, you can't cook food, shovel, mow the lawn, or pay the bills, or remember one word the doctor tells you, and you cannot drive at all.  So, how will you get anywhere or do anything for yourself?"  

"I can, too!!  I can live on my own!"  (she says in anger)

Sigh.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I do everything for you and you're not even grateful."

"I am too!! I always say thank you!"

"Sometimes you do, sure.  But then you get into a mood where every single thing I do is wrong: it's not fast enough, good enough, or it should have been done different.  And then you don't say thank you, you just complain.  And sometimes you even yell at me about it!"

Silence.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You hurt me that day.  Physically hurt me after I went to the ER for being in so much pain, which put me back in tons of pain again and I had to start taking my pain medication again after finally being off of it.  And when I brought that up to you last week when I yelled at you about it, you said NOTHING.  No apology.  NOTHING."  

Silence.  

Then she changed the subject.  

Both my kids heard this and commented on it.  My oldest son was in the basement and heard everything and my youngest was in his room and heard it all, too.  Both said "Wow, you brought it up to her AGAIN, and she still said nothing.  No apology.  No excuses.  She just didn't say anything at all."  And because of that, they are both still pretty angry at her.

A loving mother would say "Oh wow, I can't believe I did that to you.  I am so sorry I hurt you.  I was overreacting and should never have let myself get that angry about nothing at all.  But I am really, really sorry I hurt you.  I wasn't thinking straight."  Granted, a loving mother would NEVER have done the thing she did in the first place (or any of the other million things she's done).  But even if a loving mother lost her cool and exploded over something stupid, she would take responsibility and be actually sorry.  My mother is incapable.  She can't even admit she did anything wrong.  She still thinks she was just "crabby" and it was no big deal.  Even though she physically hurt me.  But she can't admit she did that, because if she did, it would mean she's at fault. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I honestly can't remember any more.  If I do, I will come back here and add to it.  Remember, I write these things down for future remembering.  That way, if there is an issue, I can come back and see what was exactly said.  It's been helpful for so many reasons.  And you should do the same.  Somewhere nobody can get a hold of it and throw it away.  

Okay, that's the whole of it.  For now.  

Today is Mr. Brooks' fortieth.  And mother has on her sassy pants.  It's in her tone of voice.  I can hear it.  I know the sass is coming.  Considering I just had it out with her after last Sunday's "incident", I hope she can keep in her pants (haha I mean keep it in her head) for the weekend and just chill out.  But she scares me anymore.  I don't know what to expect from her.  It's like she's reverting back to the old days.  "I've been good enough for far too long" it's like she's saying with her actions.  But the thing is, I am not the same person I was back in the "old days".  So even if she tries, I will do my best to shut her down.  And if that doesn't work, I will take action (like, calling her doctor and having her taken in for observation).  That's a drastic measure, but if what she did a week ago was any indication of how our future is going to play out with her?  That is a step I will 100% take.  Her brother needed to be sedated because his dementia turned into all out physical rage (he even tried to kill a nurse).  So, if she tries some shit like that with me or anyone else in our house (including animals), she will be put away, no hesitation.  

But yeah, I hope this weekend is nice and she just stays calm.  But again, I can hear the sassiness in her voice.  So, we'll see.  Wish us luck. 

This is Phyllis.  She's an amazing chicken.  I held her for the first time today since she's become an adult.  It was kind of amazing.  She felt different than the other chickens.  More girthy.  Like her mama (meaning me LOL).  

My last 10 chickens went to their new home today.  They did so much better than then first 5.  My son and I were smart though, we got Phyllis and Gloria, our two who aren't laying yet and are skittish as fuck, into the coop before the family came to come get them.  That way they couldn't run away.  And it worked.  All the rest were easy to catch, as once they are laying, they do the "submissive squat" and let you pick them right up.  They may not always like it, but they let you do it anyways.  

I am not as attached to these girls as I thought I would be.  The first five left and I didn't even miss them, even though two of my favorites were in that group (Precious and Jenny).  I love animals, but for some reason, I see them as just chickens.  And when I realized they were overpriced pets and were never going to bring us any money (nobody buys eggs fresh out the chicken butts anymore), then I realize I had made a big mistake buying them.  But, I will say, it was fun while it lasted.  We learned a LOT.  And one day, I would like to have chickens again.  But not here.  Not now.  And maybe never again, who knows.  

But today we say goodbye to some cute ass chickens and I hope they will be happy free-ranging on a 2.5 acre farm.  

Today was kind of fabulous.  I did waste most of the day playing video games on the PS4 again, but that was because of my POTS, as when I let the chickens out this morning I got super dizzy and felt like I was going to fall.  Twice.  So that set off my anxiety, which led me to playing video games most of the day (Spiritfarer is my game of choice right now...as I'd had my fill of Wytchwood for the moment).  Which led to a headache and just an overall icky feeling.  But then my kids and hubby went to the store and I decided to turn the game off and make my mom's dinner.  As I did, she came in and I was being nice.  She always tells me that I never tell her anything.  And I don't.  Because a) for good reason, she's obsessive and annoying, and b) my life is none of her business.  But I didn't want to make her mad when the lady comes tomorrow to take the last 10 of our chickens, so I told her that we're getting rid of them because of the expense.  I wasn't even lying about it, they are expensive ass pets who only give me eggs...something I cannot sell, nor do I really use.  Something I didn't realize until after we started getting so many eggs a day.  So the money and the work make it not worth it.  At least not right now at this stage in our lives.

So I told her about it  and she agreed with me about the expenses and how we didn't need that many eggs.  

And then she came back into the kitchen and tried to apologize for the other day.  

Sigh.

Her: I wanted to catch you and apologize for....

Me: Sunday, you mean?  What you did on Sunday?

Her: Oh yes.  Sunday.  I forgot what day it was.  (sure she did)  Yes.   So, I know you don't want me to clean that bathroom, but you were sick and I knew you didn't feel well, and I really really wanted to do something nice for you.  So, I was sweeping the one bathroom and thought I could go sweep the other.  Then, since I was there, I might as well clean the sink.  

Me: So, you thought I was sick and wanted to do something nice for me and chose to clean the one room I ask you to leave alone?  That doesn't make any sense.  Please do not pretend you cleaned that room for me.  

Her: I did, too! (whiny voice activated)

Me:  No, you cleaned it because you were mad.  You cleaned it because you told me you felt like you were living in filth (the sink was dirty....that was it--I had just cleaned the toilet).  You cleaned it because you were bored and wanted to pick a fight with me, because you knew you I would get angry.  If you cleaned it for me. then why did you start SCREAMING at me the moment I calmly said "Hey, you're not supposed to be cleaning that room."  You were irate right off the bat.  You didn't do it for me, you took advantage of the situation because you know I was sick so you could do whatever you want.  Just like you always do.  You've been picking fights with me for over week now.

Her: (rolls her eyes)  No I haven't!

Me: You just picked a fight me a couple days before about the cigarette machine.

Her: What cigarette machine?

Me: (I take a deep breath in, because she's fucking lying about pretending not to know what I am talking about...her dementia is not THAT bad yet)  You came in here and bothered me about not being able to roll your own cigarettes, knowing damn well I would say no.  You were bored, so you wanted to rile things up and pick a fight with me, even though the day prior I was in the ER.  So you knew I was in pain.  You were taking advantage of the situation, as well as just picking fights with me. 

Her: I am sorry I am so crabby! (she says in a shitty tone) Maybe change my meds and I won't be like that!

Me: (I choke out a laugh)  Are you kidding me?  This is who you are, mother.  This is who you've always been!  There is no changing you.  Your meds or depression have nothing to do with it.  

Her: (I don't remember her response)

Me: You know, I went in the ER on Wednesday night with severe excruciating pain.  By Sunday, I was better.  Then you physically assaulted me, forcing me into a shoving match with you over the bathroom door.  Does that sound like you cleaned the bathroom for me?  Over the fact you left cleaning wipes in there and wanted them back?  Your behavior forced me to go back on all my pain meds, as you hurt me!  What you did not was NOT okay!  It was horrible!  

(Let me add right here, I am so surprised she let me get this far without running away.)

Her: Well, what what was I supposed to clean for you if not the bathroom?  

(Yes, she didn't even comment on the fact she physically hurt me). 

Me: The kitchen cabinets were filthy.  The stove was filthy.  The kitchen floor needed sweeping.  You could have done any one of those things, but no, I was stuck doing them all instead.  

Her: (completely missing the point and put on a cheery voice)  Oh, I didn't know I was allowed to clean all that!  I will make sure to ask you for some cleaner the next time it needs to be done!

Me: That's not what I am saying here.  What I am saying is that you are lying to me about doing the bathroom for my benefit.  And then physically assaulting me over the fact.  

Her: Well, you're never going to believe me.  I am going to my room.  

Me: Of course I don't.  You don't know how to tell the truth!  

Her: Whatever.

Me: Mother, if your mouth is open, then I know you're lying.  I never believe anything that comes out of it.  The day you tell the truth?  Will be the day pigs fly out of my ass. 

Her: (yells from her bedroom behind a closed door) I don't need to argue with you anymore.

Me: Of course not!  You run away and hide like always.  You've done that my whole life.  You refuse to confront what's going on and never, ever take responsibility for what you did wrong.  And what you did was BEYOND wrong!  Nobody ever holds you accountable for your actions.  Well, I am done with that shit!  I am going to hold you accountable forever.  

End Scene.  

And yes, that was our conversation.  I did not embellish one word.  The only thing I did was not completely correctly remember the order in which things were said.  But I did say every single one of those words to her (and more, I just can't remember them...damn, I should have hit record on my phone!!).  I said them calmly and with anger, but no yelling.  Sometimes I surprise myself at how calm I can be when I am that fucking angry.  

Do you know how many times she's turned a situation like this around on me?  To say what she did, she did for my benefit?  Well, not this time.  I was done with that shit.  

I thought about this today: if my husband did to me what she did on Sunday???  I would either a) take him to a pysch to get his head checked or b) divorce his ass.  And if he had turned around and said "Oh, I was doing this thing for you", when the thing he did was being volatile to me the moment I said anything?  I'd know right then and there he was a narcissist.  Because fuck that guilting shit.  It doesn't work on me anymore.  

You know what I found out today?  I found out that I am not scared of her anymore.  Sure, I am scared of her reactions to something that will give her a meltdown.  But I am not longer scared of standing up to her.  The moment I got done yelling down the hallway to her closed door?  I put on music and danced while I made her stupid dinner.  This is the song that came on: 

So I found out two things today: 

1. Today, my mother cancelled her foot doctor appointment without telling me or asking me (even though my husband could have already taken off of work to go, something she never thought of--he didn't, but he usually does, so I don't get why that would be okay for her to do), and
2. I knew I was right about her "mass" in her kidneys.  She's going around telling people (two of her friends) that she's "under observation for cancer".  Even though TWO YEARS AGO they told her it was just a simple cyst and they don't give two squats about it.  So, she's either a) lying or b) her dementia is getting so much worse, and that's where all of these blowups are coming from.  

Oh boy.  When I thought my mother was able to control herself this holiday season, I was so very, very wrong.  

I felt better today, so we went and returned our Christmas tree that I just bought (it sucked).  And we went to the grocery store to get a reprint of a receipt.  We weren't gone long and I came home and someone was in the kid's (I say kid's, but they're grown men) bathroom, throwing things into the hallway.  I thought it was my youngest, but then I heard sweeping.  Oh no. 

See, she's not allowed to clean in there.  She's been told this over and over again.  We had a HUGE argument about it last summer (not this past summer, in 2021).  I caught her in there using bleach, something I do not allow in our house as I have terrible chemical sensitivities.  

Do you know what it's like to have a narcissistic parent and have allergies, sensitivities, and migraines?  I bet you do.  They don't give a single miniscule fuck.  They will do as they please and act like you're overreacting or that you don't matter.  How she even got the bleach cleaner to begin with, I have no clue.  But that was the last time she was allowed to go to the dollar store to get anything without me being there.  And eventually, I just put an end to that, too.  Now she's only allowed to go to resale shops.  Otherwise she will spend all my money.  

So we had a huge argument over that.  But that was NOTHING compared to today.  

Today, she actually got violent with me.  

I saw her throwing shit into the hallway and I heard the sweeping and I said "You know you're not allowed to clean in there."  I didn't say it mean.  I just stated it, like I always do with her.  But she wasn't having it.  She was in full meltdown mode and started screaming.  

Her: "I AM ALLOWED TO CLEAN ANYTHING I WANT!" 

Me: "No, you're not.  I've told you since forever ago that you are not allowed to clean that bathroom.  It's not your bathroom.  That's the kids' bathroom.  They need to clean it."  

Her: "SO I GUESS THEY ARE NOT ALLOWED TO USE THE OTHER BATHROOM THEN, IF THIS IS THEIR BATHROOM?" 

Me: "Mother, get out of there.  I told you you're not allowed to clean in there."  

Her: "THIS IS MY HOUSE, I AM ALLOWED TO CLEAN ANYTHING I WANT!!" 

She comes out, I go in the bathroom to use it.  And then she shoves the door into my back.  

Did I mention I just went to the ER Wednesday night because of the pain my back due to a huge cyst on my ovary?  Yeah, so getting hit in the back with the door isn't fun.

Oh no.  So this is what all this hyped up bullshit is coming to.  This is the head.  She's been "on" for over a fucking week, and now this is the culmination for all of that.  She's gone totally fucking insane.  

I shove the door back shut.  I am very, very angry now.  How dare she shove the door into me, and for what reason?  Actually, I am freaking out.  Because the action confused me.  Like for a moment, I was bewildered, wondering what in the actual fuck was going on.  All my instincts told me to do was keep that door shut, but she kept pushing it back in on me over and over again, and the door wouldn't lock because she was holding it.  On the other side of the door she's beating on the door with her free hand and screaming at the top of her lungs "GIVE ME BACK MY STUFF!!!"  I was like what stuff?  I looked down and saw a bag.  I jiggled the doorknob and got it to give and finally locked it.  "YOU JUST WANT TO GO IN THERE TO LOOK IN MY BAG!!"  What?  I looked in her bag and all it had was baby wipes and a toilet bowl scrubby wand.  So in that moment, the rage of what was going on around me mixed with the fact that it was over absolutely nothing just bubbled up and I opened the door and chucked her bag across the fucking kitchen and relocked the door.  What in the holy hell was going on here?  

Then my husband came in and found her beating at the door and screaming (before I chucked it) and he said "OMG HOW OLD ARE YOU??  YOU NEED TO GO IN YOUR ROOM!"  He was scared she was going to hit me when I chucked her bag.  I didn't even think of it, but he was right.  She is known for hitting me when I do things that surprise her.  

She said "YOU CANNOT TELL ME TO GO IN MY ROOM!!"  

He replied "I just did.  Now go!"  

She said "GO TO HELL!!"  

So he replied "I just might.  But I will definitely see you there." 

She screamed back "NO YOU WON'T!"  

So this, ladies and gents, is what a narcissistic violent meltdown looks like.  One could say it's dementia related, but it's not much different than her regular violent meltdowns (which she's had plenty of).  She has issues with violence and always has.  She's, how do I put this lightly...like seriously too dumb to know that putting her hands on other people is wrong.  Which what makes her having dementia sort of scary.  Like, how far will she eventually take it?  Will she actually seriously hurt me someday?  

Well, she did hurt me today.  If you read yesterday's blog then you'd know that I spent the night in the ER Wednesday night with a 6.5cm cyst on my ovary (that they thought was a kidney stone, due to how much pain I was in).  And then today, with her pushing into the bathroom door and I was pushing back, my back now hurts pretty good again.  Not as much as Wednesday night, but it doesn't feel good, whereas it's been feeling better all day today.  Now I am laid up in bed again.  

Then my son comes up from downstairs, hearing her screaming and unleashes a torrent of screaming back on her (not at first, at first he was talking to her), telling her she's so horrible and mean and how she abused me my whole life and now she's still being mean to me.  That "My mother does everything for you and all you do is complain!!"  She replies "She doesn't have to do everything for me!!"  To which both my son and I reply "Yes we do!"  My poor kid has taken her shit for so many years and never ever yells at her (though he did raise his voice at her recently when she was being horrible, but that was the first time in many years, but it wasn't quite yelling).  

Then we all went back and forth, and she refuses to believe that my rules for her life have anything to do with her physical therapist's and doctor's recommendations.  She broke her fucking arm taking out the garbage once.  So, I don't let her take out the garbage anymore.  It's not rocket science.  She falls for no freaking reason.  Sometimes she falls for actual reasons (like when she tried to step over the dog and broke her ribs).  But normal people can catch themselves.  She cannot.  Which is why I have rules in place.  To her stupid ass safe.

Sigh.  

I know, I know.  My old therapist is rolling his eyes  right now (if he knew about any of this), because I fell RIGHT into her trap.  She baited me.  And just like a hungry little fishy (or rather, a stupid fish), I didn't notice the lure on the worm.  I just took that worm and ran with it.  And got myself hurt for it.  Like, physically hurt.  I mean, I didn't actually cause it, because she did it for no reason, but I guess I shouldn't have went in the bathroom to shut the door to keep her out (I just didn't want her to break the damn toilet again).  We have a bidet in that bathroom and the toilet leaks.  So when she gets ahold of anything in there, she makes it worse or breaks it.  So she's not allowed to clean in that bathroom.   But she doesn't care what I want.  And now we have to keep the bathroom locked when we're not at home.  I just have to find the key now.  

Double sigh.  

I think I am going to call her neurologist and let them know about this violent outburst.  Because what else can I do?  

Later that day, I grabbed her laundry and she said "No, that's okay, I can...."  So I said "What can you do, ma?  Nothing.  That's what.  You can't use the steps to do laundry, so I have to. so shush."  This was one of her arguments, that she can climb the stairs to do laundry, when her physical therapist said there was no way in hell she's allowed to use stairs due to her dizziness and falling.  The other day she got so dizzy she almost passed out because of her blood pressure.  So, what if that happened on the stairs?  Plus, she trips over her own feet.  And that could easily happen while trucking up or down the steps.  Yeah, I can give her a 1,000 reasons why things are not good ideas or why I've forbade them, and she doesn't care.  SHE wants to do it.  So it only matters what SHE wants.  Screw what's actually good for her.  Which is why I am her caretaker.  She is literally incapable of taking care of herself.  

She doesn't like my rules.  She refuses to abide by them.  And then we get into it about it.  I am so freaking done with this.  I can't wait until she can go into a home.  

Remember my post a few posts ago that said "I think I've broke her"?  Like a horse?  HA!!  She's not broke in the least.  She was just biding her time for this.  Yay.  

Well, time to go make dinner.  She's trying to act as though everything is normal now, no apology, just sweeping it under the rug like an asshole.  So I've been ignoring her and avoiding her.  But tomorrow I will say something.  Or maybe tonight.  The night is still young.  It's only 6:30pm.  If she catches me cooking and tries to talk to me, I will tell her how much she hurt my back and how her behavior was inappropriate.  Granted, it won't fix her.  But it will show her that I don't let her off the hook so easily.  That she can physically assault me and get away with it.  I won't tell her I am calling her doctors tomorrow, though.  There is no reason to.  It's not a threat, it's something that needs to be done.  

I am also going to call her kidney doc for an appointment and ask about the stuff she was lying to her friends about (being "observed for kidney cancer" and the stage 3 kidney disease she doesn't seem to have--though that's not lying, I think she was misdiagnosed).  So tomorrow is a busy day of doctor's calls (for me, too--eye doc and gynie for my cyst).  

Here is what I've learned since Wednesday: I cannot be sick (for real sick, not little sicks like migraines, those don't count in her eyes).  When I am, she will take advantage of the situation for her benefit under the guise it's for me (or, she will leave me out of it entirely).  She's a manipulator (though, we already knew that), and a schemer, and an exploiter.  I just thought she had gotten better with the years, but she's been masking it for a long time.  And now she saw her moment and pounced.  Right into the bathroom door.  

I don't even have to call her names here, because you get it. 

Well, time to go make dinner.  But I can hear her ass in the hallway so I will wait until she's back in her room.  I am so hungry, too.  And this is why I feel like a prisoner in my own house most of the time.  Sigh.  

Until, most likely, tomorrow. 

Well, that was not expected.  I fully expect my mother to be the one to ruin our holidays, as usually, that's who does it.  But this time, it was me.  

It was the night before Thanksgiving
And all thru our home
Most people were sleeping
Except me, cooking alone

In the kitchen
Making pumpkin pie
I had pain searing through my back
On the verge of making me cry

So I told my husband
There is something not right
Let's go to the ER
And there, let's spend the entire fucking night

They thought it was a kidney stone
And after four hours in the waiting room with balled up fists
Screaming in pain (and scaring the patients)
And lots of tests to find out it is a 6.5cm ovarian cyst 

And they sent me home and said  "Oh, just take some Tylenol and ibuprofen".  Um, okay.  That's what happened and I've been in pain ever since.  I don't even think that labor was that bad, as at least I had some reprieve between contractions.  Not this, this was straight on crescendo-ing pain until it ended with me barfing in the garbage can.  And then I could finally see straight again and speak.  I have to see my gynecologist soon for a checkup and hopefully they'll agree to a hysterectomy (vaginal, not abdominal).  But we'll see about that.  

Anyways, we left at 10pm and got home at 5am and the minute I walked through the door, my mother says "Oh, nobody even told me that you were gone!"  As if someone owed her a explanation.  She made this about her, because my dogs were barking so much.  Sigh.  

So then Thanksgiving came, and she took advantage of my inability to get out of bed to try to take control of the entire day.  She decided to clean the living room and then scream at my son that he wasn't helping her.  But she never said anything like "Hey, your mom is sick, so let's surprise her and clean the living room together!" No, she just went in there, yelling it was a mess, and then bitching the entire time and then demanding my oldest son help her.  I told him not to.  I said "Hey, she decided to do this, let her do it alone."  If she can't be nice, she doesn't deserve help.  Then, my husband and youngest son went to the store and my oldest stayed home to take care of me.  He also made my mom's cigarettes for me.  

She also tried to take over the kids making dinner, but soon gave up and they made everything (well, half of everything, as they also made a second Thanksgiving dinner on Friday).  Friday comes, I am still not able to walk.  I couldn't stand for more than a few seconds without being in tons of pain (like, I could make it to the bathroom and back, and that's it). But I did feel better enough to go into the living room to play Wytchwood all day, and my son grabbed the cigarette machine and brought it into the living to watch me play while he made her cigarettes again (I usually make enough for many days, but I hadn't beforehand).  My mother saw him and said "Oh, I was just going to ask Shay if she wanted me to do that."  I laughed and said "NOPE."  So instead of just saying "Haha okay!" or anything else that a normal person would say, she decided to turn this into something.  Yes, while I am laying on the couch in lots of pain, she decided to play the victim and make me look like I was the one being mean.  

Me: "NOPE."

Her: "Why not??"

Me: (so frustrated she's asking me once AGAIN, after I've said no fifty fucking times before, and now here I was sick and she was trying to take advantage of the situation--so safe to say, I wasn't going to play nice--so I decided to be honest for once, instead of making a joke out of it)  "Because I've told you a hundred times no already."  

Her: "But why not?"  

Me: "Because you'll break it." 

Her: "I've made them before!" 

Me: "Once."

Her: "No, I made a bunch!"

Me: "One time." 

Her: "Grandson (she used his name), didn't I do them before?" 

Me: (she loves to involve my son in our arguments because she knows he's uncomfortable with it and I hate that)  "I KNOW you've done it before, mother, but it was only one time.  I said no." 

Her: "GRANDSON!  Didn't I do them before?"  

Me: "You're welcome, ma."  

Her: "For what??  For not being able to make my own cigarettes?" 

Me: (good fucking lord)  "No, you're welcome that we make them for you at all." 

Her: "Well, this prevents you from having to buy them for me!"

Me: "You think this is free?  Surprise, it's not.  Just say thank you and stop trying to make a big deal out of stupid things.  Plus, if I let you have the machine?  You'll cost me more than it cost me to buy you cartons, as you'll smoke yourself into a coma." 

Her:  "Wow, someone is in a bad mood!!"  

Me: (laughs loudly)  "Yes, I am in the one in the bad mood for telling you the truth!  Yet, I am not the one who started this.  You're welcome that you get cigarettes we make for you.  Now let's be done with this." (I turn my game back on with the volume loud)

Her: (blabbering on about it, but we just ignored her)

So, safe to say I was pretty annoyed after that.  BUT, I was happy to be honest with her for once.  I usually avoid confrontation (because this is how she acts) and just beat around the bush or makes jokes.  Not this time.  And I would like to also say "not anymore".  

Today, my mother's BFF Christmas called to come over.  For once, she called me, because last time it was fucking chaos and my husband got annoyed with her and said "You really should have called first" because we asked her to call first, and she came over twice after that, and didn't call first.  So after my husband got a pissy at her, and told her to call.  Of course my mother heard him say that and told her "Oh, you never have to call first!"  But she said "No, they asked me to, so I am going to."  Funny, I asked her to several surprise visits ago.  Sigh.  But she did today, so we put our dog away (he's a fucking nuisance--he's a puppy) and cleaned up.  Exactly why we wanted her to call first and it worked out quiet well.  So she came over, my mother tried to give her my eggs again, I said no, she got annoyed with me.  But hot damn, those chickens are mine and she needs to stop acting like she has ownership over MY things.  I know it sounds selfish, but she's worse than a little sister, the way she's touched my shit for my entire life.  This has made me VERY possessive over my things with her.  Not with others so much, but with her.  As a child, it made me possessive with everyone over my stuff.  I hated people touching my things, as my mother always thought she could do whatever she wanted with my things.  

So I said no.  Then I went to the bathroom, which has been very hard for me to do since all this, as going pee REALLY hurts my abdomen (I guess your bladder can push on your cyst and when it empties, it will push the cyst around, causing pain).  So I heard her then relay the entire story of what happened to me to Christmas.  Sigh.  So I tore of the bathroom and walked right in and said:

Me: "Listen, thank you so much for telling my private medical issues to your friends." 

Her: (eyeroll)  "It's just Christmas.  You don't care if she knows." 

Me: "Of course I do.  I don't want you to tell anyone about my medical issues.  It's nobody business but MINE to tell people." (I went into the living room and shut the door)

Me: "It's not like I tell anyone your medical issues." (there is a hole in the wall I covered in chicken wire because I haven't replaced the wall yet--we put up a door in the living room to keep our animals out so they don't piss on the furniture--we have TOO many elderly pets)

Her: "You mean to tell me you don't tell anyone that I'm crazy?" (she's making jokes now)

Me: "Oh mother, I don't need to tell anyone that.  They all already know."  

Her and Christmas: (burst into laughter)

And that's how we deal with shit in this house.  She makes a joke out of her mistakes and never actually apologizes.  And she never did.  For either things, the cigarette issue or this.  But, I am proud of myself for, once again, standing straight up to her and telling the truth, rather than making it funny or beating around the bush.  Maybe she won't tell people my business anymore.  I mean, she probably will, but maybe she'll think twice next time?  Or maybe she'll double down.  You never know how she will act.  

But you know what?  Having someone else cook all the food (well, I put the turkey in our electric roaster on Wednesday--we slow roast it, 350 degrees for 30 min, then 200 for around 10 hours) and I get to sit on the couch playing video games while I ate??  I told my hubby and kids "This is my childhood dream come true!  That little kid in me is just having such a wonderful time right now!!"  My entire childhood I BEGGED my mother to eat in the kitchen or in my room, and if I did without anyone noticing, she'd come find me and FORCE me to eat at the table with my idiot family.  I had such horrible issues eating around other people (which I will talk about my next post), that I would just sit there at the table with all my family, and try not to throw up.  I think I lived so much of my childhood trying not to throw up for so many different reasons, as that's how my anxiety presented back then.  The crazy part is living with her again is bringing that back, after years and years of healing from it.  

But sitting there, in the living room, eating a holiday dinner I didn't cook, playing video games, it was damn awesome.  And I got to do it two days in a row!  Lucky me :)  

I am better now.  But it still hurts.  But at least I can sleep now.  And I can pee with out pain again, yay!  That first night I didn't sleep at all.  I am waiting on the gynecologist to call to get me an appointment.  Hopefully they'll call by Monday.  But that's our Thanksgiving.  

Oh, and because of this, I decided to still go through with rehoming our chickens.  And I found a person in town who's going to take them all.  I am soooo happy!  No making them a new winter coop, either!  Yay!  I hope she picks them up soon.  Another reason I am not giving away my eggs anymore.  These are the last I will ever have (until one day when I get new chickens...but that won't be for a long time).  

Okay that's it.  Hope your Thanksgiving was uneventful and tasty.  And I hope the next holiday ours will be, too.  Ugh!