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!  

22 years ago my father died.  He left no will, so my mother got everything.  Except the house.  Although she got that, too, in the end, by tricking me out of signing my half of what she sold it for away.  I find it weird there was no will.  I think there may have been a will, but my mother destroyed it.  Because I distinctly remember her saying that as long as I was married to my husband at the time, my father said he would write me out of his will.  Funny, when my mother forced me to marry him in the first place "You have to get married or I will not accept this baby!"  

So, today my husband took my mother to get blood drawn and she was just chattering on per usual.  She was going on and on and on about my father's boss, saying he gave her $1,000 per week while my father was dying in the hospital and then when he died, he gave her $10,000 and offered her my father's old job (saying he would train her).  In the 22 years since his death, this is the first I've heard of any of it.  

She also said that he came to see him once a week with forcing my mother to call him every single day to update him on his health.  And again, I've never heard that story before.  Plus, I was there.  I never saw it happen.  I call bullshit.  I am not sure on how much of it, but definitely about how much he had to do with us while he was sick (which was only five weeks).  My mother is loaded up with bullshit stories.  And now she's even telling some more:

So apparently, she's pulling a Douche Canoe (the story on this guy is in one of my memoirs) and is pretending she "almost" has cancer to gain sympathy from an old friend who actually had cancer.  She knows damn well she's lying, taking old information and now acting like it's current.  Geezus.  She's also running around saying she has Stage 3 kidney disease, except she doesn't.  This, though, I will give her a pass on, because for some reason she was diagnosed with this many years ago, but after checking all her medical records, there is ZERO indication she has it or even ever had it.  I am going to ask to see a new nephrologist or talk to her current one and ask for a reevaluation of her entire medical history to see why she was diagnosed in the first place.  What a pain in the ass.

Anyways, the lying about "almost" having cancer is total bullshit.  I guess it makes her feel special to get sympathy like that.  I mean, I've exaggerated pain to get out doing something I didn't want to do, but I'd never lie about having a deadly disease.  I mean, how demeaning that is to his suffering to do so!  Then she also lied to both her BFF Christmas and my aunt that her basement was full of old stuff she used to care about but the she realized she didn't look at it or do anything with it and just got rid of it all.  That never happened.  My mother freaks the fuck out if I get rid of anything that's hers.  Too bad I did get rid of most of her old shit that was taking up space in our basement that she NEVER even realized she still had.  But she doesn't know that.  Or does she?  I have a feeling she's been making trips to the basement to snoop around while we're gone.  I used to lock the door but I haven't been lately.  And now I wish I had, because I wonder if she knows I got rid of most everything (my stuff, too, not just hers).  She loves to make up stories about things like that.  Like back when I was a teenager, I stole some money from my grandma who lived with us (I was young, and granny had really bad dementia, and my mother gave her cash every single week, yet never took my grandma to the store to spend it, so her drawers were just stuffed with cash...so, I sort of helped myself to it back then--I also shoplifted at that age, too--I had issues), and she now tells the story about how my boyfriend was the one who stole it, even though he didn't live with us at the time.  She knew damn well it was me at the time.  But she likes to spin stories.  She even one time lied and told my stepfather that she started some tradition that I started with my kids.  She said she started it when I was a kid because I was a brat.  So, not only did she steal my tradition from me, she spun the story to make me look bad to him.  This is the way of the narcissist.  

But to lie about being on the verge of being sick?  Holy shit, that's low, even for her.  I mean, stealing money from me, telling lies about me, all of that I expect from her.  But to lie to a sick friend about something like that?  She really has no freaking clue how horrible that really is.  

But that's my mother for ya.  

Thanksgiving is in two days.  Wanna bet she tries to ruin it?  She hasn't the past two holidays, but this past week has been a doozy for her, getting her all hyped up on power and control again.  So we'll see how it goes.  Until then.  Or sooner, if she acts up.  

It's odd, to live with someone for so much of your life who acts in a fashion that makes them almost a monster.  In a fashion that living with them is akin to some sort of torture.  But then one day, you realize, that the wild horse monster that once used to be your mother is gone, and now she's a domesticated mare.  That horse that once bucked her way from sunup to sundown has now, been broken.  And it happened in such a way that you may have noticed it a little, but when it fully happened, you didn't even see it.  

I am not saying she still isn't bucking on the inside.  Or that she won't revert immediately to that monster horse the minute someone gives her the ability to.  But there used to be a time, like a 40+ year stretch, where my mother couldn't help but to be a biting, farting, kicking, cruel horse (I feel bad to compare to her a horse, horses are majestic and she's an old sea hag).  She couldn't help but to be not only bossy, but to pay so much attention to every little thing that she watched you and made a constant commentary on every teeny-tiny little thing she could, like some kind of obsessed asshole chatterbox.  Everything I said, everything I wore, everything I ate, everything I was doing, etc., it was all commented on.  And this wasn't just me, it was everyone around her she'd do this to.  And it got to the point I'd just want to turn around and smack her.  But of course I never did, because I'm not violent.  But it was exhausting.  And tedious.  And geezus, that's how someone gets CPTSD on top of the CPTSD they already have.  And that's why in 2020, I literally felt like I was going insane and my anxiety was at all time high.  The anxiety I got rid of from childhood came roaring back at full force, and hit me like a ton of bricks all at once.  I almost stopped eating because I was so scared to leave my room to get food (her constant comments on me feeding myself still gives me a twinge of shame to this day).  To experience what I used to feel like as a child living with my mother all over again in my middle 40's?  I have no idea what would be going on today if I hadn't taken charge back of my life.  

Which meant, I had to break her.  

I had to take ALL the power back and not let her have an ounce.  Not because I don't know how to share, but because if you give her an inch, she will take a mile.  And then try to take even more.  So I had to take it all.  And then I had to put my foot down, over and over again.  And if she didn't listen, I had to MAKE her listen (I tell her she can't take in or out the garbage cans because she falls too much, she won't listen, so I locked up the garbage cans, etc.).  And then I had to let things slip.  I had to stop trying to be so organized and clean.  I had to let stuff pile up a little bit.  I had to make her live in a little bit of a mess she could get used to it and stop caring if one tiny thing was out of place.  It's called exposure therapy.  

Listen, I have two kids with ASD.  One is a completely organized minimalist.  No, he's not always the cleanest, like he doesn't do dishes and the such, but his room is immaculate (it's how he manages his anxiety).  And he doesn't make a mess in anywhere but the kitchen.  Whereas my oldest son is the exact opposite.  He's more like me in that respect.  We both have ADHD and we have a really hard time with our executive function which leads us to be bad with organization.  Though I am much older, so I have had experience on how to get better with that.  Since 2016 I've been on a journey to be more clean and organized.  You wouldn't know it, but I do try.  But back when all of this was going on, I was busting my ass cleaning every single day, to the point of burnout.  I know, I know, you're reading this and saying "Every single day?  That's normal."  Yup. It is for a lot of people.  But I also have two kids I do things for all day long, plus at the time 4 dogs, and who knows how many cats, and then my mother.  I cook, I clean, I do all the laundry, I dole out meds at least 3x a week, I do all the financial planning, and pay all the bills, I plan all the doctors appointments for all 5 adult humans, do all the grocery planning and shopping and every other little thing that could possibly happen each day.   Which is a LOT of things that happen.  Plus, I'm a writer, an artist, I own my own shop where I make my own line of clothing, and I read a lot.  Plus, I have fibromyalgia, POTS, chronic migraines and cervicogenic headaches (which are migraines in the base of your head that stem from your neck) and severe anxiety and SAD.  So when I say I don't clean every day, that's why.  Take an ADHD brain and fill it to the fucking brim on a regular basis and watch what happens.  It's not pretty.  It could end up with me spending a week in bed in excruciating pain.  And when I am overwhelmed, add in 5 barking dogs and a kid with impulsive/hyperactive ADHD and a mother who literally calls my name at least every 5 minutes to ask me to do something (or her constant commentary), and then ask me why I am having a meltdown in my bed with my door locked for days on end.  My mother taught me very early on living in this house with her that my only place is in my bedroom with my door locked. 

And that's why I had to stop busting my ass trying to please her by keeping the house perfectly clean.  I also used to do the dishes every single day myself, too.  So little by little, I started slacking on housework so I could give my body and brain a rest before my overwhelm became an overload and I exploded into dust.  

So now, I delegate.  Well, only to my husband, because my kids only help with things in the moment, not regular things.  Though, my youngest does do his own laundry sometimes.  So that's good.  My oldest, and I am not bashing him here, has this "learned helplessness".  Today, that means something totally different than it was used in the early 2000's when I heard about it.  It was referring to kids with ADHD and ASD (though we didn't call it that back then) who learned at a young age to be helpless and refused to do anything for themselves.  It's like, there is a wall preventing them from thinking they are capable of doing thing these things.  And if you try to force them to, they have a meltdown.  So, you have to get through that meltdown (or two) in order to get them to accept that they can do it.  But after more than 20 years of meltdowns, sometimes it's just easier to do it for him.  I know it's a bad thing to teach him that, but I have too much on my plate to endure more grown people having meltdowns.  We work with him all the time to help him get better so he can live in the adult world, but it's not easy and it's slow going.

So my husband does dishes and sometimes gets laundry from the basement for me when it's done.  That's as far as my delegation goes LOL  Sigh.  So, sometimes I don't put things away when I should.  Sometimes the dishes aren't done.  Sometimes I don't sweep when I should.  Or clean the bathroom sink when I should.  And I let my oldest son, who was using the living room as his bedroom due to flooding in the basement, make a fucking mess and I don't go in there to clean it up.  And she has to live with it.  It's not squalor.  

Now, I grew up in squalor.  Sure, on the surface, it was organized, but open a drawer, a closet, or a closed bedroom door and you'd see nothing but chaos spilling out all over the floor.  But even with the "so-called' surface organization, my house was covered in literal animal piss, shit, fur, and dirt.  I don't think our carpets were ever cleaned with a machine once.  Oh god, when I think about my childhood home, I can still smell it.  That's the first memory that comes back to me when I picture those carpets.  Shudder.  Also, our walls??  They were completely yellowed with 3rd hand smoke, complete with the obligatory humidity-created brown drips.  It was on everything.  So, if my mother has to sit in a little clutter?  So be it.  It's helping her be a better person.  At least on the outside.  Also, if I had to grow up in actual squalor?  Then she can endure a little uncomfortableness herself.  Granted, I had to endure WAY more than squalor.  I had to live with a couple of drunken beasts who physically and emotionally abused each other (and me).  So yeah, clutter isn't a big deal compared to that.  

Which is what I'd say to her if she ever brought it up LOL  

But she doesn't at all anymore.  She doesn't constantly bitch the fridge didn't shut right (it's one of those two-door thingies that get stuck).  She doesn't talk about what other people eat.  She doesn't bitch, moan, or complain about anything being dirty or messy or whatever.  Although, yesterday she bitched my son left a bowl in the living room.  Ohhh, had I been in there, I would have laid into her and told her she doesn't do the dishes, so she needs to shush.  And they're MY dishes (which is what I told her one time when she has an utter meltdown about my son having supposed dishes in his room) since I bought them.  But alas, my husband was in there and defended him, which was good.  But other than that, she doesn't say a word anymore.  

I think she said something smart-assy to Christmas yesterday on the phone about the house being a bit messy, but I didn't hear it as I was talking to my husband and missed it.  But to our faces, she's quiet about it.  Which is kind of amazing.  I honestly didn't think she had it in her to ever be quiet.  But it's been a very long road to get to this point.  And all I had to do was take 100% of her power away.  Like that was an easy thing to do LOL  And had she never gotten dementia or gotten sick it never would have happened.  

I like this version of her.  I mean, I like her better than before.  I still don't usually like her.  She's still mean and bossy and will literally stab me in the back the moment she's given the opportunity to.  But still, she's better than she used to be and that makes my days so much easier.  It's about the best I can ask for, I guess.  

Does she mean it?  Like deep down?  Oh hell no.  She's just learned she can't do anything about it so she gave up.  Which is what today's version of "learned helplessness" actually means.  From Wikipedia: "Learned helplessness is the behavior exhibited by a subject after enduring repeated aversive stimuli beyond their control. It was initially thought to be caused by the subject's acceptance of their powerlessness, by way of their discontinuing attempts to escape or avoid the aversive stimulus, even when such alternatives are unambiguously presented."  Also, it's a huge reason that depression happens.  Sounds cruel, right?  But know that to a narcissist, an "adverse stimuli" would mean losing their power.  The power in which they use for evil.  

• My mother used her power over her finances to control me and others around her who didn't have money (like her old BFF Valentine's, who she used money to completely control, as the woman was always broke).  She would dangle money as a way to get you do things for her, too, knowing you needed it, the way the mafia or some other crime organization does.  
• My mother used her power to drive herself places as a way to control myself and others, by never ever being the person who rode with anyone, but always drove.  That way she controlled where you were going with her, how long it would take, etc.  She used it as a way to have complete power over the other person.  
• She used her power of always making people visit her and never visiting anyone as way to control what you did with your life.  Coming to see her was you making an effort.  But if she didn't come to see you, that was okay, because you were supposed to come see her.  My in-laws did the same exact thing. 
• She used her power of friendships to make other people jealous and pit them against each other.  She would be on the discard part of their friendship cycle (or with me) and then talk shit about that person to other people in her group so everyone hated them.  It was the only way she could entertain herself and get narcissistic supply.
• She used her power as a pet owner to act like her pet liked her more than you.  And if that pet showed they liked you more in any given moment, she would literally call them a traitor and punish them for it.  
• She used her power of owning the house you live in to think she was owed the ability to use your stuff as her stuff and literally rearrange it every single day, or hide your things because she didn't like them.  She still rearranged the kitchen on a daily basis even after she stopped cooking. 
• She used her power as the "Queen of the Holidays" as an excuse to be super verbally and emotionally abusive to anyone she wanted help from.  Which is why she is banned from ever setting foot in the kitchen during the holidays anymore.

So, last night I told her that her friend was rude and mean to me.  She said "Yes, that's how she is" with an eyeroll and giggled about it.  My mother is so tolerant of actual assholes, yet of the people that she supposedly loves, she has ZERO tolerance for.  I mean, I realize she's not normal.  I know this.  So this should not surprise me.  And honestly, it doesn't.  It just annoys me.  That someone can be rude about her daughter, BOLD FACED LIE about her, and then just act like it didn't even happen.  

Sigh.  

So that's where we're at.  She still wants to be friends with this lady.  Oh well.  At least I can control it in a more subtler way if I have to.  I wish I didn't have to, but obviously this woman is toxic and tries to get between my mother and I (my mother does that enough on her own without an idiot helping her).  The last thing I need is some kind of instigating asshole in our lives.  I may call Christmas and discuss her assholery with her, especially if I hear this lady say some reckless shit to my mother.  That way I can block that bitch from calling us, and Christmas may just ignore her calls.  But that would only be a desperate situation.  

Like, take that old kid from our neighborhood.  He was violent and had some sort of mental disability and tired to push a table into my mother's stomach.  I had to put a stop to him coming over, even though my mother wanted him to come back (like I said, she makes HORRIBLE decisions for herself).  I had to step in and threaten his father (his father literally threatened us if I told his son he couldn't come over and I told the guy I was going to call the police if I saw him or his son anywhere near my house).  It was a mess!  I swear, she makes friends with horrible people just so I have to step in and stop it.  Like, it's a way to get attention from me.  But it's not like I have a choice.  

And here's the thing: there are some adults, who feel like adults.  They can take charge and be bossy to their mothers and know that they are only ones whose opinion matters.  But that's not me.  I am the type of adult who constantly feels like a child because my mother never let me be in charge of anything, not even my own life.  I let her walk all over me, bully, and abuse me, usually without saying a word.  If I tried to take charge, I always came off sounding and looking like an idiot (or at least feeling like one).  So to take on this new role, it's weird.  I mean, I am starting to own it, but at the same time, I am still this child who is terrified of dealing with her meltdowns (and boy does she have meltdowns), so I avoid it at all costs, unless I can't.  But I have no idea how to be this person and be nice.  Now, I am a very nice person.  I am caring and kind.  But when I have to take charge of my mother, I have to put up this stupid wall that makes me look like a closed off cunt.  My mother probably assumes I am always in a bad mood.  But I am not.  It's just around her.  Also, add in the fact I am always angry at her, deep down, so that prolly adds to my closed-offness.  Then yesterday, after I told her about her stupid friend, I changed it up.  It started about the record I bought from her friend, it's from my childhood, this Christmas record of "Mitch Miller and the Gang".  So then we started talking about records, then I talked to her about our old cabinet record player growing up that kind of looked like this: 

Yesterday mother had a MELTDOWN of epic proportions because we couldn't go to her old friend's house to go shopping.  Nobody said to go on Saturday, but she thought that's what I said so she told her friend we were coming at 10 am.  News to me!  So my son woke me up and said "Listen, you have to go talk to grandma, I am not going to deal with her about this.  She got it in her head that we were going today and if I tell her we're not, she's going to be PISSED.  So I am not leaving your room until you talk to her, because she will catch me on the way out and ask what we're doing."  

Also, just so you know, I do not exaggerate conversations on my blog.  I may word them slightly differently only because I cannot always 100% remember what was said.  But I do not add things in for dramatic effect or anything like that.  I read Glennon Doyle's book "Untamed" and it felt like every single conversation with her kids and other people were like some kind of learning moment Ted Talk, which you know is 100% embellished.  That's not a memoir.  That's an inspirational book.  But here, if I tell you I said something or someone else said something, I write it the way I remember it.  Okay, back to the story. 

Oh good grief.  Everyone wants to be woken up at 8:45 am on a Saturday with that hanging over their heads.  So my son hung out with me until I fully woke up and went out the door.  I quietly shut my mother's door (she's about 75% deaf, so I can do shit like that and she doesn't even know) and went into the kitchen my son and we giggled that we got away with leaving my room without being caught.  But this is the kind of jail I live in most days: I have to sneak around so my mother doesn't catch me and then ask me either for 1,000 things to get or for me to do, or presenting me with some cockamamie idea I have to say no to.  But then I just said to myself "just do it", so I strapped on my invisible Nikes and opened her door.  Deep breath.  

Me: Hey, I have to go get a plate sticker on my car today, otherwise we're going to get a ticket.  Then I have to take our SUV to get D a bed (D is the particular son in this event).  

Her: (insert screaming and yelling and melting down here)  Then hurry up and go!!  

Me: Ma, it's the freaking DMV.  I have no idea how long it will be.  

Her: (gives me a shitty look, like I am an idiot and thinking "yeah right")

Me: We can go tomorrow. 

Her:  We just don't need to go at all!!!

Me: Grow up.  (this part may be a little out of order, I know I said other things too, but there was a point when I did tell her to grow up and stop acting like a child because she kept saying really stupid over the top things)

Her: (insert more fit throwing here)  (then, ten minutes later, she's in the living room screaming at my son about it)

We leave the house and get the plate sticker (which ended up being so freaking fast), then we came back home, grabbed some cash (for what I am going to tell you about in a second), took our SUV to get my son's bed and stopped to get more cash for the bed, and then got the bed and then....

I called her old friend and asked if just me and my husband could come over to look at the stuff.  

Here's the deal:  the guy who died had tons of WWII tanks and little green men.  My son does war gaming and that's why we were going to go over there, to see the tanks that my mother all week was pushing her old friend NOT to tell until my son saw them.  So, we went over there, I took pics of the tanks, sent the pics to my kids, they said they didn't want them.  

So then my hubby saw there were tons of BRAND NEW 1st edition Stephen King books, and my hubby is a horror fan (and a horror writer), decided to buy them.  Not all, but like 13 of them.  I bought two records, and my mother wanted this stupid clock she had.  At first, her old friend didn't want to sell the clock, but then she relented.  And then she became obsessed with my mother buying this stupid clock.  I saw the clock.  I hated the clock.  And she quoted me at $50 for the clock.  I said no.  She said then $40.  I said maybe, but I don't have cash for that until later in the week.  Then in the basement, while we were looking at the records, she then said $45.  I was like what?  I didn't say anything, but then and there I decided we were not buying the clock.  Who am I kidding?  I was never going to buy it.  It's old and smelly and ugly.  

So I owed her $10, which is why I grabbed my cash, and paid her another $16, and we left.  I thought it went nicely.  Turns out, that wasn't the case at all.   

Today, that lady called and was LIVID.  She said I was jerking her around so she upped the price on me for the clock.  She was bitching about how I got her number (off my caller ID, you idiot).  She was so annoyed about the entire thing...I'm all like bitch, I just gave you $26 for stuff that is not even yours.  The guy she was a caretaker for died and she's selling all his stuff (nobody is claiming it).  She was acting like I did something wrong, when the truth is that in person, I am in the nicest person ever.  I am polite and sometimes even charming (haha not really, I am more awkward than anything).  My personal skillset is customer service, so I know how to be nice to people, even when I am terribly uncomfortable, which I was.  The entire time she followed me around like a hawk, or followed my husband around like a hawk, and acted like were there to steal things from her.  She was rude, pushy, and annoying.  And, like I told my hubby, she gave me the vibe of an old woman who likes to murder little boys.  Why?  I have no idea.  But I could so see her on one of those true crime shows, smiling in a picture over the bones all of her victims.  She freaks me out.  

So she calls my mother, yelling about me, and then trying to force her to buy the clock.  Then my mother had the audacity to ask if it even worked.  Since the woman told me that it has never left the wall.  Oh boy, she didn't like that and was pissed.  "I WOULDN'T SELL YOU SOMETHING THAT DIDN'T WORK!"  So my mother asked "Well, if you haven't checked it out, how do you know?"  "OH, I KNOW!!"  Yeah, I first thought the woman, from her phone calls with my mother, was a narcissist.  Then I met her and thought nah, she's just severely aspergery.  Now?  I know she's both.  

Well, two can play at that game.  I am going to tell my mother she was rude to me and was annoyed we didn't buy the tanks (which was one things she was really angry about on the phone).  All the things she said about me on the phone, I will say she said in person to me.  Then I'd like to see if they stay friends (they aren't really friends...they knew each other years ago from a single job they worked at together and she used to call my mother 50x a day to ask for rides).

Here's the thing.  I don't like manipulating people or lying.  BUT, I will do it if the person is incapable of protecting themselves or if they are friends with someone who puts my family at risk.  I only step in when I absolutely have to.  And now I can see this bitch manipulating my mother, so I am going to do it right back to her to break up their friendship.  When we move in here?  My  mother used to be friends with a drug dealer and his wife.  So, I changed the woman's telephone number on my mother's list of numbers, so she could never contact her again.  Sometimes, we have to do what we have to, in order to protect ourselves and those we care about (and those we take care of).  My mother is too stupid to know that being friends with a HARDCORE drug dealer is dangerous for both herself and my family.  So, I squashed that shit like a bug.  And now it's time to attempt to squash this one, too.  

The thing is?  I could have just gone onto our account for our phones and blocked this woman from calling. BUT now my mom's BFF Christmas gave this woman her number and she'll just call her to get ahold of my mom if she can't get through here.  Sigh.  So I can't do that.  Otherwise I would and it would have made things so much easier.  And then I could have changed this woman's number on my mom's list, too.  But alas, I have to try it the hard way by trying to show my mom what an asshole she is.  We'll see what happens.  Knowing my mother, she won't even care.  

So, I talked about how she made plans to go with her BFF to her old friend's house and how she screamed "NO!" when Christmas asked if I was going to go with.  And then when I said no, I wasn't going, she had a bit of a panic attack, freaking out and trying to guilt me, saying "Oh!  I thought we were going to go together and have some fun!"  She didn't want me to go with, she needed me to, as she has anxiety when she goes places with other people driving that she's not used to.  

So, then she wanted to bring my kids back to the lady's house so they could pick out some stuff.  Remember, I am paying for it all, which would be fine if it was my boys' idea.  But it's not.  She'll be running around picking shit out for them without their permission, and forcing me to keep telling her no.  

So she wanted to go on Friday (this was Tuesday).  I said "No, I can't leave my dog home alone, he will destroy the house".  My black lab has dementia and he rips apart doors all the time when he starts having doggy panic attacks.  So I said we'll go this weekend.  She called her friend and told her this and she said it was fine.  So today is Friday, and at 8am my son comes in and says "Can grandma and I take my brother (I am not using names here) over to that lady's house at 10?"  I said "Huh?  No.  We had plans for the weekend to go."  "Well, grandma keeps saying she has to call her."  I said "No she doesn't.  She already talked to her and they agreed on the weekend."  He was confused because my mother led him to believe that they had plans for today. 

Message one that I wasn't wanted on this trip. 

Then I go into the living room with my oldest son and we're chatting and my mother starts talking from the kitchen all about how I shouldn't go with because there will be nothing I will like and blah blah blah and she's making up shit and going on about it.  Hmmm...the lady doth protest too much, methinks.  Message two.  I wonder what's up her sleeve this time?  I wonder if she wants my son to take her places she's not allowed to go to?  Or maybe she wants the freedom to take what she wants from this lady's house without me saying no.  See, she cant take the items and put me in the position to HAVE to pay her later, because what I am going to do, return it?  Yeah.  She's not getting away with that.  I am going with and we're going to have a VERY low spending limit.  She's already spent $10 that I owe the woman.  Especially considering I am buying my son a bed tomorrow AND paying for a license plate sticker for our car (it's expired, oops!).  She won't be happy, but there is nothing I can do about that.  She LOVES to overspend on stuff, so I have to be there to stop her.  One time?  She took my husband to Home Depot and came home with a fucking chainsaw.  The old woman can't even stand up without holding onto something and she thought she could handle a chainsaw! LOL  What in the absolute potato head was she thinking?  She doesn't think.  Which is why I am her caretaker.  

Sigh.  

So much fun.  Yay.  Going where I am not wanted.  

And I won't pretend it doesn't bother me a little, to be rejected by her like this.  To know I am only a tool in her arsenal of bullshit.  But then again, so is everyone else.  

Ugh.  I'll let you know how it goes.  

Oh, also, I forgot to add, she asked before leaving with Christmas and her husband (they picked her up) if Christmas could have two dozen of my eggs.  Um, huh?  Yeah, I said no.  Dat bitch don't get shit from me.  She's two-faced AND those chickens are mine, and what comes out of them are also mine to give away, not hers.  She kept promising my eggs to her friends, as though she had any say so.  One time Christmas showed up with an 18-pack empty carton to fill up and my chickens weren't even laying yet.  I really hate that, but it makes me giggle to keep saying no.  Sorry!  #notyourstogiveaway