So uh, my mom's BFF Christmas just came over without telling me she was doing so and got annoyed I would not let her in.  She was supposed to come over last week, but my house is PACKED with crap due to the fact my hubby and I traded rooms with our oldest son (the living room).  You couldn't even get to the front door!  Much less the kitchen.  But I told her my husband was sick (which he is).

So, I said later this week.  She called on Tuesday, I said he was still sick.  She said "Maybe Friday?"  I said I will let you know.  She called last night, I didn't see it until late.  She called his morning, I didn't answer, as I didn't want to deal with it.  We're still organizing everything and the kitchen is still packed with boxes.  There is ZERO room for her to visit.  And I didn't want to explain all that.  

NOR SHOULD I HAVE TO.  

This is MY house.  I live here.  I do not owe a single person an explanation for why they cannot visit.  Why it's not a good time.  Yes, my mother lives here, too, but I have things going on right now, I can't help that people cannot come over at the moment. 

But apparently she called and said she was coming over, something I told her a long time ago she was not allowed to do.  I told her she needs permission to visit, as I have a very aggressive dog (to strangers in his house, to us he's not aggressive to us at all and he is trying to like strangers outside of his house and doing quite well with it) and because I need to make sure it's clean.  Because, WTF.  Who doesn't want to clean up before someone stops by???  

Sigh.  

So, Christmas (not the holiday) was bored.  She's someone who always needs something to do, or else she gets anxious.  And she wanted something to do today, apparently, and thought that she could just disobey my house's rules, and just pop over for a visit with my mom.  Here are the reasons why that's not allowed: 

1. My house is not always put together.  a) Right now I have a HUGE burn pile built up in the kitchen (we burn our paper and cardboard), b) our dishes aren't done, c) the floor needs a good mopping, and d) THERE ARE FOUR HUGE PLASTIC BINS FILLED WITH STUFF BLOCKING EVERYTHING.  Some of those bins are for our garage sale, but most are to figure out where they need to go.  I am in the process of organizing and cleaning, I do not need someone, esp. a judgmental asshole who hates messy spaces, coming over and seeing my mess.  And yes, she's a judgmental asshole, as she's bitched to me before about having to clean her friend's fridge (she was paid to do it), and she kept talking about how "horribly disgusting it was".  I was like, "Why would she need you clean it if it was clean already???!!"  What an idiot.  
2. I have a mean dog.  He's actually pretty lovely and lovey and kind and sweet and adorable.  But he HATES strangers at his house.  He will BITE them.  Enough said.  She sat there today, saying "I won't catch what your husband has, I can just come through!" while my dog was going NUTS at the door, trying to break it down.  I was standing there like "Can you not see how stressful this is for me?  Cannot you not hear the rage in my dog's barks?  Do you want to come in and have him bite you??"  I need to either remove him from my house when she comes over or crate him.  Recently, my son has been taking him out on a leash when she comes over to get him used to her.  I hate it, but it seems to be working.  
3. I don't have a doorbell that works, I can't hear her knocking.  Today, though, she called my mom's number, which made me run to the door to answer it, because otherwise my mom would try to come out into my room to let her him, even though there is ZERO room for her to, and my mom is not allowed in my room. 
4. IT'S JUST FUCKING RUDE IF I ALREADY TOLD HER NOT TO DO IT!!  And I did tell her not to do it, more than once.  And she agreed.  Now the crazy woman has a cell phone, so she can call the moment she's on the porch and if I don't answer, she will call our house phone, which rings my mom's room.  Next time I will turn off the internet so the phones won't work LOL  

I found my first best friend.  Again.  I've looked her up many times in my life.   I've always wanted to contact her, but I don't know what to say.  I know she's most likely a narcissist.  Maybe not.  I had my best friend's daughter pegged for one, and she turned out to be a really wonderful adult.  Same goes for my kids' oldest stepsister.  She used to be horrible but grew up sweet and kind.  But there was something different about Tricia.  That's her real name.  I have no reason to hide it.  Granted, if I compared her to my best friend's daughter, I couldn't say they were that much different.  But then again, my BFF's daughter didn't hurt people for fun.   I was like 4 when I met her, but I knew her for many years, and that's my memory over 40 year later.  

I remember being in an argument with her and her reaching out and shoving me into a rosebush.  And I was stuck and screaming and my mom came out and Tricia followed us indoors into the bathroom, and I was so angry at her I just wanted her to leave.  But she just stood there, watching my mother washing all the blood off my body.  I don't remember her being sorry.  I don't remember her saying anything at all.  She just watched.  Granted, my memory could be wrong, but this stood out, just like the time she decided to poop in my front yard (so gross-kids are ick).  She also used to get the other kids to throw rocks at me when she was mad at me, or stick sticks into the spokes of my bike wheels when I would be riding home away from them in tears because they were being mean to me.  Tricia was my bully.  And my best friend.  

I also remember her and the boy I liked (who happened to be her boyfriend) being overly sexual with one another.  Which led to her being overly sexual with me, which led me to being overly sexual with other children we hung out with.  I didn't know it was wrong.  I don't know who started it, whether it was her or the boy I liked, but either way, one of them had to have been molested or shown something they shouldn't have seen, on a regular basis.  Which then led both of them to being overly sexual when we were all together.  

This affected my life greatly, as a kid.  Nobody ever asked me where I learned that stuff or why I did and said the things I did, I just got into trouble.  A lot.  And today?  Not a single kid from my childhood has sought me out as an adult.  And I really wonder why.  I can only assume it's because they thought I was a total weirdo as a kid and did weirdo things.  Granted, as I aged, those things got less and less, thank goodness, but what Tricia had taught me as a kid really affected my life back then.  And the lives of our friends.  

And I wanted to write to her about it.  But what on earth would I say?  "Hey I remember you were a total spoiled brat and taught me inappropriate things that messed up my life as a kid."  And if I am wrong about her, and she's not a narcissist, maybe, just maybe, we could get to the bottom of what was being taught to either her or I and we could finally put that chapter of our lives to rest.  But I don't think I am wrong about her.  So what will it do then?  Absolutely nothing.  Also, it may bring her to retaliate against me.  So, what's the point?  Thinking we'd figure things out is also a long shot, most likely her answer would be "I don't remember".  Or she'd blame me, even though she was older than me and I know I learned all about certain things from her.  

Instead, I think I want to put her chapter to rest.  I need to let her go.  I need to expunge her from my past and my soul.  I need to allow all the horrible things she did to me, and that she got others to do to me, to not be erased, but to be forgiven.  I could say she was just a child, but I was also just a child.  And I didn't deserve the things she did to me.  And I didn't do those things to her.  I did not bully her.  I did not hurt her in any way.  I looked up to her and thought she was my best friend.  But she used that against me and because of that, I followed a cycle of letting horrible people do horrible things to me from then on.  She was my first real friend in life.  And she showed me what friendship was.  And from then on, I either had friends who abused me, or I became a friend to those who I saw as weaker then me and bossed them around, the way she did me.  I didn't abuse them, but I did hurt them.  I never learned to do better until I was in my 30's.  

I think I now know what to write to her.  I was confused before.  I didn't know what I would say.  But just like my old neighbor Ray, who was a priest and touched me inappropriately under the Christmas table at his sister's house in 2016 or so, and the man I used to babysit for over 30 years ago, I wrote them a letter, said what they did, and let it go.  I now have to write to Tricia.  And I will let her go.  

There are other people I could write to.  But I tend to either run into them, or they can find me online or may know where I live.  So, I will leave them all alone until my family moves.  This December, which is the month of letting go for me, as I sent my last two letters in December two years ago, will be about my first real friend, Tricia A.  The little girl with stark blonde hair who treated me like total trash as a kid.  I need to find a way to forgive her and move on.  Sending her a letter would be good, but I need to be careful, as her old BFF, a mutual friend of ours growing up, knows how to find me.  But I can just block her if I have to.  Tricia is a narcissist.  That much I remember.  But her old BFF is not, but she is a flying monkey of hers.  So that's similar.  I just hope I don't run into her anywhere.  But if I do, I will say "Listen, what happened between me and Tricia as kids is between us, you weren't there, you don't know.  This is none of your business."  And I will walk away (or block her on social media).  

Thinking about sending her a letter hurts my stomach.  But I know I need to do it, though I also don't want to be on this woman's radar, which I haven't been for most of my life.  But I can send a letter that's short and to the point, and not signed, but she will know exactly who it is.  

Okay, I think I will work on my letter today.  I will say sending a letter to my hubby's boss who had a crush on him and then insulted me at his going away party for work was the right thing to do, but what I wrote was NOT the right thing to write, as it didn't convey exactly how I felt.  It was too nice.  So I need to remember that this time.  Not to be mean, but to convey exactly what I want to say, but at the same time imagine her reading it and laughing at me, so I have to be careful not to completely humiliate myself.  Also, I don't know what she's capable of as a narcissistic adult, so I also need to be careful.  

Okay, off to go plan my letter.  

So, this holiday season, I have a black eye and my bladder/urethra hurt like hell.  Why?  Because I had "urodynamic testing" done and while the doctor and the website all said "Oh, it doesn't hurt at all!!", let me tell you, they are freaking liars.  I think I have IC (and they think that, too) and FUCKING HELL do not get this done if you have IC.  HOLY BANANA BALLS just don't do it!  The pain is EXCRUCIATING and I did drop a few F-Bombs during the procedure, loudly. and screamed a LOT.  They had to try it THREE times with three different catheters because it hurt so bad.  And then I came home, and oh god, the pain I felt peeing was like nothing I've ever had before.  It's better now, thank goodness.  But I did take some Tylenol, so I think that may have helped (usually it doesn't).  

And I got the back eye because I wouldn't shut up when they were doing the procedure.  LOL j/k  No, I actually gave it to myself.  I went to pick up some plastic shelves and the dumb fucks didn't have them taken apart for me and I had to do it and my hand got loose and I jammed one of the risers right into my eye (which blinded me for a moment). AND it broke my glasses.  Those fuckers should have given me my money back and given me their crappy shelves for free LOL  Who makes the person paying take them apart?  Sigh.  Now my face is all swollen and I have a black eye.  And it hurts.  A lot.  

Well, that's how you know it's Thanksgiving time.  Never a dull moment around here.  Sigh.  LOL  

My mom has this cat who used to attack my dog.  Like, this crazy ass cat would charge my dog and chase him in the yard and hurt him and cut him open.  And then, one day, my dog started fighting back.  And now my mom's cat has been attacked by something outside of our house (like a year ago) and he hasn't left my mother's room since.  This experience changed that cat and now he's a sweetheart who doesn't go after anyone anymore (he used to bully the other cats, too).  But my dog?  Still hates him to the point of wanting to hurt him every time he sees him.  That makes it dangerous for the cat to leave my mother's room when the dog is roaming the house.

It's been over a year now and the cat is getting restless and wants to leave my mother's room.  And he does, in the middle of the night and early mornings, when our dog is sleeping, which is okay.  But now he's been wanting to go out of her room during the daytime, too.  And today?  I heard the cat by our door, crying to go back in her room and she was ignoring him.  So, I went out there, freaked out because he was out of her room in the middle of the day, and opened her door to let him in.  I thought maybe she was outside smoking and forgot he was out of her room.  Which still isn't okay, but it's worse that he was crying and she was hearing him and ignoring him, knowing damn well he's in danger if my dog were to leave my room.

"Ma, what the hell?  Why is he out here?  You know he's not allowed out here."

"I know."

"So, WHY ON EARTH DID YOU LET HIM OUT?  The dog will hurt him!"

"You hear that, cat?  You're not allowed out there," she says in a silly sing song voice as she pets him, making a joke out of the whole thing.  

"MOM!!!  You KNOW he's not allowed out there!  Do you even care about his well-being???"  

"Oh he will be fine.  He has been before."  She says nonchalantly, while ignoring me and playing her video game.

She's basically smirking the entire time, as though it's a game and she has zero respect for me.  

It's not like I am making arbitrary rules here, the rule is in place to keep her cat safe from my dog (even though it's the cat's fault--we have 7 other cats that my dog loves).  

Now I am making her dinner, and she comes out (for what reason, I do not know, since she's only down to four cigarettes, I don't get how she still has any left) and starts babbling to one of my cats, like she always does, just to annoy me.  I said "Please be quiet, you are being noisy.  And the cat is deaf, yet I am not."  She said "Well, I am deaf and dumb".  And I almost said "Yeah, I know".  But I didn't.  She does this daily to me, and rather than apologize to me for her shitty little meltdown the other day, she has to annoy me, because it's fun for her.

The issue here is if she's not going to take this seriously, the cat is finding a new home.  He's a goooood cat (now) and I need to keep him safe from her stupidity.  She always puts her possessions (whether they be animals or people) in danger.  Always.  She gets to a point where she stops caring and just does whatever she likes.  And supposedly this is her favorite cat...well, if she cares that much about her favorite cat, she will be down one less cat.  If that happens, I will find him a new home and I won't even tell my kids.  That way nobody can tell her anything or feel like they are having to lie to her, I will just say he must have gotten outside.  That way they won't have to lie to her.  If I told her the truth, I honestly fear what she would do to my pets.  She has ZERO conscience, esp. when she thinks she's been wronged (and if I take her cat away from her, she will feel VERY wronged).  Once, she tried to put her best friend in prison because her BFF forgot she was going out to dinner with her (the friend ended up going out with someone else that night). So, my mom called the police and reported her for selling drugs.  I mean...that was her best friend who she liked more than me.  I can't imagine what would happen to me, or my family, if I had to find her cat a new home.  When she was angry at me before, she called and turned off my LINK card (foodstamps) so I couldn't have access to my benefits.  So yeah, I fear her retaliation.  I do have my cleaner cabinet locked up, but she has access to medicines and other things.  

Yes, I sound paranoid, but I have every right to be.  As she's an unpredictable crazy person who is capable of most anything.  And she could hurt my cats or my dogs (or us!).  So let's hope she just keeps the cat in her room until I can get a catio for them to use out her window (which is coming this spring).  

Sigh. 

 I came across this video that EXACTLY explains what I am going through.  

This is EXACTLY what my problem with therapy is.  And I don't know how to fix it.  Well, I sort of do.  I personally feel that you get better quality care and work from a life coach than a therapist (depending on the life coach).  So, I may head in that direction next.  

She blames it on quitting smoking.  But I have a completely different theory.  And if you've been here for a few years, you'd know exactly what's up.  

Thanksgiving is coming, and Ol' Smokey can't pass up an opportunity to go crazy.  

She missed last year, so this seems like a build up, since she's extra cranky.  Two years ago at Thanksgiving time she slammed a door into my back and went insane (I should have called the cops, I don't know why I didn't).  And now she's going bashit because I haven't turned on her access to her MyChart (they require you to get a code to your email every few months, which is SOOOOOOOOO annoying).  Every time she asks me to do it, I am in the middle of either cooking or doing something else.  And she's not been asking me, she's been demanding me to do it.  

She comes into the room the other, after asking me a few times beforehand and says "Okay, I set it all up and it's ready, go sign me in."  

I was in the middle of stirring a pot of food.  "Ma, I am cooking dinner."  

"Yeah, so?  You can pause that and come back."  

I laughed and ignored her.  I don't do well with silly demands (and all of her demands in my entire life have been silly AF).  And on Saturday, she demanded I do it SIX times.  SIX.  

I was in the car and she called me on the on the phone to come do it.  And she was pissed.  "Are you coming in here to set up this or not???!!"  

"I am not at home."  

"Well, are you going to get me bread then?"  

"Are you out of bread?"  

"Well, yes!"  

"How would I know that?"  

"I don't know, I thought you took the bread and put it somewhere I can't find it."  

"I don't eat your bread, ma, why would I do that?"  

"Just get me bread."  

That's what I've been dealing with.  I would blame the dementia, but this is how she is.  Come holiday time and she turns into a raging bitch and she's mean to me.  

So I go home and she corners me, yet again and boy was she in a ripe mood.  

"Why haven't you done this yet??!!"  

"Ma, every time you ask me, I am in the middle of doing something else.  Why is this so important?  It's not like you have an appointment coming up or like the information is going anywhere.  It will be exactly the same when you get on as it would be today.  It doesn't matter."  

"I've asked you lots of times!!"  

"I know you have, and I've been busy".  

"*scoffs*  Well, I will just call and have it done myself tomorrow".

"You know you can't do that.  And even if you did do it, you will still have to ask me to do it for you when this happens, because you'll have no idea how to do it yourself."

"I'VE DONE IT BEFORE BY  MYSELF!!!" 

"Yes, and you also used to be able to watch TV by yourself, too, but you don't remember how to do that anymore, do you now?  Do not threaten me.  Just be patient and stop asking me a billion times to do something for you."    

"Well, you need to do it!!"  

"Geezus, just stop.  I will get it done as soon as I can."  

Up until now, I am annoyed, not angry.  But then she hits me with this fucking bullshit that I will say next, and that's how I know she's being a narcissist, not a dementia patient, because this is her thing she does to you to discredit you in an argument.  

"God, why are you so crabby?"  

Sigh.  That statement right there, I just wanted to scream.  I had forgotten how much she used to say that to you when you'd argue with her.  Then she'd lower her voice to make you supposedly look like the person's who's emotions are out of control, even though she was always the one who both hyped you up to be angry in the first place, but at the same time would be just screaming at you herself.  So I responded:

"*laughs*  I am not crabby at at all, you are annoying me because you keep asking me for something silly, even though it doesn't matter.  It's not any different from the last time you looked at it.  YOU are the crabby one.  YOU are the one who's been crabbing at me for over a week over various things.  So what's YOUR problem?"  

"I can't smoke!  That's what!!  I need my cigarettes!!"  

She's still smoking.  I only cut her down by one, from five to four, several days ago.  And she'd been at five for almost a month.  It's not like she was smoking an entire pack and I cut her down to four, which is how bad she was acting.  

"Well, you have emphysema.  So unless you want to be on oxygen, you need to quit.  I already told you this.  And you knew you'd be quitting."  Plus, she has to quit because eventually she'll be in a home and they don't allow smoking.  

"I am fine."  

"How are you fine?  You have decreased oxygen to your lungs.  How is that fine?"  

"Shay!! I've been smoking for forty years, I've been fine!"  

"No, actually, you're not, you got emphysema from it.  That's not fine."  

"The doctor said it's no big deal, he's not even worried about it!"  

"No, he didn't.  He said you need to quit smoking."  

"NO HE DID NOT!!"  

My husband then walks out of the bathroom and says "Smokey, I was there.  That is not what he said at all.  He said you need to quit smoking now so your emphysema doesn't get worse."  

"Whatever.  I just want my cigarettes!!!"  

Sigh.  At this point, it's just silly.  Granted, it's all been silly.  But now it's just going to be a rotation of her bitching that she has to quit smoking and me telling her why she has to.  And it won't quit until I walk away.  But then she decided to walk away.  

"Well, it's a good thing you're quitting, then you'll live longer that way."

"Well, I wont live too much longer like this if I have to feel this way!!" she yells from her bedroom.  

I hate when she threatens to die or say some kind of bullshit to try to make me feel bad.  It never works and I find it funny.  So I retorted back: 

"Don't make me any promises!"  

Then she says some sort of garbled response that I could not hear.

"You know I can't hear you, ma!  I have no idea what you're saying." 

My husband filled me in later.  She said "If I died tomorrow, you'd all dance on my grave."  

Geezus.  All over cigarettes.  Really?  Really? Of course, really.  She's a narcissist.  And she's not getting what she wants so she acts like a four-year-old drama queen.  

So, my husband came to me and said "You know why she's so adamant about this, right?"  

I replied "Yeah, this is weird, even for her, I don't get why she needs to get on that MyChart so badly, it's strange.  It's like she has something up her sleeve."  

He grinned.  "Exactly.  She wants to see the notes from the pulmonologist so if he said anything like what she just said in there, the idea that it's 'no big deal', then she can use that information to supposedly keep smoking."  

I was floored.  Duh.  Of course that's what she was doing.  She never asks me for anything unless she has a motive.  So, today is Monday, I am going to call the doctor's office and see what they say, so I can use that against her silly argument before I turn on her MyChart access again, which I will do during her dinner today (as that's the only time that she's out of her room long enough so she doesn't bother me while I set it up).  But reality, I don't even need to call, I just to repeat what the doctor actually said:

"Right now, you are okay, but if you don't quit now, it will get worse.  So, if you quit now, it won't get worse."  She's trying to manipulate that into "You are okay right now" and that's it.  Yeah, it's not so bad now, but it's going to GET WORSE, but she doesn't care about that.  All she cares about RIGHT NOW.  Which is why she's not allowed to spend money.  Because when we moved in here four years ago, she'd spend ALL her money and give me nothing for repairs and sometimes not even for the mortgage.  She never thought about her bills.  Or savings.  The ONLY reason they had savings?  Was because my dad was in charge of that.  Not Mrs. Moneyfingers over here.  Spending all their cash on everything they wanted and needed in the moment.  Never once thinking about the future or even the next day.  One time she opened a savings account for my son when he was a baby.  And she spent it all within a few months.  She has a shopping addiction, but not only that, she has NO idea what it's like to live without.  

After my dad died, she lived for TEN years without saving a penny.  She couldn't spend it fast enough.  She put at least a hundred thousand in investments and lost it all.  She never fixed anything at the house, even though it would have been cheap to fix.  She just shopped.  And she went on a cruise.  And she shopped.  And shopped.  And shopped.  Every single day for ten years straight.  She lost all the money (which had to be around a million) and didn't give me a penny, even though I had two kids and was struggling and poor as fuck.  She shopped so much, she still got pink bills in the mail because wasn't paying them and never once had car insurance on the car.  She just lived in the moment.  When all of that was gone, she collected social security on my dad and started a job.  The first job she's had since I was a little kid.  She lost all her jobs due to not being able to get along with her managers.  And so she remarried and he died, and she got all of his money, which was more than my dad's.  She even STOLE money from his children, who were literal children (same ages as my kids), just so she could live her "lavish" lifestyle (which meant just buying random shit whenever she wanted).  The VA caught her and punished, but of course I had to be the one to take care of it (I was sooooooooooo hoping they'd put her in jail, but alas, they did not) and this past year she finally had to stop paying them back, after paying back around $50,000 she stole.  Oh yeah, she also stole $34,000 from me, too (she used that money to get out of debt, which is weird, I don't get why she didn't just keep it and use that to buy whatever she liked, too).  She conned me into signing documents that I didn't know I was signing myself out of $34,000 until it was too late (and I was so codependent with her at the time, I just promptly made myself forget about it).  

So to make a long story short, she's an insane person who only cares about the given moment, and so why did I expect her to go quietly into the night?  Nope, dis bitch is raging.  Apparently she's read Dylan Thomas has lived her life by his poetry.  She certainly does think of herself as a rebel, as a fighter, as a badass.  This is her ultimate modus operandi.  Ol' Smokey, always a badass.  

I will read that poem at her funeral, Dylan Thomas's "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night".  At my father's I read Christina Rossetti's poem "Remember", which was extremely traumatic for me.  But this poem seems to fit her much better.  Because until the day she dies, she will be raging against anything that she can't choose for herself.  Makes me wonder if she has autistic PDA.  But since she has NPD, maybe it warps it to be just resisting authority?  Or maybe she's just a selfish asshole.  Whatever it is, my mother will rage against it.  And 99% of the time she directs that rage on me.  Always has.  Always will.  

Why did I ever think this would go differently? 

(SIDENOTE: For those of you who think I should just let her smoke, know that her smoking is an issue at our house, as she will smoke by open windows and come in and REEK like a half-smoked smashed up cigarette and then go wander around, stinking up the house...also, she needs to quit so she can go into a home and not give them hell about it.  I have my reasons for wanting her to quit, many reasons.  One being her health, though I know she's in charge of her own health, so that's just one minor reason.  I have hundreds more.)  

I really have no idea what's going on anymore.  All these therapists who are under-trained and totally useless.  This current one?  Just stares at me until I speak.  WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???!! LOL  She's a nice enough person, but she literally does NOTHING.  I mean it.  Absolutely nothing.  I CAN DO THAT FOR FREE!!  hahahah If I wanted to talk to a plant?  I would get a fucking plant.  And it would cost one price, one time, and that's it.  For real, I am going to get myself a plant and call it my therapist.  And start posting pics of me having a session with it and saying "Some new insights with my new therapist" as the caption.  Because that's about as useful as a real therapist these days.  Perhaps even more so, actually, as this one gave me HORRIBLE RSD issues the first day we met.  I cried over it and I don't cry.  

So yeah, I am done.  No more.  Therapy today is CRAP and OVERPRICED AS FUCK!  When they literally do NOTHING at all.  It's a scam, ladies and gents.  That is, until you find that diamond in the rough.  That amazing one who actually helps you.  Everyone else is just stupid rock.  

So, my therapist's name will be Dr. Green.  And he will be amazing.  The end.  

Actually, going to start with a life coach instead, when I can afford it.  They are actually more helpful LOL 

So most days she's not chatty.  Hell, some days she's silent.  But sometimes she gets a hair up her ass and decides to run her mouth and annoy me.  

No, I am not referring to her just talking to me normally, I am referring to her actually running her mouth.  Like, nonstop.  And that's the type of mood she's been in lately.  We take her to go her blood taken (to recheck for anemia, and I am glad it came back normal) and I was also getting my blood taken and I was trying to talk to my husband about something and she she kept interjecting her thoughts on what I was saying.  Even though she had no idea what I was talking about.  Then she did it all the way home and when we got home she kept bothering me nonstop and yesterday (the day after) she kept bothering me, too.  Telling me about things that really were not anything anyone would care about.  I was washing dishes and she gets out her brand new jeans I just bought her and said "Can you touch this?"  I reply "No, I am washing dishes.  Why, what's wrong with them?"  She replies "Are they the same jeans you always buy?"  "Yes."  "Oh, because these are thinner."  Sigh.  Glad to see 'ol mom is back, the complainer.  I said "What does it matter?"  She says "Oh it doesn't!  I was just thinking you may have been spending extra money on them when they aren't as good at the other jeans!"  I rolled my eyes.  "Do they cover your legs?  Yes?  Then that's all that matters.  Thank you, but I need to get back to washing dishes now."  

Sigh. 

This is her MO.  This is what she does.  She get's one iota of herself back and she's back right to being a jerk about the things I do for her.  She has to bitch about everything.

The other day I took her to get her haircut and she leaves the salon and says "Okay, where else will you take me now?" I said "I have a shit ton of things to do, so we need to go home.  I have appointments and errands to run."  She stomps her feet and puts on a pouty face and says "Boy, I never get to do nothing!"  I said "YOU ARE WELCOME.  I just took you to get your haircut, and that's not good enough for you.  Okay then."  She still complains about anything to do for her.  So, when I do nothing, it's the only time I get the bliss of her being a good person to me.  When I give her things, she complains.  So, why do I even try?  

Living with an aging narcissist is like living with a perpetual four-year-old brat.  Not just a regular four-year-old, but a bratty one.  A complainer about everything.  A whiney little baby.  Granted, her whining is way less often, but it's still there.  Reminding me of years of torment.  

But I take in stride now.  I don't obsess about it.  I just laugh that she's still in there, bitching and complaining on the inside.  

I will say that from now I on I need to say "We are getting your haircut today and that's it.  Please don't ask to go elsewhere."  Or "I am taking you to go buy books, but we are ONLY buying books today.  Please don't fill up your cart with $100 worth of crap.  Today it's just about books.  And if you need new shirts."  Or whatever.  I need to be upfront and warn her first and maybe that will help.  She will complain beforehand and I can say "Well, if you're going to complain, we don't need to go.  Be grateful you get to go pick out your own books, etc.".  She will change her tune real quick.  Or I can say "We are going to the store to buy books today, and only books.  And if you complain about that, we won't go at all."  I won't even give her the chance to complain then.  I like that idea.  

She's been bugging my kids, too, with her mouth diarrhea (um, putting it that way sounds so much worse LMAO).  I am hoping she settles down again soon.  Mental illness is like this.  I am not sure if this is her version of manic (as she's always had these episodes) or what, but it's always something we, as a family, need to get through.  It's not fun, and sometimes she will do crazy things during these episodes.  She used to go on shopping sprees during these times, too, but thankfully, she has no access to money anymore (something she recently "demanded" again, when my husband talked to her doctor about her quitting smoking).  I buy her everything she needs and I take her to specific stores where she can do less damage (like resale shops).  Otherwise she'll try to buy $100 worth of candy. 

Well, I hope today she's better.  But if not, we'll just bear through it and put up with her silliness, as usual.  

(I asked for a line art picture not a sexy weirdo only wearing a sweater LOL)

Well, where to start....where to start?  

Hmmm, okay, new therapist.  I've seen her twice.  The first session I felt HORRIBLE afterwards.  But the second wasn't so bad.  But she literally sat there and stared at me for almost 60 seconds straight without saying a word to me when we first started our session.  It was....odd.  I like talky talky people, but ones who are there for the therapy and not to only talk about themselves.  

Then....then then then, we have the art therapy class.  Something I was UBER excited to go to.  And wow, was that a disappointment.  If I could upload my shitty art, I would.  But I am thoroughly embarrassed by it.  Not just because of my art (which was really bad) but the way it makes me feel when I look at it.  

First, the "art therapist" said "I prefer if you are a bad artist, it makes it better."  But THEN proceeds to go along and pick the best artists to brag on their pictures and say how great they are.  And the rest of us, she said nothing.  

Then, she said "You don't have to show your art or talk if you don't want to."  But then proceeds to make us all talk and tell everyone our pronouns (which made me angry, I think we should only have to share pronouns if they are different from the norm), and then proceeds to go around and hold up all our art without asking if we're okay with it.  I felt sooooooooooooooo fucking stupid, as my art was HORRIBLE (for so many reasons). 

Okay, so tell me how is this art therapy: draw a scribble on the page with your non-dominant hand (which looked no different than a scribble with my dominant hand) and then pass it to your left, and then take the other person's scribble and make something out of it.  And when we were done, we just left.  That's it.  Um, how is that art therapy?  Also, she said "I am trying to figure out what I'll have you do next week".  So....let me get this straight, there's no set curriculum?  What?  How is this art "therapy"???  It felt like an art class for small children with busywork art.  I have led more meaningful art therapy classes with various groups myself, and I don't have a degree.  Wtf?  

Sigh.  I am not going back.  What a waste of time.  Plus, my anxiety was so out of control after the class, too, and lasted until late into the night (like dissociative anxiety).  Like so much worse than before I left to go there.  I HATE HATE HATE showing my art to anyone, ever, and being forced to was NOT fun.  I am going to relay all of this to my therapist at our next appointment.   I hope she listens to me (though I don't have high hopes for that, as so many of them don't, but we'll see).  

What else?  I knew I had other things to record here, but I can't remember off the top of my head what they were.  

Oh yeah, Halloween was super dumb.  WINDY AS FUCK.  And it ruined it.  PLUS we ran out of candy, so we had to turn away children.  That was horrid.  I knew from the get-go it was going to suck, but I tried really hard to make it work, and then mother nature came and fucked it all up.  Well, at least there wasn't a tornado, so that's nice.  Though, I will say, it was still slightly cool.  We still did the projector and it was cool.  Well, my mother tried to steal candy and I told her no, nobody gets any candy until the kids are done trick-or-treating and she was upset.  She honestly thought that I should put HER wants above the neighborhood kids because she deserved candy more than they did.  Sigh.  I had to lay the law down as I said no, but she took some anyways (we do full-sized candy bars and she took TWO!) and so I had to tell her to put them back.  I said if we had leftovers we'll all get some (minus me, I can't eat it).  But we didn't have leftovers and she kept bitching about it.  So I kept saying "Well, all the kids we had to turn away didn't get any either, so...." and she would reply "But I didn't get ANY, and they got candy from other houses!"  I wanted to say, what are you five???  Stop acting like a kid.  

Anyways.  We got our garage cleaned out so my son can weld, hopefully without setting anything on fire.  Once he can do that, he can finish working on the car.  The weather is nicer now and he won't be baking in the garage in his welding helmet anymore.  I am excited to get this done.  Once that's done, we can have our garage sale AND switch bedrooms.  I am excited for both. 

Speaking of switching rooms, I am still anxious about having people walk through my room to get outside (my mother or having her BFF come over), but I will deal with it.  It will be better than what we have going on now.  

Oh yes, also, my in-laws (both narcissists) are causing HUGE issues with my husband.  They called him for a ride to the ER (even though we're no contact with them and told them not to call us for help) because his dad could not pee and was bleeding from his surgery.  My husband told them to call 911.  So, his mother just held the phone away from her face and said to her husband "We need to call my brother" and proceeded to hang up on my husband.  

What.  In.  The.  Ever.  Loving.  Fucktarded.  Asshole.  Shit.  Is.  That???

So, my husband got PISSED and called them right back, but they refused to answer.  Then, a few days later, his sister called and told him to come do their laundry.  Granted, they are all blocked from calling but they left messages.  And here's the thing: they never call, like for a whole year, unless they want him to do something.  And he says no, and they get angry and berate him or hang up on him (back in the day he would do shit for them, but they would ask for more and more and MORE until he couldn't do it and then they'd get angry with him and use that as an excuse to not talk to him).  So, he blocked them.  But because call blocking from your phone still allows text messages and voicemails to get through, he was thinking about changing his phone number.  He's still thinking about that.  

Well, we went to an author fair and to the local author's group and I have to say, those were the highlight of my October.  They were both fun and filled with great people.  So that's nice.  

And the weather.  OMG the weather has been amazing and the colors have been gorgeous, even with the nasty-ass wind.  

Well, it's NaNoWriMo and it's already the 2nd and I need to start working on my book.  I started it during NaNoWriMo many years ago and this year I would LOVE to finish it during November.  So, I better get working on it.  

Okay, off to go write before I play some Minecraft with my kids and hubby.  

Until next time.  

So, today was her doc appointment, and she 100% has emphysema.  

And now, she said to my husband "Well, if she's going to make me quit smoking, I want $50 a month to compensate for me having to quit, so I can spend it on whatever I like!"  

Sigh.  So.....I'm doubling the money I spend (I spend less than $24 a month on her cigarettes) as a bribe?? LOL  How about staying off of oxygen as a prize?  How about being able to breathe better as a prize?  How about not stinking like nasty cigarettes as a prize?  LOL  It's like, I am not paying you to be healthier.  I am not paying you to stop stinking up my house (she smokes outside, but comes in and wanders around and stinks the up the house like cigarettes).  I am not paying you so I can have my windows open, FINALLY!  Yeah, no.  

But see, she knows I am going to say no.  She knows this.  She just wants to make me look like a jerk.  So, if she asks me, I will just smile and say "Well, we'll see."  and leave it at that.  

She has dementia (in case you didn't know).  Which is why I can't let her buy stuff on her own.  She gets to purchase whatever she likes, as long as it's not crazy, already.  I just have to buy it for her.  Otherwise she buys candy (she's diabetic) or buys some random weird shit online (like strange medication, etc.).  So yeah. it's not happening, but she has to try to fight me on things still. Even though she's given up fighting me on everything else.  

Why are they like this?  I mean, I know why, but why does NPD exist?  LOL  I really wish there was a cure.   

So my mother creates lots of lists.  She loves to make them.  And she leaves them out for me to see, or sometimes she hides them if she doesn't want me to know about them.  Recently she put Walgreens on her list.  If you're new here, then I will tell you, my mother is not allowed to go to Walgreens.  That store is her weakness.  She will beg for candy and buy $100 worth of random-ass items, which we cannot afford right now.  Though she's not allowed to eat candy, period.  She's diabetic and her blood sugar isn't under control very well (I am trying to get the docs to up her Metformin), but even if it was, all that sugary shit is why she's diabetic in the first place.  

Anyways, she thought she was going to be slick.  She thought she'd talk me into taking her there to get her flu and covid shots.  She asked, I said "You always go to the doctor to get your shots.  We never go there."  She replies "I prefer it there."  I said "You've never gotten one there, so how do you know?"  She says "Well, going to the doctor means I have to see the doctor."  And I said "No, you just see the nurse."  She said "But then you have to make an appointment and have to wait, blah blah blah.  At Walgreens, we can just go there."  I said "What's the difference to you?  You don't have to make the appointment.  Both ways you just walk in, get the shots, and leave.  So, what does it matter?"  She replies "I prefer it there."  Sigh.  So I said "You never used to get your flu shot, like at all. I had to force you to, mom.  So you've never once had it there.  I am not sure what's going on here."

She kept rambling some nonsensical stuff and then went to her room and said "Well, whichever you choose, both work!  I just want to get it done before it gets too late!" and shut her door.  

Here's the thing: I had NO idea what her plan was at that moment.  I literally was just thinking about getting shots.  My husband reminded me "Shay, your mom loves to spend tons of money at Walgreens, remember?  She's just trying to con you into going."  Then it all finally made sense.  

Of course she was.  

Duh.  

Because this all made zero sense to me, as she's never gotten shots there before (she's only ever gotten her covid shot from a doctor and I am pretty sure the same can be said about the flu shots I forced her to get).  So I just could not figure out why she was so adamant about going to Walgreens for this.  BUT, I will say, something did ding in my mind to tell me something was off.  Something told me "Do not agree to let her go!"  At the time, I didn't realize why my brain was telling me this, but deep down, I knew something was up.  And sure enough, I bet if I go look at her browser history, I will see her looking at Halloween candy at Walgreens LOL (and I checked, she did! haha!).  

Anyways, she has an appointment for bloodwork, so I am going to see if they can get her in for her vaccines, too, at the same time.  

Goes to show, even though your parent has been docile for a long time due to their failing memory and health, a narcissist will always take any opportunity to manipulate things to get their way.  Even though I prefer this stage of her life so far ;)  For now.  

She's down to 6 now.  Recently I had let her choose to lower the amount of cigarettes she's been smoking, but a month went by and she had done nothing.  So, I said to her "Nope, now it's MY turn, and I will keep lowering your cigarettes until there's zero."  See, she's been diagnosed with emphysema (a week from tomorrow is her recheck) and I told her, "You're going to end up on oxygen".  Well, she doesn't want that, but she's not made a single choice to quit.  We started at 10 (from 20 over a year ago) and now we're down to six.  

So, other day she says to me "I smoke only half cigarettes now.  But I can't make any more half cigarettes, so you better not lower them again."  I pulled a "mom" on her and made her stupid noise she loves to make at people when she thinks they're being stupid. It's like a "ha" sound, but louder.  Like a weird giggle.  And I said "Of course I will.  I will be cutting them down until you get to zero."  She said "You can't do that!"  I replied "Oh yes, I can and I will be doing that.  I already told you."  She says "I will do it myself.  I will cut myself down."  Methinks she forgot that she already tried that shit on me.  I laughed and said "No you won't.  I already let you do that.  And you didn't do anything at all.  I gave you an entire MONTH and you did nothing".  She said "Well, I was going to." I put down the plate I was washing and looked her straight in the face and said "No you were not.  You literally told me you weren't even going to try.  That you weren't going to worry about it right now.  So do not lie to me like that.  I know how much you love to lie to me."  

She said "What?"  So I said it louder for the people in the back "I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU LIKE TO LIE TO ME, MOM.  DO YOU NEED TO ME TO SAY IT LOUDER?"  She just shut the door (she was going to smoke).  She wasn't angry, as she doesn't get angry anymore.  She just knew she was beat and couldn't argue her "point" anymore.  So, we are down to six cigarettes.  I've bought her last bag of tobacco and I will be making the ENTIRE bag at once, so I can ration them out to get her to zero.  We are done with this.  I am done with this.  And now she will be a former smoker until she dies.  I can FINALLY have my windows open in the kitchen, for once.  Sigh.  I am very, very happy about this.  

Next week she needs a new ID to go to the appointment.  So, she will be getting her haircut and I will be getting her a new birth certificate so she can get her ID.  BUT in order to do that, I need to have her valid ID.  SIGH.  Why???  Ugh.  I am going to do a deep dive search for her license, but I don't think it's here.  Not sure where it went, but it's been missing for over a year.  So, I am not sure what to do.  

Anyways, I will contact them to see how this is going to work.  I will go there and ask questions first, and then I will come back with her and have everything ready.  But I need to get it all done ASAP so we can go to her appointment.  

But that's it for now.  It's Minecraft time with my family so I have to go.  

So I did it.  I got the nerve to ask for a new therapist.  And I got one.  And, well....

Yeah.  We'll see how this goes.  I am going to give her a chance.  But I get diarrhea of the mouth when I feel awkward or nervous and today I ran my mouth like crazy, while she sat there and watched.  

Here's the thing: she doesn't use facial expressions.  So I had no idea what she was feeling or thinking the whole time, which made me nervous as fuck.  So I ran my mouth.  She also kept watching my hands, because when I get this way, I talk with my hands.  And she kept making me feel like I was doing something wrong by staring at my hands while I spoke.  So I kept putting them in my lap.  

I don't know.  The last one talked too much about herself, this one doesn't really talk at all.  

Sigh.  

Why does this have to be so hard?  I am trying very hard not to obsess over this, but I am.  Ugh.  

I am just going to show up and see what happens.  

Also, she said she wants me to tell her when she's doing something I don't like and wanted to know if the other one I switched from told me to do the same thing.  I said no, she was too busy talking about herself LOL  But then she went on to say how much people don't like constructive criticism, so I got mixed signals there.  So, does she want me to tell her, even though she won't like it?  I found that weird.  

Anyways, she's not mean or anything.  So that's nice.  She's just VERY hard to read, which makes me nervous.  

And she kept looking at her watch.  

So the mixture of her looking at her watch a few times (she should have had a clock in the room), not really speaking to me, no emotions on her face at all, her staring at my hands when I spoke (not the whole time, but every time I did it her eyes would drift to my hands, which caused me to shove them in my lap), and her being more than a bit awkward with me, well it made me horribly self-conscious and now I can't stop thinking she found me annoying.  I mean, I get it.  I am annoying.  I guess. I've been told that my whole life.  But I don't like being reminded of it.  Esp. not by someone who's supposed to help me. 

Granted, she did seem super awkward when we started, so maybe she's just nervous?  That very well could be.  Though, I tend to think she found me tedious because at the end I said "I need to apologize, I have ADHD and sometimes I run my mouth."  And she didn't even respond or say I was fine or that it wasn't a big deal. Instead, she just made me a new appointment.  Which felt so freaking horrible in the moment.  I mean, all of this could be her own issues and may have had nothing to do with me, but still, how can she help me feel better if I feel worse when I leave her office?

I don't know.  I just need to go do something else for a bit and not think about it, because my RSD is kicking in and I feel pretty low right now.  I will go back, if I feel this bad every time I leave her office, I don't think it would be good for my mental health to keep seeing her (which may or may not be any fault of her own).  And if that's the case, I will just be done.  I guess I am not meant for therapy.  

I have never had a therapist make me cry before.  Or had one that made me feel so self-conscious.  I guess there is a first for everything.  

I sure wish more people like me were therapists.  Ones with empathy.  Ones with real tools.  Ones with an open heart and mind and soul.  Friendly ones.  Friendly and effective.  I am too friendly and too ADHD to be an effective therapist myself.  This I know.  But I sure wish more had personalities like mine.  

Sigh.  

I really hate change.  I really hate this uncomfortable annoying space we find ourselves when we lose something we're used to, like a doctor or a therapist or whatever.  You finally find one you can tolerate and bam, they are gone, and now you're in limbo, trying out all the other ones until you find the right one.  I will say I finally found the right OBGYN, so that makes me happy <3  I just hope she stays.  

Okay, I need go through my library books now so I can bring them back.  

My son let it spill to my mother that he and his brother and I went to eat for my youngest son's birthday.  Which I hate him sharing ANY info about our lives with her, as she will take it and whine that she wans't invited, etc. blah blah blah.  But he added "Oh and mom didn't eat anything and had to sit and watch us eat."  

Oh I was livid.  I turned to him and whispered "SHUTUP!"  He felt so horrible, but I wasn't angry with him, I just felt humiliated.  

See, my mom has abused me for my entire life because I don't like to eat in public.  I have severe panic attacks about it and always have.  YET she will drag me to restaurants in order to abuse me about it.  She will humiliate me and pick on me and make fun of me.  And that's the only reason she ever wanted me to go with her.  She could have taken my kids alone out to eat, but no, she always put me on the spot and forced me to go.  And I always went.  I shouldn't have, but I did.  

"But you shouldn't put yourself in a position to be abused!"  No, she shouldn't have abused me.  And tell that a severely anxious person who has agoraphobia who can't be home alone.  And tell that to a codependent person who used to think she couldn't live without her mother (funny, I don't even remember what the felt like).  I had my reasons why I always went with.  I sometimes felt fine and could eat.  And I never knew how I'd feel until I got there.  

But that's not why I didn't eat this time.  I didn't eat because I couldn't.  I can't eat normal food.  Ever since my sickness almost a year ago I can't a large amount of different food and/or spices.  I can't eat fruit at all (other than blueberries).  I can't eat acidic, spicy, or tangy foods.  I can't eat tomatoes, peppers, onions, garlic.  I can finally eat celery again.  Something happened to my stomach when I got bacterial food poisoning and covid together.  My stomach, my mouth, my throat, my tongue, my bladder, and urethra.  They are all severely irritated and can't handle many foods.  So, we went to a ramen place and I just had white rice.  It was okay.  I could barely eat that due to my anxiety, but I couldn't even order anything to take home.  I feel bad, my son's birthday and I had to sit and watch them eat (well, we all were chatting, so it was okay).  

And then my son just let it all spill out of his mouth to my mother.  I don't get why we do that (I mean, it's ADHD).  I do the same thing sometimes, but I've learned with my mom to keep my mouth shut.  So, now, I have to say "We don't tell grandma about what we did today!"  And they both agree "I know, Mom!"  That way it helps to keep him from accidently not thinking and just saying stuff to her.  

My mom is NOT my safe person.  She's not anyone's safe person.  She's conniving and abusive.  My son is at the point in life where he sometimes forgets this. I used to be at that point, too.  But it took me a few years to finally get to a safe space with her, where I say nothing at all about anything in my life.  He will get there one day, too, but by then, her memory will be shot, so it won't matter. 

Growing up, I had a complicated relationship with food.  I loved sweets.  Too much.  And my mom would regularly make these weird-ass (but tasty) chocolate chip cookies constantly.  And I would gorge myself on them.  And she would shame me for it.  I also liked to stir my ice cream to make soft serve, and she would tell me how gross it was.  She also made tons of food I hated.  On purpose knowing I hated it.  Like steak.  She made that every single Saturday.  She never made me anything else to eat instead.  She knew I despised steak.  And how she made it.  I hated roast.  Which is what we had every Sunday.  Friday was fish, something I also didn't really like.  She would make Hamburger Helper at least once a week.  Also, she made "braised beef" which was literally just ground hamburger (with a side of mashed potatoes and corn).  Mashed potatoes were ALWAYS out of the box.  And corn was always canned (yuck!).  She sometimes made hamburgers and once in a great while she made tacos, which were my favorite.  OMFG the tuna casserole....talk about barf in a casserole dish!  Her hamburgers were always HUGE in the middle and skinny on the sides.  They tasted like shit (she would put onion soup mix in them).  Her cooking was the quintessential 1950's TV dinner on a plate style of meals.  Boring.  Bland.  Gross.  Oh and Encor meals!  Those were a once a week thing.  Veal Parmigiana, canned potatoes and canned asparagus.  Veal.  Which was nasty.  Eventually they switched to chicken and that was better.  

I ate the same things, every single week, for years and years and years on end.  Hardly anything made from scratch.  Most things were out of a box or a can.  It was like eating your food rations rather than home cooked meals.  I, myself, didn't learn how to actually cook until I was almost 30 and I became vegetarian.  Which pissed off my mom.  

Growing up, I was told "Eat it or starve."  So I chose starving most days.  I went to school so hungry that I was on the verge of puking every single day before lunch (because I had the late lunch).  I got a PB&J for lunch every single day.  Which only spiked my blood sugar and sent me crashing when school let out.  My snacks were all sugar based.  I was actually hungry, but she fed me more sugar.  Then dinner came and it was nasty old food again, which I hardly ate.  So, I became extremely addicted to carbs and sugar growing up, and it fucked with my blood sugar.  And at age 18, I started passing out.

I also started a cycle of not eating when I turned 15, because all that sugar caught up with me (and my weight) and my mom started shaming because we had to buy me size 12 clothing in middle school and supposedly that was a big deal (we had to shop in the PLUS section! OMG!).  My mom is fat.  Remember that. 

So, I never really ate my dinners, unless she actually gave me something I liked.  And so I filled up constantly on junk all day.  And by the time breakfast came around, I felt so horribly sick from not eating the night before and then I'd be super fucked up until lunch.  Sometimes I had good lunches, but they were rare.  Like after Thanksgiving I would get turkey sandwiches.  Those would sustain me.  But other than that, I just got sugar laden crap.  

Have you heard of second breakfasts amongst the hobbits?  Well my mother had second dinners.  Every single night at midnight she would get out of bed and an entire second dinner.  Corn on the cob.  More chicken.  More potatoes. Or whatever we had that night.  I, on other hand, would only join her when it was corn on the cob, but anything I never wanted.  I was hungry (though she would feed me ice cream before bed almost every night...like HEAPING bowls for the both of us), but I didn't want more of food I didn't like at dinner time.  I wasn't allowed to eat cereal or and a sandwich or anything.  It was dinner or nothing. One time, she actually served me my dinner the next day for breakfast, a la Mommie Dearest style (he favorite movie).  

When she got custody of her stepdaughters after their father died (the kids were the same ages as my kids), those two girls were and thin as rails.  But literally only after a few months with my mother (like six) both girls became hefty.  Like, the one girl had never been anything but skinny in her life.  How did she do it?  She was like that old witch in Stephen King's "Thinner" except her magical power was grazing your face the the back of her nasty fingers while saying "fatter".  And just like that BOOM, you're fat.  She did it to me and now to two other girls.  So, obviously it wasn't us.  The only common denominator here was her and her carb/sugar loading diets she feeds to children.  

The kids were lucky to go back with their mother (though, so was my family) and now neither one of them is chubby (not like being chubby is wrong, it just shows that wasn't their body types).  

My mother is the voodoo priestess of sugar and fatness.  And apparently, my blood sugar issues.  

Not only that, growing up, I used to have to sit at the dinner table while my parents smacked each other.  It used to make my stomach turn, which why eating usually makes me want to vomit, esp. in public.  They would drag me to a dimly lit restaurant (which used to fuck with my eyes, I hated it so much) and would be drunk off their asses and make me watch them eat (because I refused to eat, because I never knew what they were going to do next).  So they are to blame for this issue I have with eating in public.  And yet, my mother would harass me, shame me, humiliate me, and pick on me for it every single time.  

And this is why I don't let my mother anywhere near me when it comes to food.

Before we moved in here, I was better.  I could eat in burger joints.  I could sometimes eat in restaurants.  I was getting over some of my issues with food.  BUT THEN we moved in here and it ALL came rushing back.  Why?  Because of her.  She somehow thought this was my childhood home and she was going to call all the shots and she was going use her time at the dinner table to drive me back to every single eating disorder and food issue I had thought I was over.  I got to the point that dinner time was sooooooo anxiety inducing, I had stopped eating.  Again.  

So, I made a decision: I was going to eat in my room.  But she made a HUGE deal about that and got my family to shame for me it.  Not that they knew what they were doing.  No, they were like "Why are you being like this??  Grandma is making it hell for all of us!"  And my food issues got even worse.  But I held my ground.  I refused to eat with her.  

Then, my prayers were answered: her doc wanted to do surgery on her foot and I forced them to put her into rehab.  And for four months, I created a life where her life and our lives were separate.  She now had to eat alone.  And all of her cat paraphrenia was in her room.  All of her decor was in her room.  I replaced her curtains and the shower curtain with my own.  I removed her from my life, because I was going to end up in the looney bin if I didn't.  

She did not like it, and she pushed back, but no longer did I have to eat at table with her.  Hell, I didn't have to eat at a table at all (it gives me PTSD).  I no longer had to put up with anyone remarking on why I was eating what I was eating or when I was eating it or why I wasn't eating a certain thing or "what is wrong with my cooking?" if I didn't clean my plate.  All of that stress was gone.  

And it has been for three years.  But I still can't eat in restaurants anymore.  Even if I could eat what's on their menu, I still want to barf when the food is placed in front of me.  Even when it's just a plate of steamed white rice (which was the only thing on the menu I knew I could eat).  And that she stole from me.  I was doing better.  I was healing.  And she stopped that from happening and sent me backwards.  I will work on it again, but not until my mouth and stomach are healed.  For now, I will just have to live with it.  

So, that's why I was upset that he told her.  I wasn't angry, I just was freaking out.  She didn't say anything though.  But you know she was thinking it.  

Anyways, I hope I am better one day so I can take my kids out for a family dinner with all four of us and I will be able to eat again.  Even if it's just at a our local burger joint (though, I may try that soon).  

God.  I can't wait until she's in a home and I can work on my own BS again without the anxiety of her mucking it all up.  One day.  

My new therapist and I have finished my intake interview.  Finally.  After THREE sessions.  Ugh.  And now my first actual appointment is with her.  And I am scared to ask for a new therapist.  Even though I know for 100% fact I don't want to see her again.  There is a little voice inside of me that says "But what if you're wrong?  What if you're being rash?  What if you're being too picky?  What if you're just an idiot and she's actually really nice?"  I know none of these things are true.  I know this.  I am a good judge of character and every single person I give the benefit of the doubt, I am always right about.  Every single person I say "what if?" to, I always end up realizing that I was right to begin with.  So, why do I not just trust that?  Why do I second-guess myself?  

Because everyone second guesses me.  Everyone tells me I am too rash in my judgement of others.  But don't they see I am normally right?  Don't they end up always telling me "Boy, I should have listened to you, you were right!"?  Yes.  They do.  So, why do I let them get into my head?  And why am I listening to that little voice inside my own head?  Because I don't want to be an asshole.  Today, she wasn't so bad.  I mean, she was, but I kept quiet more.  When I did talk, she'd interrupt me, AND then talk over me so much I can't interrupt her back so I can finish my thought and then sometimes she'll change the subject before I can speak again.  Sigh.  So, I didn't say much.  

When I am allowed to speak, she almost never responds to what I say, and instead relates something back to herself instead.  So again, it's like I am in a one-sided conversation with myself.  And I do not like the way it makes me feel.  And in the beginning, when I told her the certain things I do not like that therapists do, she said "Well, be prepared, I do those things."  And I am thinking like "WELL DON'T!!"  Like for one, she never writes down what your homework is.  And I am thinking "Well, then I will never do it, because you won't freaking remember what it is.  I could just lie about it."  LOL  

And today, she asked "What do you think will hamper your therapy  with us?"  Meaning, what I could do, as a client, to block my own therapy.  I wanted to say "You."  Or "A bad therapist."  But I didn't.  I just said "I can't think of anything."  She gave me the vibe that she didn't believe me.  And she puts a LOT of words into my mouth and does it regularly.  I wanted my response to that to be:

HAHAHAHAHA NOPE!  

I was 100% right about her and now I am annoyed I have to see her one more time to do the rest of my assessment.  Sigh.  Oh well, after that I will ask for a new one.  I've seen her twice now (assessment only, no therapy) and dis bitch interrupts me and talks about herself or her kid or whoever, and instead of letting me finish, she just finishes what she has to say and then changes the subject!  I CANNOT STAND THAT SHIT!  I would really hate it if she were my friend, but my therapist?  HA!  The whole point is me to be there to express myself and instead she's stopping me and relating something to herself or her family.  She does it with EVERYTHING and has the fucking NERVE to bash other therapists who do the same thing LMAO  Sigh.  What is wrong with people?  Ugh.  

Well, one more time and then I'll be requesting a new one.  

Ugh.  I should be given a choice, rather than being assigned to someone.  How freaking annoying.  I hope the next one is nice.  Sigh.  

I have to remember she's not the same person she was a year ago.  I just don't want to be surprised if she were to do something inappropriate, know what I mean?  I get that she's not the same person anymore, but that doesn't mean she won't revert back at any given moment.  

Okay, so what's going on here is that my son wants his own bedroom.  And my bedroom is smaller than the living room, where he has his bedroom right now.  He doesn't need the entire living room as his room, but my husband and I do.  My son wants privacy, and my bedroom has tons of that.  And everything about this exchange of room is 100% win-win, minus the fact that you have to walk through the living to get out the front door.  And my mom will abuse the shit out of that the minute she knows we're changing rooms.  She's not allowed in my room, she's not allowed to open my door and I've worked on that with her until she finally understood.  I worked hard on that.  And now, it will all just be thrown out the window the minute she knows she can walk through to get out front.  

My son's room used to be in the basement, but it flooded and ruined all his stuff, so he moved upstairs to the living room.  Now, the living room has a lock on it.  So that's something.  But during the day I can't lock my door all day long.  

I did come up with a partial solution: they make ceiling curtain runners that you can shape however you like on your ceiling and you get floor to ceiling curtains and bam!  Wall divider!  

BUT I will lock my door when I am sleeping and when we leave the house.  Because we need to build this boundary in our house that says that the living room is no longer the living room, it's our bedroom and we need to treat it as so.  And the front door?  Is the door that's in our room to leave the house.  If people need to leave the house out the front when we're gone?  They need to use the garage door.  It won't be easy getting it through people's heads, but that's going to be the way it has to be.  The front room is OUR room and is NOT the throughway to the front.  The kids can use it, but my mother cannot.  She's not allowed in our room and that's not going to change just because we move rooms.  

I have a system in my mind setup for how we'll take her garbage for her (her own kitchen bin) and we'll be changing the kitchen around as well.  So that way she can't just bust into our room for taking out garbage.  

Because I am telling you right now, I am NOT starting over again.  She's NOT coming into the room or opening our door, ever.  Unless she's leaving the house with us, and our curtain will be pulled.  

This feels like we'll be starting over again.  But I think we have enough boundaries set into place to keep her at bay.  At least I hope so.