Hellalong.
Just for Em. ;)
...really. It has NOTHING to do with needing to occupy my time.
I very much enjoy Toni Braxton's new CD. I always forget how much I like her... which is a lot.
Well, I got contacts yesterday... getting them in this morning was... uh, interesting and irritating. It was better-esque than getting them in for the eye lady... but was somehow more effort. Now that I'm talking about them they're beginning to irritate me. Heh. Que ever.
Yesterday wasn't very good. I mean, not ALL of it was bad... but whatever. It went like this.
Left work early (which was amazing.... I'd had an awesome day @ work, met this new resident who was stunningly intelligent and incidentally was related to my 8th grade Math teacher...), went to the bar (to get pity money from my Dad... yes, to the BAR), left for my eye appointment. After my check-up was finished, I'd been fitted with the lenses, etc... I went out and the receptionist informed me that my "mother" has requested for me to join her for dinner and that she was waiting for me in the food court.
UGH.
If I am EVER going to talk to you (which looks even farther away now)... it's going to be because I WANT to. *I* want to. So I ask how much I owe... and she tells me that my "mother" covered it. So I go into the food court... (my Lenscrafters is in a mall, ps)... and I don't see her.
Which isn't a bad thing, obviously.
Then, out of NOWHERE... she walks up behind me and starts giving me this hug. I swear to God that I wanted to puke. She's all, "oh, thank you... I love you so much, Ryan..." and all this crap. So after forcing the vomit back down my throat, I got her off of me and began round 393658.
She's sorry for what she's done to me.
But she didn't do it.
She DOES accept responsibility for her actions.
What are they? Calling me a fucking fag, multiple times, adjective and all? Putting glass under my tires? Screaming at me in the middle of parking lots? Throwing my clothes in the parking lot? Threatening to kill herself a million times? Tell me what a shame I am on the "family" that I've never really had? Insulting me in every way possible? Dozens of hate messages? Calling me a failure? Telling me I'm going to die of AIDS? Going through my things? Flipping me off as she drives by? Tailgating me? Not giving me pictures of me and Nathan because I "don't need pictures of a man"? Cornering and harassing MY FRIENDS at grocery stories, their homes and FUNERALS? Blaming her failed marriage on me? Blaming JB's drinking on me? Telling me she WOULD NOT help me with school when the only thing I need is a damn S.S. # so they can be DENIED for a loan so that I can get another?
She's sorry for what she's done -- until I tell her what she's done and she tells me she DIDN'T DO IT. So what the hell are you sorry for? Good Lord. You can't accept responsibility for your actions if you can honestly look at me and tell me that you haven't done them.
The woman never grew up... and too many drugs from 1970 on have had an effect... and yes, she has an estrogen imbalance. Fine. I get that. But unlike my step-father, unlike half of my family, I'm not going to take it laying down. You're ALLOWED to be upset that I'm gay. FINE. So it wasn't a part of YOUR plan. But no, it isn't a choice. People don't choose things like this. So be upset.
But don't tell me that "that's what we called gay people in the 70s." I was your son. And it's 2005.
Don't tell me I'm a failure -- the ONLY kid out of EVERY SINGLE KID I grew up with to not be dead, pregnant, on drugs, alcohol, etc and to be putting himself through college, paying for an apartment, paying for a car... etc.
You can't treat me like I'm not human.
So she wasn't getting what she wanted in the middle of the mall. She wanted to buy me dinner -- but even if I'd had an appetite after all of that I wouldn't have let her. "You won't even break bread with your mother???" Give me a break.
Well, she's "so different" -- which is why I should talk to her... because "what about forgiveness??" -- "so different" that as soon as she isn't getting the response she wants she freaks out as she always does.
Overall, I kept my cool. I told her I wasn't going to lower myself to her level. Thanks for paying for the check-up but I don't want her money. I don't want her cards. I don't want her comments from JB. I don't want her e-mails, her phone calls. I don't want anything from her. I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of hearing that I hate her. I wasn't going to hug her so she could "feel better if I died." I wasn't going to play her little games. She "wants to help me" -- so I told her if she really wants to help me she'll leave me the hell alone.
So she got pissed. Threatened to tell my father that I'm gay. AGAIN. I told her he was a better father than she was a mother... which, if you know my father, is quite a powerful statement. Then I had to hear about how he sent her up there (which I found out later was a lie)... how he's a horrible father... how he'd stop paying for my insurance if he knew... how he brags about helping me all the time, blahblahblah.
So I just turned around and started walking away. I told her I wasn't going to do this anymore because I'm above it.
So as I was WALKING DOWN THE MALL... she starts SCREAMING. AGAIN. ALWAYS. "There goes your insurance!!" "We'll see how much your father cares about you!!" etc. I tried not to listen. P.S. -- yes, the woman is one of "those people" that you see at the mall making a fool out of themselves.
I went to American Eagle and bought a pair of jeans and a polo after trying not to break down and cry. I had to do something... I don't know. So after trying to find Jenni, talking to Timmy about Korie's wedding (weird but it'll be nice) on Friday and grabbing some Chik-Fil-A I headed out to my car.
Guess who was waiting outside, complete with step-father.
"Ryan, stop... let's talk..."
Choke.
I just kept walking... went to my car, got in, JB came up... he apologized a lot, told me he tried to stop her. He sounded like Sebastian pleading to King Triton about Ariel. Humans..? Who said anything about humans...?
At one point she had told me that she wanted to pick up the pieces -- and I told her that she'd already shattered the pieces. JB said much of the same thing... he told me that he wanted to stop her but she wouldn't be stopped. He told me that he tells her she's digging herself deeper and deeper. And I told him it couldn't possibly GET deeper. He told me to call him sometime. I probably will.
I don't know that I hate her as much as I do pity her. I don't know. Hate is such a weighted word... but the bitterness, disgust, whatever I have towards her... the connotation that hate often carries is pretty borderline to it all.
She literally makes me ill.
I told her I didn't have a mother. She may biologically be linked to me -- but no, I do not have a mother. Unless you've been through something like this, it's probably hard to fathom. So humor me in the fact that I don't want to hear "she'll come around" or "but she's your mother." Uh, no. Come around to WHAT? Not being a psychotic bitch? This isn't just about her homophobia -- which is now gone if it suits her needs. It's about the fact that she's insane, won't seek help, won't leave me alone, won't stop using any means she possibly can to get under my skin or get at me... it's about the fact that it is NOT okay for someone to be treated sub-human. And "mother" -- well, that's earned. The same as anything else -- father, cousin, best friend, whatever. These titles are earned... or they're just names.
Disgusting.
So, I had no intention of turning this isn't what it's become... but uh, I suppose that's what journals are for. Even in a public forum. And it feels good to finally write it all down.
All of that right there was pretty much my summer. Heh. Other than all of the other horrible things that happened.
But there were also amazing things. Many of them.
All in all, I'm very happy in my life. I have many amazing relationships, I love my job, I'm happy at my school. I have a lot of people who love me and I have a lot of people I love... and at the end of the day, I know who I am, have a general idea of where I want to go, and I'm comfortable with that. Things aren't going to be easy all the time.
Duh.
So whatever. The real point is that I'll be 21 in less than two months. Heh.
<3.