Is It Just Me?
I believe I've already mentioned my living situation on here. I live in my late grandmother's house, which, when she died, was left to my mother. The house is a ramshackle mess, as my grandmother did not allow any repairs to be made to it for decades, repairs it desperately needed. In addition to my mother letting herself in without ever calling first (thus I have been caught in the shower, awakened, interrupted while on the phone, interrupted while doing school work, you name it), workmen now have keys and let themselves in all the time, a situation my mother sees no problem with, as everything of value that isn't mine was removed my my brother and sister-in-law days after my grandmother's funeral (including items my grandmother wanted me to have).
My mother let herself and a workman in yesterday while I was deeply engrossed with a huge art project and demanded that I drop what I was working on to hear the latest plans my mother has for the house (another fact I've touched on here is that my mom has decided to try to sell the dump as quickly as she can, despite the fact that, um, I'm living here and not due to graduate until at least December (maybe March if my thesis proposal is loathed at my upcoming 45 hour review in May, which, if I don't get a pass, will mean I have to have it again in the fall, and can't work on my thesis until January, meaning I'd graduate in APRIL ( whole year from now, ARGH))). Sunday and Monday are both high-stress days for me, a fact that is not unknown to my mother, who seems to delight in lumping as many things To Do on those days as she can. Not only do I do a radio show until 2AM in the morning (sometimes later / earlier), but I also have classes all day Monday and am worn out.
This Monday, she has arranged for a refrigerator to be delivered, when I would normally be trying to get three hours of sleep. The workman and I both noted that this was bad timing, and if Goodwill picks up the old fridge before the new one arrives, $300+ worth of food will go bad. If Goodwill doesn't pick up the old one before Tuesday, the appraiser has been scheduled to come by Tuesday. I also need to remove all the magnets and baby pix from the fridge, of course.
Frustrated with the massive amount of crap To Do dumped on AGAIN at the last minute, I suggested that IF mother wanted me to help her, including me in these plans beforehand (if they will require me to be home or do Irritating Projects) would be appreciated, and that Mondays and Wednesdays (and Sundays) absolutely SUCK for me, as I barely have time to pee or eat all day, much less wait for lawn maintenance men, Goodwill, Lowe's and ten other "oh by the way" additions. If mother can't be bothered to call me first, fine, but how about scheduling this stuff for Tuesdays, or, better yet, Thursdays or Saturdays? Sure would appreciate that, said I. Meanwhile, the workman was nodding as I spoke, and he and I have compared notes on my crazy, demanding mother's tricks before. Clearly he got roped into doing last minute urgent tasks as well, all to beat the appraiser coming by on Tuesday (and this is the first either of us have been told it was Tuesday, mind).
So, having been given my list of annoying last-minute tasks, and having begged her to consider my schedule in the future if she wants my help or presence, I announced I had homework I was in the middle of, and needed to stop procrastinating with chit-chat and get back into it. The minute I got re-settled and "in the zone," my mother returned, and decided to tell me I had "embarrassed her" by reminding her of my schedule, which hasn't changed overmuch in three years, and that I "embarrassed" the workman (not, he likes her but thinks she is crazy and super-cheap and hard-to-please and clueless about what potential home buyers actually WANT and deluded about the worth of her property in its current state). Since she was so "embarrassed," she started to pick a fight with me about stupid crap, and I lost my temper and told her that when people want other people to help them, it is common courtesy to warn them first so they can let you know if it is convenient or possible. Me telling her my schedule for the umpteenth time, and suggesting that not trying to do fifteen major last-minute projects that SHE isn't going to do, that OTHER people must bust a hump to do FOR her, is not "embarrassing," it is, if anything, remarkably helpful, given the amount of inconvenience I get subjected to all the fucking time because my schedule isn't important to her, or considered when she makes plans FOR me.
I can't handle her assumptions! Worse, I had picked up on this bad habit of hers when I was an undergrad, and went through this plan-assuming-other-people-will-pitch-in-without-asking-first crap, followed by acute mortification when I realized I was aping my mother's worst habits, and groveling in apology for doing it, and being around her when she acts like this, with my chameleonic personality (I pick up on her constant worrying and guilt as well, which exacerbates my natural tendencies in those directions) is NOT good for me.
We fight the worst when I mirror her own bad habits and behaviors and tones of voice back at her, actually.
Anyway, she couldn't accept that she was wrong to dump a lot of crap on someone without asking first, so she professed "embarrassment," and when that failed to make me wrong, she nitpicked about stupid stuff I had no time to diddle around with, as the complaints were smokescreens for her anger over being told not to be rude.
I announced that I was not having any more circular discussions, as I was now further behind on my project than ever, and (I regret to say), I huffed off. I was boiling mad for a good ten minutes. Then I got reabsorbed in my work.
So Mother calls, to remind me of what we had already discussed and fought over. "I think I got it, thanks," I grouched. "Doing work. No time to go over this poop again. Leave me be."
So she's tried to "win" a fight over her not being courteous enough to check with other people first before dumping responsibilities on them THREE times. And failed. What will she do next? Have a health issue, of course. A couple of hours before I am due to drive downtown for my radio show, she calls to tell me she's having health issues, maddeningly vague ones that she won't share symptoms of, and needs me to sit by my phone all night "just in case."
So now I have gotten no sleep at all, worrying my brains out about my mom, and imagining all kinds of hideous "she dies in the night" scenarios, which is probably what she knew I'd do, because she has done this before, and knows I can't sleep if she needs me by the phone because I sleep like the dead and won't wake up if the phone rings. I've had no sleep, I have to juggle refrigerators and yard boys and workmen and classes and teaching assisting and homework, and I'm so tired already. I won't be able to go to bed until midnight as it is.
Now, do I call her and make sure she's still alive, wait for her to call (she might not), assume all is well and try to get some rest before the fun and games begin, or what?
I love my mom, but she is making me crazy. I am going to have to go on psych meds if this nonsense doesn't stop, already.
I hope she's okay. She always is, after one of these "stay by your phone all night" deals, but you never know when Fate will turn on you.
I hope that I pass my 45 Hour Review, guys, because I am past ready to get the hell out of this place and move into a place five + hours away with a sturdy deadbolt lock on the door and no constant emotional manipulation and family weirdnesses. Is that so wrong?
And to think, when my brother and sister-in-law asked me if mom was losing her mind this past Xmas, I said "no, she's always like that, you're just getting a taste of what I get to experience weekly." Is she "worse" than she has been in the past? Hellifino. Sigh.
My mother let herself and a workman in yesterday while I was deeply engrossed with a huge art project and demanded that I drop what I was working on to hear the latest plans my mother has for the house (another fact I've touched on here is that my mom has decided to try to sell the dump as quickly as she can, despite the fact that, um, I'm living here and not due to graduate until at least December (maybe March if my thesis proposal is loathed at my upcoming 45 hour review in May, which, if I don't get a pass, will mean I have to have it again in the fall, and can't work on my thesis until January, meaning I'd graduate in APRIL ( whole year from now, ARGH))). Sunday and Monday are both high-stress days for me, a fact that is not unknown to my mother, who seems to delight in lumping as many things To Do on those days as she can. Not only do I do a radio show until 2AM in the morning (sometimes later / earlier), but I also have classes all day Monday and am worn out.
This Monday, she has arranged for a refrigerator to be delivered, when I would normally be trying to get three hours of sleep. The workman and I both noted that this was bad timing, and if Goodwill picks up the old fridge before the new one arrives, $300+ worth of food will go bad. If Goodwill doesn't pick up the old one before Tuesday, the appraiser has been scheduled to come by Tuesday. I also need to remove all the magnets and baby pix from the fridge, of course.
Frustrated with the massive amount of crap To Do dumped on AGAIN at the last minute, I suggested that IF mother wanted me to help her, including me in these plans beforehand (if they will require me to be home or do Irritating Projects) would be appreciated, and that Mondays and Wednesdays (and Sundays) absolutely SUCK for me, as I barely have time to pee or eat all day, much less wait for lawn maintenance men, Goodwill, Lowe's and ten other "oh by the way" additions. If mother can't be bothered to call me first, fine, but how about scheduling this stuff for Tuesdays, or, better yet, Thursdays or Saturdays? Sure would appreciate that, said I. Meanwhile, the workman was nodding as I spoke, and he and I have compared notes on my crazy, demanding mother's tricks before. Clearly he got roped into doing last minute urgent tasks as well, all to beat the appraiser coming by on Tuesday (and this is the first either of us have been told it was Tuesday, mind).
So, having been given my list of annoying last-minute tasks, and having begged her to consider my schedule in the future if she wants my help or presence, I announced I had homework I was in the middle of, and needed to stop procrastinating with chit-chat and get back into it. The minute I got re-settled and "in the zone," my mother returned, and decided to tell me I had "embarrassed her" by reminding her of my schedule, which hasn't changed overmuch in three years, and that I "embarrassed" the workman (not, he likes her but thinks she is crazy and super-cheap and hard-to-please and clueless about what potential home buyers actually WANT and deluded about the worth of her property in its current state). Since she was so "embarrassed," she started to pick a fight with me about stupid crap, and I lost my temper and told her that when people want other people to help them, it is common courtesy to warn them first so they can let you know if it is convenient or possible. Me telling her my schedule for the umpteenth time, and suggesting that not trying to do fifteen major last-minute projects that SHE isn't going to do, that OTHER people must bust a hump to do FOR her, is not "embarrassing," it is, if anything, remarkably helpful, given the amount of inconvenience I get subjected to all the fucking time because my schedule isn't important to her, or considered when she makes plans FOR me.
I can't handle her assumptions! Worse, I had picked up on this bad habit of hers when I was an undergrad, and went through this plan-assuming-other-people-will-pitch-in-without-asking-first crap, followed by acute mortification when I realized I was aping my mother's worst habits, and groveling in apology for doing it, and being around her when she acts like this, with my chameleonic personality (I pick up on her constant worrying and guilt as well, which exacerbates my natural tendencies in those directions) is NOT good for me.
We fight the worst when I mirror her own bad habits and behaviors and tones of voice back at her, actually.
Anyway, she couldn't accept that she was wrong to dump a lot of crap on someone without asking first, so she professed "embarrassment," and when that failed to make me wrong, she nitpicked about stupid stuff I had no time to diddle around with, as the complaints were smokescreens for her anger over being told not to be rude.
I announced that I was not having any more circular discussions, as I was now further behind on my project than ever, and (I regret to say), I huffed off. I was boiling mad for a good ten minutes. Then I got reabsorbed in my work.
So Mother calls, to remind me of what we had already discussed and fought over. "I think I got it, thanks," I grouched. "Doing work. No time to go over this poop again. Leave me be."
So she's tried to "win" a fight over her not being courteous enough to check with other people first before dumping responsibilities on them THREE times. And failed. What will she do next? Have a health issue, of course. A couple of hours before I am due to drive downtown for my radio show, she calls to tell me she's having health issues, maddeningly vague ones that she won't share symptoms of, and needs me to sit by my phone all night "just in case."
So now I have gotten no sleep at all, worrying my brains out about my mom, and imagining all kinds of hideous "she dies in the night" scenarios, which is probably what she knew I'd do, because she has done this before, and knows I can't sleep if she needs me by the phone because I sleep like the dead and won't wake up if the phone rings. I've had no sleep, I have to juggle refrigerators and yard boys and workmen and classes and teaching assisting and homework, and I'm so tired already. I won't be able to go to bed until midnight as it is.
Now, do I call her and make sure she's still alive, wait for her to call (she might not), assume all is well and try to get some rest before the fun and games begin, or what?
I love my mom, but she is making me crazy. I am going to have to go on psych meds if this nonsense doesn't stop, already.
I hope she's okay. She always is, after one of these "stay by your phone all night" deals, but you never know when Fate will turn on you.
I hope that I pass my 45 Hour Review, guys, because I am past ready to get the hell out of this place and move into a place five + hours away with a sturdy deadbolt lock on the door and no constant emotional manipulation and family weirdnesses. Is that so wrong?
And to think, when my brother and sister-in-law asked me if mom was losing her mind this past Xmas, I said "no, she's always like that, you're just getting a taste of what I get to experience weekly." Is she "worse" than she has been in the past? Hellifino. Sigh.