(no subject)
Apparently, my 8 to 9 or however fucking long it's been now weeks of confinement in the house without a single friend, or single thing to do during the day, automatically puts me into "maid" status in my mums eyes. Nevermind the fact that she won't let me go out and visit a friend for 3 or 4 days where the most strenuous activity Abbie had planned for me was a fucking trip to the theatre, apparently being at home, and taking out grabage, hoovering, folding laundry and putting it in drawers, loading and unloading the dishwasher, babysitting my brother both morning and evening while She fucking lives at work, preparing "dinner" over half the nights in the week, setting and unsetting the table night in night out, then making her her fucking cup of tea which she never fucking drinks anyway, apparently THOSE are the activities that are expected of me and my healing ankle while I spend day in day out alone, going out of my mind without a single friend to talk to, thinking and re-thinking thoughts that ought not to be though, feeling and re-feeling things that have been felt a million times before.
I say "epxected" of me, because I just got yelled at for not doing them all.
I don't manage to do laundry every day you see. Nor do I take out the trash. And hoovering is just too painful. So, naturally, my simple inability or SLIP of not being able to do these domestic activities around the house are a sign of my sheer laziness. Because apparently I ENJOY sitting around day in day out with absolutely nothing to do, and as far as I can see, no immediate reason to fucking exist.
Yeah, I sure do secretly enjoy it mum, it's a fucking FANTASTIC feeling- being the doormat to all your friends from home, waiting for them to return from uni just so they can pay you a fucking visit cause YOU oh Dictator of Them All, YOU won't fucking let me go out, cause it'll hinder the healing process of my ankle, because apparently I'm not to be trusted with my own body now that i've made a single mistake in my 19 years of fucking existence. And I fucking love the fact that the best part of my Uni experience- the final term of the first year, where everyone has fun, and gets closer, and reflects upon the entire year and seals those friendships that have been forming over the course of the entire year has been snatched away from me, because of this fucking foot and ankle, and because you never kept you fucking promise of taking just a day or two off work, taking me into uni and letting me sit around with my friends and just have some fucking company. No no no. Because, at the end of the day, YOUR the victim in all of this aren't you.
The poor mother who can't bear to see the pain that her beloved daughter is going through. The poor mother who works so hard to provide for both workplace and home. The poor mother who is attentive to her children's needs, and who comes home exhausted each and every night but still finds time to talk to her children, ask them how they are, reassure them about things, put her own work things to one side and just be a fucking mum to her kids.
She missed Devin's Sex Education meeting with parents today. I didn't even bother telling her because she'd go mental on me for mentioning it, because after, all SHE'S JUST ONE PERSON AND SHE'S TRYING TO MAKE A LIVING FOR US ALL.
Yeah, we need the money. But dad works too. Dad's job REQUIRES him to go away. He HAS to travel oversea's. But you know what? When he returns, he not only has to work overtime to hand in those fucking reports with a jetlagged body and mind, he finds time to talk to Devin, maybe even me, read Devin's homework, sort out legal documents around the house, and pay bills.
Oh but her, no no, she's much too busy for that. Leaves the house at half 7 every morning. Gets home at 8. After dinner (which she rarely ever actually cooks, but still manages to complain about, even if she has to be the one peeling back the film from the microwave meal) she's out. I make her tea. She takes a sip, tells devin to sit on the floor because she's so tired and wants to stretch out on the sofa. After I put Devin to bed and realise there's nothing worthwhile left on tv, I wake her up and she goes up to bed.
That's my mum for you.
I just feel SO terrible that I keep letting her down. I can't believe I never take out the trash. How could I. Just how fucking selfish am I,eh?
I mean, all this time, this entire 9 weeks of confinement, soltitude, and going out of my head with nothing to do, she's been a PILLAR OF STRENGTH and SUPPORT for me. Everyday she'd come home and ask me how I was, and try to engage me in conversation that wasn't about her fucking work. She'd ask me questions, and try to give me ideas to keep me occupied so that I wouldn't spend 3 hours a day crying out of frustration and for want of something to DO. She was so attentive and caring that she was able to see through my quietness and ups and downs that something was wrong. Yeah, she's a fucking legend that woman.
Yeah. Dream on ilayda.
Perhaps I'm being harsh. After all, she is just ONE PERSON trying to make a living for us. But I think that's the problem. She's concentrating on the ONE PERSON bit too much. Suddenly the living and us parts are gone. And if not gone, fading fast. The one person is living for her one person selfs immediate needs and worries. Nevermind the family. The crippled daughter at home will babysit her son for the entire summer, yeah.
Fuck you mum.
I say "epxected" of me, because I just got yelled at for not doing them all.
I don't manage to do laundry every day you see. Nor do I take out the trash. And hoovering is just too painful. So, naturally, my simple inability or SLIP of not being able to do these domestic activities around the house are a sign of my sheer laziness. Because apparently I ENJOY sitting around day in day out with absolutely nothing to do, and as far as I can see, no immediate reason to fucking exist.
Yeah, I sure do secretly enjoy it mum, it's a fucking FANTASTIC feeling- being the doormat to all your friends from home, waiting for them to return from uni just so they can pay you a fucking visit cause YOU oh Dictator of Them All, YOU won't fucking let me go out, cause it'll hinder the healing process of my ankle, because apparently I'm not to be trusted with my own body now that i've made a single mistake in my 19 years of fucking existence. And I fucking love the fact that the best part of my Uni experience- the final term of the first year, where everyone has fun, and gets closer, and reflects upon the entire year and seals those friendships that have been forming over the course of the entire year has been snatched away from me, because of this fucking foot and ankle, and because you never kept you fucking promise of taking just a day or two off work, taking me into uni and letting me sit around with my friends and just have some fucking company. No no no. Because, at the end of the day, YOUR the victim in all of this aren't you.
The poor mother who can't bear to see the pain that her beloved daughter is going through. The poor mother who works so hard to provide for both workplace and home. The poor mother who is attentive to her children's needs, and who comes home exhausted each and every night but still finds time to talk to her children, ask them how they are, reassure them about things, put her own work things to one side and just be a fucking mum to her kids.
She missed Devin's Sex Education meeting with parents today. I didn't even bother telling her because she'd go mental on me for mentioning it, because after, all SHE'S JUST ONE PERSON AND SHE'S TRYING TO MAKE A LIVING FOR US ALL.
Yeah, we need the money. But dad works too. Dad's job REQUIRES him to go away. He HAS to travel oversea's. But you know what? When he returns, he not only has to work overtime to hand in those fucking reports with a jetlagged body and mind, he finds time to talk to Devin, maybe even me, read Devin's homework, sort out legal documents around the house, and pay bills.
Oh but her, no no, she's much too busy for that. Leaves the house at half 7 every morning. Gets home at 8. After dinner (which she rarely ever actually cooks, but still manages to complain about, even if she has to be the one peeling back the film from the microwave meal) she's out. I make her tea. She takes a sip, tells devin to sit on the floor because she's so tired and wants to stretch out on the sofa. After I put Devin to bed and realise there's nothing worthwhile left on tv, I wake her up and she goes up to bed.
That's my mum for you.
I just feel SO terrible that I keep letting her down. I can't believe I never take out the trash. How could I. Just how fucking selfish am I,eh?
I mean, all this time, this entire 9 weeks of confinement, soltitude, and going out of my head with nothing to do, she's been a PILLAR OF STRENGTH and SUPPORT for me. Everyday she'd come home and ask me how I was, and try to engage me in conversation that wasn't about her fucking work. She'd ask me questions, and try to give me ideas to keep me occupied so that I wouldn't spend 3 hours a day crying out of frustration and for want of something to DO. She was so attentive and caring that she was able to see through my quietness and ups and downs that something was wrong. Yeah, she's a fucking legend that woman.
Yeah. Dream on ilayda.
Perhaps I'm being harsh. After all, she is just ONE PERSON trying to make a living for us. But I think that's the problem. She's concentrating on the ONE PERSON bit too much. Suddenly the living and us parts are gone. And if not gone, fading fast. The one person is living for her one person selfs immediate needs and worries. Nevermind the family. The crippled daughter at home will babysit her son for the entire summer, yeah.
Fuck you mum.