(no subject)
I've got a month before I move. I told my mother what my new address was going to be and she cried. And you know what? That's perfectly acceptable. I'm not sad yet. Because, well, I need to get the hell out of here. And I'm going to. So I'm not sad about that. She worries, and I understand that. It's her job as my mom to do that. But it isn't so much that she's worried - it's that she's going to be lonely.
She came down into my room at 11:30pm, sobbing and drunk. (Thanks, Alice, for giving her a bottle of wine you moron.) She sat in my pink chair and cried. Cried. And cried some more. What was she going to do with her life? She gave up her entire life for us kids and then we left her. How foul and horrible! She doesn't know what to do now with her life. Now that her children don't need her. She works 80 hours a week for what? Debt. I know it's daunting, but really. It's not that bad. She can make it. And she doesn't need to accuse me of hating her all the while.
She said she would stop drinking. She said that she wouldn't take it out on me. But it wasn't until 1:00am that she stopped taking it out on me. Yelling and screaming about nothing. She didn't touch me, but fuck. Another weekend of drinking mother. Fantastic. She rambled about how no one loved her, how she was ugly, how no one wanted to have sex with her, how her life had no meaning... shit like that. Shit that I shouldn't have to listen to. Isn't there a law against parents talking about sex with their kids unless it's done in an after school special way?
I'm not mad, surprisingly. Just annoyed.
Going out to dinner at the Outback tomorrow, I think. We'll see.
Exactly one month until I move.