Thing(s) that bother me
AKA, my mom is a bitch.
Okay, that sounds a bit harsh, but that's what I'm feeling right now, okay?
And there's nothing wrong with feeling that way.
They're just feelings, and there's nothing wrong with them.
(This is paraphrased from something, but I can't for the life of me figure out what. A little help, please?)
Anyway, I try to be cohesive and coherent and consilient and concise. (Oh, who am I kidding? I'm never concise.)
Behind
This is reasoned.
This is me calmer about this than I have been for a long while.
This is me remembering just how much the lives of others (aka, my mom and stepdad) no longer affect me.
To quote the great Lemony Snicket (from The Wide Window, and stolen shamelessly from this blog):
“There is a way of looking at life called ‘keeping things in perspective.’ This simply means ‘making yourself feel better by comparing the things that are happening to you right now against other things that have happened at a different time, or to different people.’ For instance, if you were upset about an ugly pimple on the end of your nose, you might try to feel better by keeping your pimple in perspective. You might compare your pimple situation to that of someone who was being eaten by a bear, and when you looked in the mirror at your ugly pimple, you would say to yourself, ‘Well, at least I’m not being eaten by a bear.’
You can see at once why keeping things in perspective rarely works very well, because it is hard to concentrate on somebody else being eaten by a bear when you are staring at your own ugly pimple.”
About a year ago, when I visited home (while I was still going to college), my mom had invited over my nephew (about 5 years old at the time) as well.
Now, I'm mature enough to know that it's not all about me.
Obviously!
But I was ignored so much during that time period (in favor of my nephew) that something broke inside me.
The last few support threads that connected me to my mom broke. I guess there was just too much weight.
There's no longer the depth of connection that we used to have. I'm mostly okay with this, but sometimes I still feel hurt.
In the past, when I have done something "wrong", it's on me to apologize (even if it's only half my fault). And I usually would.
But when it's not my fault, as it hasn't been for the past few times...I refuse to apologize.
And it blows over, eventually.
(I tactfully don't mention that she's doing to me what she complained so heartily about that my grandmother did to her: the silent treatment. It's awful, okay? And you're doing the same thing.)
This time, I overslept (yes I was up late) and my mom left without me, to do something we had planned to do together. She took my stepdad instead of me.
How late was I, I'm sure you're wondering.
Well, to avoid any more rhetorical questions: 15 minutes.
(Also, I was partially late because my brain was conjuring up dreams of being awake. How fucking unnerving is that? VERY, in case you were wondering.)
Yep, 15 minutes late and she leaves.
I am caught between a rock and a hard place.
Here are some bad things about my situation:
1. I don't make enough money to live on my own, but I can't handle most roommates
2. I don't have a car, and I don't live in a town where it's very easy to get around without one
3. My mom has 2 people that she plays against eachother: me, and my stepdad. When she's mad at him, I'm suddenly numero uno. When she's mad at me, I'm numero ultimo (last), and he becomes numero uno. I have...no-one. (Also, when she's mad at me, my stepdad becomes her 2IC and also gets mad at me, even (especially?) if has nothing to do with him.)
(I remember reading a teen's self help book a few years back and having a staring-at-the-wall moment a la Terry Pratchett when the book asked you to list 5 (or was it 10?) adults whom you trusted to talk to and get you out of a bad situation. ... I don't have anyone on that list. I trust a few friends, somewhat, but I don't really trust relatives. Or adults, really. Or anyone, really. I think people are too fallible, on the whole, and I've been let down too many times, to trust easily. Or at all, I guess.)
I don't know how I'm going to handle another year-and-a-half here.
"There was a little girl
With a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.
"And when she was good
She was very very good
But when she was bad she was horrid."
Okay, translation: when the situation is good, it's very very good, but when it's bad, it's horrid.
This has been a post.
Okay, that sounds a bit harsh, but that's what I'm feeling right now, okay?
And there's nothing wrong with feeling that way.
They're just feelings, and there's nothing wrong with them.
(This is paraphrased from something, but I can't for the life of me figure out what. A little help, please?)
Anyway, I try to be cohesive and coherent and consilient and concise. (Oh, who am I kidding? I'm never concise.)
Behind
This is reasoned.
This is me calmer about this than I have been for a long while.
This is me remembering just how much the lives of others (aka, my mom and stepdad) no longer affect me.
To quote the great Lemony Snicket (from The Wide Window, and stolen shamelessly from this blog):
“There is a way of looking at life called ‘keeping things in perspective.’ This simply means ‘making yourself feel better by comparing the things that are happening to you right now against other things that have happened at a different time, or to different people.’ For instance, if you were upset about an ugly pimple on the end of your nose, you might try to feel better by keeping your pimple in perspective. You might compare your pimple situation to that of someone who was being eaten by a bear, and when you looked in the mirror at your ugly pimple, you would say to yourself, ‘Well, at least I’m not being eaten by a bear.’
You can see at once why keeping things in perspective rarely works very well, because it is hard to concentrate on somebody else being eaten by a bear when you are staring at your own ugly pimple.”
About a year ago, when I visited home (while I was still going to college), my mom had invited over my nephew (about 5 years old at the time) as well.
Now, I'm mature enough to know that it's not all about me.
Obviously!
But I was ignored so much during that time period (in favor of my nephew) that something broke inside me.
The last few support threads that connected me to my mom broke. I guess there was just too much weight.
There's no longer the depth of connection that we used to have. I'm mostly okay with this, but sometimes I still feel hurt.
In the past, when I have done something "wrong", it's on me to apologize (even if it's only half my fault). And I usually would.
But when it's not my fault, as it hasn't been for the past few times...I refuse to apologize.
And it blows over, eventually.
(I tactfully don't mention that she's doing to me what she complained so heartily about that my grandmother did to her: the silent treatment. It's awful, okay? And you're doing the same thing.)
This time, I overslept (yes I was up late) and my mom left without me, to do something we had planned to do together. She took my stepdad instead of me.
How late was I, I'm sure you're wondering.
Well, to avoid any more rhetorical questions: 15 minutes.
(Also, I was partially late because my brain was conjuring up dreams of being awake. How fucking unnerving is that? VERY, in case you were wondering.)
Yep, 15 minutes late and she leaves.
I am caught between a rock and a hard place.
Here are some bad things about my situation:
1. I don't make enough money to live on my own, but I can't handle most roommates
2. I don't have a car, and I don't live in a town where it's very easy to get around without one
3. My mom has 2 people that she plays against eachother: me, and my stepdad. When she's mad at him, I'm suddenly numero uno. When she's mad at me, I'm numero ultimo (last), and he becomes numero uno. I have...no-one. (Also, when she's mad at me, my stepdad becomes her 2IC and also gets mad at me, even (especially?) if has nothing to do with him.)
(I remember reading a teen's self help book a few years back and having a staring-at-the-wall moment a la Terry Pratchett when the book asked you to list 5 (or was it 10?) adults whom you trusted to talk to and get you out of a bad situation. ... I don't have anyone on that list. I trust a few friends, somewhat, but I don't really trust relatives. Or adults, really. Or anyone, really. I think people are too fallible, on the whole, and I've been let down too many times, to trust easily. Or at all, I guess.)
I don't know how I'm going to handle another year-and-a-half here.
"There was a little girl
With a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.
"And when she was good
She was very very good
But when she was bad she was horrid."
Okay, translation: when the situation is good, it's very very good, but when it's bad, it's horrid.
This has been a post.