Yesterday Sucked
I don’t like exposing my weaknesses or my wrongdoings. So, I won’t…exactly. I’ll tell the whole story, and even some back story when I remember. Let’s start (be forewarned, it’s long like the Mississippi River).
My godmom and I have a strange relationship. She was never actively godmomed, but everyone knows she is (ironically enough, so was my Aunt Helen, who really doesn’t try and help me very often). We’re both females with strong (read: bitchy) personalities, and we clash every once in awhile. Well, last night we were at dinner and I made the comment “Well, you’re overly possessive at times and get jealous of my friends.” Before you go, “Dude, rude much?” Let me say that we were talking about my life, and how fractured I feel from my various family trees (my dad’s family is about as distant as you can get, and my mom’s family has no idea what to do with me because I’m not like them) and I forget how it came up, but it was just an honestly commented statement, not an attack. (Oh, I remember now. It was because we were talking about, all things considered I'm a damn good kid and several people we know would be willing to trade for me.) My godmom thinks that any kind of non-praise is an attack. And I do mean anything, like I could tell her that the sky is blue, and she says it’s got shades of yellow it in. If I disagree, I’m attacking her. So please understand that she overreacts like this frequently. Anyway, back on topic. And she pouts, like really pouts like a toddler. I told her to stop when she started talking, saying that if she’s such a horrible person why do I live with her (paraphrased, but her basic statement). And then she asked for examples of pouting. “Last week.” That would be about the time she pouted over god knows what, but she did. For three days. Refused to talk to me, or look at me. Very ice-cold reception. The basic tricks she uses.
Well, I called her out on it last night. I told her to stop acting like the victim when no one had been called one. It was a just a statement. Her response: “Well, you’re acting like the victim.” “No, I’m not. I’m just saying something. No one’s fault.” To which she decided to try and martyr more, and I was so frustrated that I snapped at her to stop it. Manipulating was unnecessary since it was just a comment. Note that I say that…a lot, and not just in this fight. Then she’s goes all, “Well, you can’t even remember what I did that I was pouting over.” (This was after her two minute denial that she doesn't pout...while pouting.) “Probably because it happens at least twice a month, and that’s why.” That just got her angrier, which can’t blame her, but come on. She acts like this so often that sometimes I just don’t have time to deal with that shit. “Just stop it. Drop it!” was my last statement at dinner.
Anyway, so we leave, get in the car, and my mom’s bringing it back up. See, if it’s not resolved her way, it gets harped on until I can’t stand it anymore and I just agree to shut her up. Unfortunately my brain didn’t catch that clue. So we’re arguing, while I’m driving because that’s oh-so-safe, and I’m like, “They aren’t facts. Feelings are subjective, therefore they can’t be fact.” “Good, because you’re wrong.” Please, believe me when I say I wanted to bitch on that statement, because feelings….can’t be wrong. Not when you’re talking about them. So, I’m like, “I never said they were right. Because they’re subjective.” More harping. Don’t remember it all because it was the same rehashed shit, especially the horrible person spiel that makes me want to hit something. I have repeatedly said “I never said you were a bad person!” Enough times that I could pave the road with it.
Get home. I go in my room, she in hers. I’m talking to a friend, and lo and behold, guess who barges in? “Well, if I’m such a horrible person, then maybe you’d be happier at your mother or father’s.” Now, that was the last comment we had on the fight last night and today. The thing is that I will have to grovel; it’s just a matter of when. Why a nearly twenty-five year old has to grovel to her seventy-three year old godmom, I’ll never know. Actually I do know. See, her mom was very controlling. The point she went on dates with her daughter as she aged. No, really, she’d just say, “where are we going?” when she hadn’t been invited along. Three’s a crowd. Then you get her ex-husband who was a control freak like no other. Seriously, he sold her mother’s house without even telling them. He walked the fine line of legal because he was a lawyer. Very good at that, sucked at the whole personal asset. Then again, she sold him when he wanted a divorce. Got a damn good settlement. Beside the point though. And then you have her son who doesn’t talk to her all that often except through email; doesn’t update her on her grandkids, and both he and the wife say it’s not necessary for her to visit (they live in Virginia). Lot of bad blood there too.
Basically, she controls everything now, and if she can’t, it’s made damn sure that she can manipulate it later on to fit.
Now, as for my issues, well, I shouldn’t have said that. I know better than to be honest with her. Like really know better because all that happens is I get fucked over, repeatedly for quite a few days. I know to keep those barriers up. I love her to death, but dude, seriously, you can’t be honest. You must stroke the ego and make her feel all powerful.
Talked to my dad about it when I went to get some cash to help pay my medical bills, and he reiterated that. Mind, he made her my godmom and has known her since he was 18. He’s 52 now, so that’s a huge chunk of time. Anyway, so he said that he stopped being her close friend when she told him that “Jessie and I have decided that if we don’t like your girlfriend, we’ll break you up.” Which, yeah, I did, but anyone that’s heard my stepmonster stories knows that it was for both our sanity’s sake. I wonder if that was what drove him to keep the whore? Anyway, so that was about 13 or so year ago. It just is so weird that I have to control my feelings, and can’t even be honest with someone I love.
Gee, why do I have issues out the woohoo? I can’t figure out. Anyway, that was my day…and most of that fight was in 15 minutes. Now my arm hurts and I’ll finish this up for now. I have a lot more to add about other stuff later. Plus, I think that I am forgetting stuff about this.
My godmom and I have a strange relationship. She was never actively godmomed, but everyone knows she is (ironically enough, so was my Aunt Helen, who really doesn’t try and help me very often). We’re both females with strong (read: bitchy) personalities, and we clash every once in awhile. Well, last night we were at dinner and I made the comment “Well, you’re overly possessive at times and get jealous of my friends.” Before you go, “Dude, rude much?” Let me say that we were talking about my life, and how fractured I feel from my various family trees (my dad’s family is about as distant as you can get, and my mom’s family has no idea what to do with me because I’m not like them) and I forget how it came up, but it was just an honestly commented statement, not an attack. (Oh, I remember now. It was because we were talking about, all things considered I'm a damn good kid and several people we know would be willing to trade for me.) My godmom thinks that any kind of non-praise is an attack. And I do mean anything, like I could tell her that the sky is blue, and she says it’s got shades of yellow it in. If I disagree, I’m attacking her. So please understand that she overreacts like this frequently. Anyway, back on topic. And she pouts, like really pouts like a toddler. I told her to stop when she started talking, saying that if she’s such a horrible person why do I live with her (paraphrased, but her basic statement). And then she asked for examples of pouting. “Last week.” That would be about the time she pouted over god knows what, but she did. For three days. Refused to talk to me, or look at me. Very ice-cold reception. The basic tricks she uses.
Well, I called her out on it last night. I told her to stop acting like the victim when no one had been called one. It was a just a statement. Her response: “Well, you’re acting like the victim.” “No, I’m not. I’m just saying something. No one’s fault.” To which she decided to try and martyr more, and I was so frustrated that I snapped at her to stop it. Manipulating was unnecessary since it was just a comment. Note that I say that…a lot, and not just in this fight. Then she’s goes all, “Well, you can’t even remember what I did that I was pouting over.” (This was after her two minute denial that she doesn't pout...while pouting.) “Probably because it happens at least twice a month, and that’s why.” That just got her angrier, which can’t blame her, but come on. She acts like this so often that sometimes I just don’t have time to deal with that shit. “Just stop it. Drop it!” was my last statement at dinner.
Anyway, so we leave, get in the car, and my mom’s bringing it back up. See, if it’s not resolved her way, it gets harped on until I can’t stand it anymore and I just agree to shut her up. Unfortunately my brain didn’t catch that clue. So we’re arguing, while I’m driving because that’s oh-so-safe, and I’m like, “They aren’t facts. Feelings are subjective, therefore they can’t be fact.” “Good, because you’re wrong.” Please, believe me when I say I wanted to bitch on that statement, because feelings….can’t be wrong. Not when you’re talking about them. So, I’m like, “I never said they were right. Because they’re subjective.” More harping. Don’t remember it all because it was the same rehashed shit, especially the horrible person spiel that makes me want to hit something. I have repeatedly said “I never said you were a bad person!” Enough times that I could pave the road with it.
Get home. I go in my room, she in hers. I’m talking to a friend, and lo and behold, guess who barges in? “Well, if I’m such a horrible person, then maybe you’d be happier at your mother or father’s.” Now, that was the last comment we had on the fight last night and today. The thing is that I will have to grovel; it’s just a matter of when. Why a nearly twenty-five year old has to grovel to her seventy-three year old godmom, I’ll never know. Actually I do know. See, her mom was very controlling. The point she went on dates with her daughter as she aged. No, really, she’d just say, “where are we going?” when she hadn’t been invited along. Three’s a crowd. Then you get her ex-husband who was a control freak like no other. Seriously, he sold her mother’s house without even telling them. He walked the fine line of legal because he was a lawyer. Very good at that, sucked at the whole personal asset. Then again, she sold him when he wanted a divorce. Got a damn good settlement. Beside the point though. And then you have her son who doesn’t talk to her all that often except through email; doesn’t update her on her grandkids, and both he and the wife say it’s not necessary for her to visit (they live in Virginia). Lot of bad blood there too.
Basically, she controls everything now, and if she can’t, it’s made damn sure that she can manipulate it later on to fit.
Now, as for my issues, well, I shouldn’t have said that. I know better than to be honest with her. Like really know better because all that happens is I get fucked over, repeatedly for quite a few days. I know to keep those barriers up. I love her to death, but dude, seriously, you can’t be honest. You must stroke the ego and make her feel all powerful.
Talked to my dad about it when I went to get some cash to help pay my medical bills, and he reiterated that. Mind, he made her my godmom and has known her since he was 18. He’s 52 now, so that’s a huge chunk of time. Anyway, so he said that he stopped being her close friend when she told him that “Jessie and I have decided that if we don’t like your girlfriend, we’ll break you up.” Which, yeah, I did, but anyone that’s heard my stepmonster stories knows that it was for both our sanity’s sake. I wonder if that was what drove him to keep the whore? Anyway, so that was about 13 or so year ago. It just is so weird that I have to control my feelings, and can’t even be honest with someone I love.
Gee, why do I have issues out the woohoo? I can’t figure out. Anyway, that was my day…and most of that fight was in 15 minutes. Now my arm hurts and I’ll finish this up for now. I have a lot more to add about other stuff later. Plus, I think that I am forgetting stuff about this.