Mother fucker... I know now why that phrase found it's place in the world. Is there anyone more difficult to deal with? Once my absolute hero and friend; now my greatest tormentor. She knows just what to say to hurt me, she can cut me off at the knees and, during this trip, I pointed it out to her, every single time. Probably not the nicest thing to do but... how do you say 'too fucking bad' in french? Why? I thought that word a million times while she was here. Why does she treat me this way?
Now, before I get into this, I want you to understand that I truly love my mother. She was a great inspiration to me when I was growing up and I really did idolize her. She has opened her home and changed the lives of so many people I have lost count. She is a good person and she gets involved. The problem is, I guess, that she doesn't stop bitching and complaining about it. She's got a major 'poor me' syndrome. It's sad, actually; I don't remember her being like that when I was younger - then again, maybe that's how she guilt-ed me into being her devoted servant (my endearing nickname was Cinderella). A lot of the bad stuff about me came from her but a lot of the good stuff did, too. (odd... it just came to me how it must be for her to lose her biggest fan. Rough. I never really thought of that before.) She raised me in her image; a Patsy 2.0, if you will. However, she didn't see this little bump in the road, this absolute belief in all of the things she said, good and bad - and that it would eventually come back to bite her on the ass.
Luckily she said good things. She told me that everyone was equal, she took me to church and taught me to believe in a love that was greater than even hers, she was a go-getter, a person people looked up to, and I wanted nothing more than to be her. Unfortunately, although I realize that she had to have learned this part of her personality, too, she was mean. Not in the traditional way of being mean, though. She didn't scream, she didn't fight; she was aloof, detached, uninterested and difficult to please. She doesn't believe in showing emotion, she views it as weak (sound familiar?). She taught me that everyone was equal, even God thought so, and yet she was quick to point out the flaws in everyone, including, and especially, me.
We were all sitting here talking the other night, all us girls in the family. Every time someone told a memory about me as a child, Mom said "really? I don't remember that at all". She doesn't remember any of it. Because she wasn't there; she did not see me. And, before I go any further, obviously that kind of thing isn't enough to even talk about in itself, but there is more.
On Saturday night we had a chick party, including karaoke. We were up dancing around, singing, being silly. Debra was hilarious, definitely 'on'; I was pretty funny, too, if I do say so myself! But to me, and to me only, she did that fucking tsk tsk tsk thing that she does. (there is a very entertaining entry about the subject in January 2006... but I'm not that far into my transposing yet so you have to wait!) Tsk tsk tsk, now Bev. What? Now Bev what? No more having fun? No more showing emotion, even if it's pleasure? Did I seem like I was having such a good time that she needed to pull me back? Why was it was okay for Debra to have a good time but not me? I even pointed out that she singled me out because she doesn't believe that she does it. In front of everyone, I cried fowl. Exactly, right there, this is what I'm talking about. I don't get why she does it or when it's coming so I can't even avoid it. No matter what I do and no matter what I did I got tsk tsk tsk, shake shake shake. She cuts me off at the knees; I'm having fun so she feels that she must intervene and make it stop. Why?
So, earlier that day, we dropped off a case of beer for Ian because he didn't charge for looking at the computer that Debra was giving to mom. And she was there, the other woman. lol. It got me down a bit. I have been quite open with my loved ones about my lingering feelings for Ian and I have also been quite proud of letting myself have the feelings and for having them out loud. Anyway, while we were watching the movie, Stacey and I were joking around and addressing the actors as your boyfriend or my boyfriend. I really love my boyfriend, James Marsden. And at some point I jokingly replied to something that someone said about Ian and sarcastically addressed him as my boyfriend, Ian. And then I laughed. She looked at me, all disgusted, and said "oh, get over it". Shortly after, old habits die hard and all, I went into my room because I got a bit teary... it was hard to watch a sappy chick movie while all I can think about is seeing another woman in my kitchen and know that she was spending time with my man and playing with my dog in a way that I no longer can, and to top it all off, my mother was sitting next to me telling me to stop having these feelings. Mom comes in and starts saying stuff like I needed to get over it, oh crap I don't remember, she just was telling me that my reaction to my upset was wrong, that it was wrong to be upset at all, stuff it down, it will go away, just stuff. Here, have a fucking cookie.
I feel the need to point out that I'm not saying that this was abuse, I'm not saying that it was any worse than anyone else's childhood and I recognize and absolutely give thanks for what I have and what I had; I'm saying that this is how a part of my personality that I do not like was formed and I am learning from it so that I can learn a better way. Cathy said that her memories of being a kid and watching mom bake was sitting up to the counter on a stool and how it was such a special bonding time. My memories of watching mom were 'if you want to help then stay out of the way'. Once she was baking a batch of cookies and they looked so good and she told me that I wasn't allowed to have one but if I lost 20 pounds she would bake me a batch all for myself (I was about 7 or 8). On lazy afternoons when I was a kid, my dad and I would be downstairs and he would put on some music and I would dance, believing that I was a beautiful ballerina, as is every girl's dream. One day, after an especially amazing dancing session when I knew that I had been gifted with an obvious natural talent, I ran upstairs to my mom and asked her if I could take ballet lessons. She said "you are too fat, none of the boys will be able to lift you". She said, no, you are too fat and none of the boys will be able to lift you. Can you even believe that a mother would say such a mean thing to her child? We were talking once a couple of years ago and, when I told her that story, she laughed and thought it was a funny thing to say. Yeah, that's how I felt, too. What a funny, funny thing to say to your chubby daughter.
Oh, please, Mother, tell me another of your wonderful 'when I was your age' stories, tell me again how you were always out of town, always at a party, never home in the day, evening, weekend. Oh, what an amazing life she had! I remember that, too. I was at home - raising her child, doing the laundry and the dishes and the cooking. I had to come home directly after school every day to babysit, when I was old enough to get a job like my sister and brother did, I was not allowed because she wanted me to be available at all times in case she needed a babysitter. When Debra was sick, she took me out of school to watch her. Did I ever tell you that I started babysitting at the age of 9? It was okay because I was very mature, she says. The next time you see a 9 year old, imagine leaving her alone in your home with your infant child... how is it possible that any 9 year old is that mature? Maybe it did work out for the best though, I was already half trained when Debra came into the world. But I'm not bitter. lol. She went on and on the other day about how she believes that it's so much more important to be with a child during their teen years than it is to be with them as toddlers. That is when they need the most guidance. What about me? Is she saying that she realizes the mistakes that she made? I honestly don't know, but I doubt it.
Last night I showed her and Cathy my personals profile. She said "you put a picture of you and Debra there? Everyone will want to date her instead." She does not hurt me anymore with these comments but she sure can surprise me with them. Was that an absolutely necessary thing to say to your daughter who is obviously dealing with the rejection of a man that she loves but is trying to pull herself up and find a better life? Mother fucker!!!!!!!!!! Told ya. The inspiration. However, this time I turned to her and asked her why she was so mean, if she was trying to hurt my feelings or perhaps I had done something to her so terrible that she felt that she had to say things like that. Well, apparently, I must have some low self esteem if a simple joke like that hurt my feelings. I wonder why, Mom. I wonder why. A little later she was saying to Cathy something that she thought I would get so upset about - something that would not upset me in the very tiny least - and I turned to her and said "you don't know me at all". And she doesn't. And that, if nothing else, gives me peace.
