Mom is throwing a no-one-cares-about-me fit. (sigh) I hate these nights. There is so much guilt and tension. She’s stressed. I get it. No control. Life caving in. But it’s not my fault that she doesn’t talk to anyone. And I don’t appreciate her putting me down when she’s upset.
There is nothing right I could do tonight. I don’t want to talk to her. I’m not in an understanding mood. I’m NOT her friend. She drove me around today, which I’m grateful for, but now she’s mad at me for never finishing projects. I counted all the change in her piggy bank tonight and she told me to put it back in. What? And she’s constantly fighting with the cat. I know she’s into everything but it’s NOT IMPORTANT. Zoe being on the counter is not worth getting upset about. She’s not gonna learn if you’re never not mad at her. If everything is wrong, nothing is.
Zoe was stuck balancing on the door tonight and I told Mom to sit down, that scaring her wouldn’t do any good. She was so angry. She sat down at the computer and said nobody cares about her. (I have a headache now.) Then she stormed off into her room mumbling to herself.
This week she’s mad at me for not being stable, not being able to make decisions, not understanding what she says. I can’t answer your question if I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I can’t twitch my nose and be magically symptom-free. I can’t make money appear out of nowhere or make Zoe a calm kitten.
Today was pretty good. I saw Jim and ran errands, went to the Jazz 88 happy hour, and then to see Janice Edwards who sang “Come In From the Rain” for me. And I decided that some time in the future I want to have a baby. Even if it is selfish… And I brainstormed a new project that might actually be successful.
I may not be able to finish a sorting project. I may rock randomly and be confused easily, but I’m living my life. I’m making it. I’m doing what I need to do to get by and to be happy. I can’t make her happy.
© Michelle Routhieaux 2010