I really need to get out of my house. I don�t know what I was thinking, believing that I could make it a full six months here. I don�t know why I tell myself every year that things will be different, that I will be more patient, that my mother will be less intrusive. People don�t change. What was I thinking?
My car has been acting strangely. When I start it, it has stalled out a couple of times, but what I�ve seen more is that when I start it, put it in drive, and then hit the gas, it�s like the gas comes and goes. The car jerks forward like a bucking horse, kinda. It�s like it�s getting power, then not getting power.
Obviously, this disturbs me. However, when I stop the car, and then restart it, it works like normal.
I was hesitant to bring this to my mother�s attention because it would only cause her to spaz out and start pestering me. I know, however, that this problem could potentially be bad and even become worse through time. I would take care of the problem myself, but I would need someone to drive me to work while I took the car in. Obviously, my mom would be asking questions if she had to drive me to work and pick me up.
So I bring it up.
She starts by first, of course, not understanding what I�m talking about. Then she starts throwing suggestions out there.
Maybe it�s the alternator? Maybe it�s the fuel injectors? Maybe it�s�..?
That would be wonderful, except, she knows shit about cars. I, too, know shit about cars. So, someone please tell me, what the fuck good it does for the two of us to bounce suggestions off of each other. I�d really like to know, because my mother didn�t seem to understand why I refused to participate.
She also suggested looking it up on the internet. Where would I do this? How would I describe the problem accurately? Why the hell would I trust someone on the internet? Again, these questions seemed to elude her.
She decided to call a friend of hers that she bowls with that knows a thing or two about cars. When he finally called back, he told her something, and then she relayed it to me.
�He says to put some gas additive in the next time you fill up.�
�Which one?�
�I don�t know.�
That�s fuckin great mom. Way to go. I realize that she�s trying, but does she have to act like a dumb blonde? Why do you not write things down?
So when she�s speaking to me, she is, of course, mumbling like she usually does. My mother, even though I�ve tried explaining this to her, does not seem to understand how the theory of sound propagation works. The direction you speak in is the direction that the sound will be the loudest. This concept, also, eludes her.
She�ll constantly talk with something in front of her face, she�ll mumble, she�ll talk with food in her mouth, she�ll talk from other rooms, she�ll talk to you while you�re in the backseat, she�s in the front seat, and the radio is on. Often times, it results in me asking her to speak up. This, apparently, is a very offensive request.
Instead of apologizing and actually trying to speak properly, she�ll accuse others of being deaf, or sarcastically over-emphasize every word by screaming. Is it necessary? Fuck no. Why does she do it? I think it�s to be a bitch, but I don�t know, honestly.
I�ve told her, repeatedly, to enunciate, speak up, speak clearly, and not block her mouth, but, the laws of physics must not apply to her. Like I�ve always said, God is supposed to yield to my mother and if He ever question her, all hell will break loose.
It is fuckin irritating as hell to live with someone who is goddamn infallible. I�m so tired of being screamed at for no reason. I�m so tired of her proclaiming that she never said something.
Try this one on for size�.
The other day, she couldn�t hear me. I repeated what I said, nice and loudly to her, and she said, �don�t raise your voice to me.�
The first thing that ran through my mind is, �Hmmm�.every day I�m screamed at, but because I�m younger, I�m supposed to be cheery and smiley to her even though she�s blatantly not listening to me.� My verbal response was, �You do it to me.� She responds, obviously in a huff, �No I don�t. I don�t ever raise my voice to you.� I wanted to laugh, but that wasn�t the point.
She screamed at me today for asking her to raise her voice. I brought up that little conversation that we had last week and she claimed that she �never� said that. I remember the exact phrase and almost exactly the inflection she spoke in, down to the high pitched balk. Who do you think would have the better memory of the situation? The 22 year old or the 51 year old?
Her craziness makes me want to rip everything I can tear to shreds. She denies things that she does EVERY FUCKIN DAY. And�.I think she really does believe that she is this St. Theresa figure.
Now, don�t get me wrong. My mother is not, by any means, a horrible person. She is just an impossible person to get along with. I really hope that I never end up that way, but I haven�t met a single person who interacts with her regularly and doesn�t engage in some ritualistic argument with her.
God, I�m so fuckin frustrated. I�m so sick of her being so goddamn blind to what a bitch she can really be. I mean, we�d get along great if only I would bow down to her every whim. She�s not feeling well? Okay, everyone be quiet. She doesn�t like TV? Everyone turn it off. She�s hormonal? We have to deal. She�s been hormonal for 20 years. I really don�t think that menopause lasts that long.
I just wonder how I learned the concept of sharing and humility from a person who never apologizes and thinks that everyone and everything should be done her way. I mean, I don�t easily see that I am wrong, but I do see it, and I do apologize for it.
Oh my god I need to move.
