Stir Crazy in Hello

I want to get out and do something so bad but moving around too much leaves me fatigued. Still sick, yes. I’ve been going to Circle K for my daily Mt. Dew icee and I did go by Books-A-Million yesterday for a specific book (yeah yeah, I wore a mask) but that’s the extent of it. Mom really fucked her leg up and can’t walk hardly so while being sick I’ve maintained cooking and cleaning details ‘cause ya know, who cares about being sick as Hell, amirite? LOL/s

Speaking of…

Mom has been doing her usual constant gaslighting/trying to get under my skin and it’s working. I’m so done arguing with her over stupid things. Once, just once I’d love to pop her across the face.

OH MY GOD DID YOU JUST SAY YOU WANT TO HIT YOUR MOTHER?!?

Yes, yes I did.
Very.
Badly.
You have NO IDEA! Peacock, Jenn, Angie as well as others say she shows me no respect whatsoever and gets off on making me mad/lying about everything. It’s not a healthy relationship at all. I’ve tried to have a serious talk with her several times and she’ll either make a joke, ignore what I’m saying or just get up and walk away.

I used to fear living alone but these last few years it sounds like Heaven. However, as her health continues to deteriorate I know neither brother will step up to help out yet I’m the black sheep ‘cause I still live with her.

I’m ranting.

As I’m writing this we just got into it ‘cause I refuse to take her to the bank.
“I have a hurt knee…”
Bitch, I’ll take that fucking cane and break your other one.

I’m done today. Peace y’all

Just an update:
Mom is looking for a chicken salad recipe through cookbooks she’s bought at Christmas functions. (Locally produced books.) I asked her if she looked at the one in my bathroom (I needed new reading material.)
“I’ve already looked at that one.”
“You sure? It’s been sitting on the sink counter for over a month.”
“Yes, I’m sure. I took it out of there so it wouldn’t get wet.”
I go into my bathroom, get the cookbook and bring it to her.
“Thought you got it out of there already.”
She sets it down next to her, still insisting she’s already looked at it.
“Okay then, if you looked at it where is it?”
She points to the one I handed her.
“But I just brought that to you?”
“I have another one. I bought two!”
“Where is the other one?”
Again, she points to the one I just brought her.
“It’s your constant lying is why I’ve been getting mad. (I’ve been off my meds for a while now and can’t afford the exorbitant psychiatrist fees. When I’m off my meds I get confrontational ‘cause I lose my ability to suffer people’s bullshit. People describe me as standoff-ish) Like when you argued with Jeff (brother) about dad’s blood type on Memorial Day.”
“His blood type is O positive…”
I cut her off saying, “Then why were you arguing it was AB+?”
“Do I have to go get his license to prove…”
Cut off again, “But you were arguing that his blood type…”
“Whatever Jesse! Just drop it!.”

And people wonder why I drink like I have nothing left to lose. This is a brief glimpse of my daily life.

Before anyone asks, no this isn’t dementia.. She’s been doing this my WHOLE life, it’s just within the last few years (after it being pointed out multiple times) I’ve grown wise to it. It’s bad when you can trust a single thing a parent says to you.

Hell, the only reason I was at BAM yesterday is it’s down the street from the funereal home I dropped mom off at yesterday. Coroner’s sister passed away. She hemmed and hawed that she didn’t know where it was/would get lost despite it being the same funereal home we went to for uncle Don’s funereal. The same one SHE WENT TO BY HERSELF for a former coworker that died a few years back.

Last updated June 22, 2022