If your Internet crashed today, it is due to the Oxford Dictionary-sized email my mother just sent to my sister and I.
I would repost it here, except I don't want my friends to read it and then have a sudden desire to stick their head in the oven.
To summarize, she took 2,000 words to say:
"You and your sister are being mean to me. I need help and can't do anythig for myself. The way you have helped in the past is not acceptable. I am lucky we didn't blow away in the hurricane. I can't take care of myself. Other kids take care of THEIR parents. I need help with everything. My friend in Australia says you are going to hell for not helping me. I need full-time care. It is your fault if something happens to me. I need help and can't do anything for myself."
For the sake of clarity it should be noted that this "friend in Australia" has never met her or even talked to her in person. In fact, based on the way this "friend" enables her -- I think the "friend" might be several fries short of a Happy Meal too.
By the way... I am not exaggerating the word count. I put it in my text writer and it counted 1,881 words,
As reference: that is about 5-6 pages with normal spacing.
Ugh. I can't even talk about this anymore.
It was so "batshit crazy" (as a woman on the BPD Family Support Forum put it) that I am mentally exhausted and just want a jug of wine and a 14-hour nap.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Daily Nugget
Today's Memory Nugget is again brought to you by Sutter Home Chardonney...because I can't seem to find the Whipped Orange Pinnacle Vodka I've heard so much about.
I was about 9.
My grandparents (my mother's parents) wanted to take me to stay with them for the summer.
For two months I was to be 500 miles and 6 hours away from home.
My grandparents and I are in the car in front of my house, and we are giving our final waves before pulling away.
I looked up at my mother standing in the doorway, and she is crying...and crying.
"Why is she crying?", I thought, "...she doesn't even like me."
Memories light the corners of my mind.
I was about 9.
My grandparents (my mother's parents) wanted to take me to stay with them for the summer.
For two months I was to be 500 miles and 6 hours away from home.
My grandparents and I are in the car in front of my house, and we are giving our final waves before pulling away.
I looked up at my mother standing in the doorway, and she is crying...and crying.
"Why is she crying?", I thought, "...she doesn't even like me."
Memories light the corners of my mind.
Never Ending Hurricane Obsession
A Facebook friend -- who shall remain nameless -- just sent me the best message about how my mother has been over-obsessing about the hurricane (and anything else she can think of).
It was the best thing I've read in days. Truly. I snorted.
I may have peed a little.
"Poor [her] survived the hurricane and is praying for a tornado to pop up in DC so she can have another day to worry."
It always warms the cockles of my heart when someone who knows us both truly understands.
It was the best thing I've read in days. Truly. I snorted.
I may have peed a little.
"Poor [her] survived the hurricane and is praying for a tornado to pop up in DC so she can have another day to worry."
It always warms the cockles of my heart when someone who knows us both truly understands.
Drama Infinity
For your entertainment (?), I present to you:
A timeline of "Mother drama" for the past couple weeks:
(read as if mother is talking)
* So sick...so sick...need someone to get groceries. (problem solved, when sister went)
...merged immediately into...
* So sick...so sick...need someone to take over the bills. (We ignored the request, so this begging drama went on for days and then turned into....)
* So sick...so sick...need to tell you important information about the bills. Come talk to me. Come to my house. Can't tell you over phone or in email. Come over. (Days of nagging, begging, pleading drama. My sister finally went and found mother to be energetic with no real info to tell. She had won the battle of control.)
....but....that "crisis" solved, she IMMEDIATELY started on....
*. Ohmygosh a REAL crisis could happen! A hurricane might come at the end of the week! Obsess obsess obsess....
...then distracted mid-hurricane-obsession by....
*. EARTHQUAKE!! Hysteria! Obsession!
....then right back to....
* HURRICANE COMING!!! Help...so sick...can't do things! What if windows blow out? What if a tree falls! What if the power goes out? What if the cell phone doesn't work? What if...what if...what if...
....this continued for days until about two hours ago, when she can no longer legitimately (?) obsess about the hurricane. So now we had to FIND SOMETHING to create drama about... So we have moved onto...
*. Can't stand the dust smell in the house. Need someone to change the filters. Please come...can't stand the smell...please come... (WTH? This isnt just a request, of course.... It is a new crisis. How does she come up with this stuff???)
....and
* They say trees can fall cause ground is wet. And tornados can still happen in [county far away].
What is next if/when someone changes her filters or she decides to move on to a new crisis?
It is anybody's guess.
A timeline of "Mother drama" for the past couple weeks:
(read as if mother is talking)
* So sick...so sick...need someone to get groceries. (problem solved, when sister went)
...merged immediately into...
* So sick...so sick...need someone to take over the bills. (We ignored the request, so this begging drama went on for days and then turned into....)
* So sick...so sick...need to tell you important information about the bills. Come talk to me. Come to my house. Can't tell you over phone or in email. Come over. (Days of nagging, begging, pleading drama. My sister finally went and found mother to be energetic with no real info to tell. She had won the battle of control.)
....but....that "crisis" solved, she IMMEDIATELY started on....
*. Ohmygosh a REAL crisis could happen! A hurricane might come at the end of the week! Obsess obsess obsess....
...then distracted mid-hurricane-obsession by....
*. EARTHQUAKE!! Hysteria! Obsession!
....then right back to....
* HURRICANE COMING!!! Help...so sick...can't do things! What if windows blow out? What if a tree falls! What if the power goes out? What if the cell phone doesn't work? What if...what if...what if...
....this continued for days until about two hours ago, when she can no longer legitimately (?) obsess about the hurricane. So now we had to FIND SOMETHING to create drama about... So we have moved onto...
*. Can't stand the dust smell in the house. Need someone to change the filters. Please come...can't stand the smell...please come... (WTH? This isnt just a request, of course.... It is a new crisis. How does she come up with this stuff???)
....and
* They say trees can fall cause ground is wet. And tornados can still happen in [county far away].
What is next if/when someone changes her filters or she decides to move on to a new crisis?
It is anybody's guess.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Hurricane Homegirl
This is [one of] the text message(s) my mother sent to my sister this afternoon.
It is important to note that use of the word "homey" ....uh....I mean "honey" and references to "I love you" are brand spankin new to her vocabulary. Again, a total change of game play.
Homey I am scared I cant do stuff insane to becauth u Indian u cared iblovecu uvarevonle ones that can grab cats have suuppliesvhsve told u that but undone want us scared have virtually everything ready theyvsaid on news thing Stsrt to go downhill by 2pmhow why do I have to beg love u
Since she didn't speak Crazy today, my sister sent it to me to interpret.
I put into Google Translate and got two possible translations:
(1). Honey, I am scared. I can't do stuff. [I have no idea] [I have no idea]. you are the only one who can grab the cats. I have supplies. [I have no idea] but you dont want us. Scared. Have virtually everything ready. They've said on the news that it will start to go downhill by 2:00pm tomorrow. Why do I have to beg? Love you.
(2). Yo! Homey! I be freakin. Dis shit be insane like Indian attackin' a white boy. I be all over u wit love, but u need to git dem pussycats. I have da goods. But you be dissin' me. And I freakin'. It be gettin ghetto bad tomorrow. You my homegirl!
I think either translation is valid as they both convey panic and unprecedented affection.
It is important to note that use of the word "homey" ....uh....I mean "honey" and references to "I love you" are brand spankin new to her vocabulary. Again, a total change of game play.
Homey I am scared I cant do stuff insane to becauth u Indian u cared iblovecu uvarevonle ones that can grab cats have suuppliesvhsve told u that but undone want us scared have virtually everything ready theyvsaid on news thing Stsrt to go downhill by 2pmhow why do I have to beg love u
Since she didn't speak Crazy today, my sister sent it to me to interpret.
I put into Google Translate and got two possible translations:
(1). Honey, I am scared. I can't do stuff. [I have no idea] [I have no idea]. you are the only one who can grab the cats. I have supplies. [I have no idea] but you dont want us. Scared. Have virtually everything ready. They've said on the news that it will start to go downhill by 2:00pm tomorrow. Why do I have to beg? Love you.
(2). Yo! Homey! I be freakin. Dis shit be insane like Indian attackin' a white boy. I be all over u wit love, but u need to git dem pussycats. I have da goods. But you be dissin' me. And I freakin'. It be gettin ghetto bad tomorrow. You my homegirl!
I think either translation is valid as they both convey panic and unprecedented affection.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Alternate Reality
Still in the grips of prime hurricane Irene obsession mode, my mother is posting Facebook updates and/or concerns approximately every 8.2 seconds.
(It's possible I might be exaggerating this time frame. Every 10.9 seconds is probably more accurate. *cough*)
So...today she writes that she hopes her windows don't blow out.
[insert eye-roll emoticon here]
Ok. If a trim limb falls the wrong way a window could break.
But nothing is going to "blow out". Her area will not be evacuated. It is unlikely she would even be flooded.
Of course, this isn't the best part.
The best part is that she wrote she is afraid of a power outage (ok)...and that....(wait for it) she remembers "being without electric for years."
Really?
Years?
When was this? That decade during her formative years when the family lived in a remote shack in the back woods of Ohio, and cooked their self-shot squirrel using only sticks and rocks as fuel?
Please.
She was born, raised, and has always lived in a suburban home with full electricity and indoor plumbing.
(It's possible I might be exaggerating this time frame. Every 10.9 seconds is probably more accurate. *cough*)
So...today she writes that she hopes her windows don't blow out.
[insert eye-roll emoticon here]
Ok. If a trim limb falls the wrong way a window could break.
But nothing is going to "blow out". Her area will not be evacuated. It is unlikely she would even be flooded.
Of course, this isn't the best part.
The best part is that she wrote she is afraid of a power outage (ok)...and that....(wait for it) she remembers "being without electric for years."
Really?
Years?
When was this? That decade during her formative years when the family lived in a remote shack in the back woods of Ohio, and cooked their self-shot squirrel using only sticks and rocks as fuel?
Please.
She was born, raised, and has always lived in a suburban home with full electricity and indoor plumbing.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Today's Nugget
Today's Memory Nugget is sponsored by Sutter Home Chardonney.
The go-to inebriation of choice for poor folk with crazy mamas.
It has never been advisable to have my mother deal with anything truly important. She would either panic, or (purposely, it seems) say the EXACT wrong thing to either piss the other person off...or attempt to garner more "poor her" attention.
In fact, it got so bad, that my dad would never let her deal with utilities phone calls or bill collectors. If the caller wanted to talk to her specifically, he would say "my wife is an invalid, I handle all her business."
The prime example of her needing to be seen as "poor her" rather than meeting the immediate goal, is when she had to speak in court years ago regarding a traffic accident.
Someone ran the light at the intersection, totally the van she was driving. She then had back pain she was being treated for, that she said was new pain due to the accident.
The attorney thought she had a good case due to the fault of the other driver...and simply wanted medical reimbursement for the back injury.
When on the stand, the opposing attorney asked "have you ever had back pain before?"
Well...my mother...always wanting to seem the sickest in the room...and needing everyone to feel sorry for her...responded: "ohhh yes, I am always in pain. For years and years...."
Case closed.
The go-to inebriation of choice for poor folk with crazy mamas.
It has never been advisable to have my mother deal with anything truly important. She would either panic, or (purposely, it seems) say the EXACT wrong thing to either piss the other person off...or attempt to garner more "poor her" attention.
In fact, it got so bad, that my dad would never let her deal with utilities phone calls or bill collectors. If the caller wanted to talk to her specifically, he would say "my wife is an invalid, I handle all her business."
The prime example of her needing to be seen as "poor her" rather than meeting the immediate goal, is when she had to speak in court years ago regarding a traffic accident.
Someone ran the light at the intersection, totally the van she was driving. She then had back pain she was being treated for, that she said was new pain due to the accident.
The attorney thought she had a good case due to the fault of the other driver...and simply wanted medical reimbursement for the back injury.
When on the stand, the opposing attorney asked "have you ever had back pain before?"
Well...my mother...always wanting to seem the sickest in the room...and needing everyone to feel sorry for her...responded: "ohhh yes, I am always in pain. For years and years...."
Case closed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)