Something I'd Hoped to Avoid

Monday, April 19, 1999

Much like my run-in with my former friends yesterday, I'd hoped to avoid 'having it out' with Mom before I left. Maybe that wasn't a good thing; maybe it had to happen. I dunno... I think I'm still a little bit in shock.

I knew this morning that it was going to happen. I'd gone out into the kitchen after something, and Peanut, our youngest female cat, had been picking on Munchie, my black female cat who is about four years old, and currently licking herself bare due to itching problems. I consider both of them to be my cats, but lately Mom's been dropping hints that Peanut 'wants to stay here with me' ('me' being Mom)... in other words, Mom wants to keep Peanut.

So, half jokingly, I made the comment that I'd just take Munchie and Morris with us, since Mom has tried to give Morris away already, and Jev is rather fond of him. Mom said, 'Why don't you...' and then turned right around and said, 'You don't want to do that, he's been going around the house pissing in the corners. I'm going to have him put to sleep.'

That upset me horribly... you don't just put an animal down because they've developed a bad habit! I don't even know if she's seen Morris leaving his mark around the house... I think she's just blaming it on him because she doesn't like him. This is the "little orange cat" that she wanted a few years ago, and that she picked out.

So, not only was my idea of taking Morris instead of Peanut wrong according to her, but now she's going to have Morris put down. If she was going to do it, she could have waited until I was gone, and then had it done and I would have found out about it down the line. But no, she threw it in my face.

So I went to my room, shut both doors (softly), crawled under the covers, and cried. I'd already had a rough morning with Jev for various reasons (which we'd worked out not long before he left), and I was still feeling off balance from that, so I cried myself to sleep for a bit. When I woke up, I hopped back online to catch Jev after his first class.

I told him all about it, and how angry and upset I was, and he said that if I really wanted to, and we could find an apartment that would let us have three cats, I could bring Morris too; he re-emphasized that he really does like Morris -- he's a calm, laid-back sort of cat; not too bright, but his heart's in the right place. And I told him I'd be damned if Mom kept Peanut from me... if she's Mom's cat, why did Mom make me pay for her vaccinations, and her spay? He said she'd never notice if we just happened to sneak Peanut out with us as we left.

But in the end, I said I really felt like I was stuck with an impossible decision, since I think it will be hard enough to bring two cats on a cross-country move. So do I take Morris and let Mom have Peanut? Or do I take Peanut and let Morris be put to sleep?

Now, it just so happens that Mom made an appointment for me to take Munchie in to the vet and get her looked at and get an injection of steroids to help the itching that's making her lick herself bare. While we were in the waiting room, Mom told me how she didn't think I could manage to take two cats with me across country, and I should just take one at a time (presumably Munchie first). Of course, by time I came back to get Peanut (whenever that would be), she would be so completely Mom's cat, that I would feel horrible about taking her away. So I told Mom I wasn't coming back. I was taking both of them with me, and that was that.

Yes, I know it was mean, and I really didn't mean it as harshly as it sounded; I meant I wasn't making another trip back here, just to get a cat. She just said, 'Fine, do it your way,' and shortly thereafter, the vet came out and got my cat in her carrier and we went back into his office.

I thought that things had cooled off when I got back out with Munchie -- she'd been horrid (she hates the vet), and the vet had to stick her several times before he was able to get the steroids into her (so now she hates the vet even more), poor baby. Mom took her out to the car, and sent me back in after the flea treatment I'd forgotten to ask for. I came out and got in the car, and Mom drove us home, sniffing and holding back tears.

I know I should have apologized, but I was still angry for this morning, so I didn't say anything. We came inside -- I had a package waiting from me from barnes and noble online -- and Mom went and shut herself in her room and bawled. I proceeded to try to get the worming pill down Peanut -- and it took several times -- all the while, Mom was bawling.

When I was done (I got half of it into her, I guess I'll try for the other half later), I went in my room and shut both of my doors, so I wouldn't hear Mom, and hopped online. Jev was there, of course, and I told him my side of the story, and more or less completely broke down on him, asking if I'd done something to deserve this, and if he thought I was in the wrong. He said he didn't think I should have to apologize, and he talked to me a while, until I was at least mostly pulled back together, then he apologized because he had to go off to an important meeting, and dinner with a friend, and so on.

Once he'd headed off, I went out into the living room to retrieve the package from B&N that I'd forgotten, and I came back to my room. I opened it up, looked through my books, and was going to head out onto the back steps to read and clear my head. At least, I was until Mom came roaring in my room, screaming at me, 'How dare you say such a mean, hateful thing, right there in front of all those people!'

When I saw her coming, I grabbed up my purse, figuring if she decided to lock me out, I'd be able to get back in later this evening. I didn't say a word, just tried to walk past her and out of the house, so she shoved me back into my room and said that I wasn't setting foot outside of the house, and she tried to block my way.

There are two doors out of my bedroom, and since the rooms are arranged in a circular fashion, she wasn't keeping me from going anywhere. I'll be damned if I'm going to let her dictate when I can and can't leave the house. Both of us screamed at each other a bit more, and I walked out the front door and didn't look back until I was halfway down the next block.

She wasn't coming after me, and I was already pretty well out of breath, so I slowed down, and started trying to think of where to go. Really, I just wanted some time away from her to cool off, and so I continued on down to the main street, and up to the alley that runs behind both blocks of houses. I sat on a low brick wall for a while to catch my breath, waved at Will's ex and her girls as they drove past (that's the second time I've seen them lately), and decided it was time to head back toward home.

I was pretty tired out by time I got back to our backyard, so I sat on a stump back at the far end of the property for a couple minutes to rest, but then decided the back steps would mean less ants trying to crawl on me. So I sat on the back steps and caught my breath, and just tried to relax. Walking off in a huff really took it out of me... I'm in worse shape than even I'd imagined.

Once I was breathing normally again, I pulled my book out of my purse where I'd stashed it, and started to read. I could hear Mom in the kitchen, and then in the laundry room (which opens onto the back steps), and I figured all she had to do was look out and see me there, and I guess she did, but I didn't know it at that point.

The lawn man eventually showed up with his edger, working his way along our back fence, so I said hi and we exchanged a few pleasantries, and his wife came along with the mower behind him. I headed around to the front a short while later, not really sure what to expect. 'Well, well, nowhere to go?' Mom asked snidely as I came back in. I said I'd been sitting on the back steps the last 45 minutes, and she said she knew where I was, obviously so happy to see me back again.

I don't remember the precise order of things after that, but we had another screaming match, and she reminded me again what an ungrateful, selfish, spoiled little brat that I am, and how could I be so terribly hateful. I screamed back that she hurt my feelings on a regular basis, but she didn't give a damn about that, and I headed toward my room, with her still screaming. I said I didn't want to see her the rest of the day, and slammed my doors -- both of them -- shut. 'Why don't you slam them a little harder?' she asked, of course. I didn't.

So I came and sat here in my chair, trying to cool off because I knew how sky high my blood pressure was probably going. Within ten minutes, she was in here, screaming at me again about how I treat her like shit, never give her cards for holidays, or presents, or anything like that, never do any chores, and I'm so goddamned ungrateful. She buys me everything I want, and takes me everywhere I want to go, and what do I do for her?

She left, and slammed my door. I couldn't help but say, 'Why don't you slam it a little harder?' and I half hoped that she would, but she didn't.

Most of it is true, I suppose. I don't do the card thing -- I didn't even send out Christmas cards this year, to anyone! -- I don't show her that I appreciate her, and I probably deserve most of the rotten things she said. I don't care anymore; she destroyed my trust half my lifetime ago, and she's never apologized for any of that.

Yes, she buys me everything my heart desires... that's funny, you know? I've been buying mostly my own stuff since I was eighteen years old. Looking around my room, the only things I have that she bought are the monitor and hard drive from my old Packard Hell computer (inside my current computer, along with the one my friends bought for me on my birthday three years ago), the daybed I didn't even want at the time (I was fourteen or fifteen, and I liked my canopy bed, but nooooooo that was childish and I had to get rid of it and get a grownup daybed!), a few stuffed animals, clothes from yard sales, and some of my cherished teddies and the shelves they sit on.

I bought the insides to my new computer, the modem, the zip drive, I paid for half of the smaller TV I have now to replace the one she took (and had previously given me) when hers died a year and a half ago, my musical Yamaha keyboard, my VCR, my CDs and software and scanner and lamps and more than half of the cherished teddies. Yes, she just buys me everything.

I do rely on Mom's Taxi an awful lot, but she never had the patience to teach me to drive, so I don't feel that's entirely my fault; I sure as hell didn't want to come to this snotrag of a town that I live in, and have been stuck in for more than five years now.

Anyway, she came in a second time, about ten or fifteen minutes later, yelling and screaming more things she'd thought up (actually it was the 'you never give me a card, do any chores, appreciate me; you always treat me like shit' routine then), and I just let her. I was a little cooler headed that time, and I didn't scream back near as much. Actually, I agreed with her that I was many of the things she claimed. At the end, she said that she's going to pay me back by treating me just like I treat her, and left.

Good! Fine! Just don't damage any of my property in the meanwhile, and I'll be happily out of your hair in just about four weeks. You'll never have to see me again, if that's what you want. And no, I didn't say most of those things to her. But I did start thinking, and trying to come up with some way that I could move out of here on the first. I don't see that as a likely possibility.

We'll see what she does when I'm gone and don't pay her rent anymore, though; her credit card is almost maxxed out -- and I pay off my portion every month when it comes due. I had planned to help her pay off her bills once I left, but now I see that she doesn't need me, so I guess she doesn't need my help or my money, either.

So that's where I'm at, right now. I get to fend for myself for a while. If she will apologize and do it without screaming at me, I'll apologize too, and do my share of work around the house, which she never asks me to do, she just does if I don't. I'm not a self-starter, and I'm not one who can get up and get right to work in the morning; if she doesn't like the way I work, and wants to do it herself, I won't stop her.

If she won't apologize, I'll get my plane tickets, spend another near two hundred dollars on airport shuttles back and forth, and somehow manage to round up enough boxes and get myself packed, without her help. If I thought I could handle the road trip both ways, I'd just get a one way ticket, and save myself a bit in the airport shuttle fees. And until she can speak to me civilly, and apologize for screaming at me, I'll just disappear from her life, like I wished I could have done at age sixteen. Like my real mother did at seventeen. That will make two generations of daughters whom she has been estranged from. I see a trend here, and I'm beginning to feel like maybe this isn't all my fault.

As an aside... after our first run-in this morning, I found myself having suicidal thoughts; not the first I've ever had, and not even the first I've had in a long time. But this time I thought of something that I could actually do, if I didn't have Jevim in my life. I thought of getting one of our plastic grocery bags, tying it over my head, and lying down to take a nice, long nap. Of course, that means that I wouldn't ever have that time with Jev that I want so bad, and I don't want to hurt him by taking that time away from him. But it was a very real thought, for a while.

For some reason, anger keeps me from feeling those suicidal thoughts, now. I just want to get out of here and away and not have to deal with Mom any more. I know I've sounded very hateful today, but honestly I don't want anything genuinely bad to happen to her; I just wish she'd wake up and realize how much her criticism has hurt me in my life. She doesn't care... one of the times she came back to my room to scream at me, she said, 'You know the difference between you and me? I don't say things that hurt your feelings intentionally! You do!' And yet, if she doesn't do it intentionally, why doesn't she ever apologize when she does do it? She knows when it happens, I can't hide my tears from her. But she never seems to care, or say she's sorry.

I don't say that I'm right... I admit, I'm guilty of a number of the things she's accused me of today; I'm not perfect, and I'm sure as hell not the perfect daughter she thinks I should be. But I felt that it was time for me to stand up, and make known my own feelings on matters, even if I did scream them at times. While it felt good to get some of those things out, I don't recommend it as a way to mend past wrongs... violence and anger, even when it's only screaming and shoving, only begets more violence and anger. At this point, I don't know if the wounds she and I have caused each other will ever heal.