That's gonna leave a mark.
Big. Really big.
That's how big the screaming match I just had with my mom was. Mega.
As big as when I confronted her about not sharing my birth papers with me.
As big as when I finally exploded about her not remembering my husband's name at my wedding (it was a joke!! No. It really wasn't)
As big as when she caught me "consummating my relationship" with my first love and then promptly marched me over to HIS parent's house to tell them. (for real? yeah. for real)
This was weeks and months of resentment and obligation bubbling up and over and into her ears and then her back and me and hey, did I mention I am good at this, so, right back at her.
Unnecessary things were said. I don't need to catalog them here because then I'll need to look at them.
Here's the thing - I would rather scream and yell and have it out then continue with a charade of niceties and fakeries. What she sees as a "relationship" and "everything is fine" I consider the opposite. If I love you enough to tell you how I really feel, you should know that is love. Not the opposite.
But I did what I resent so much when she does it - I dredged things up from the past. And she was shocked. Speechless at a reality she thought was and one that I dismissed tonight. And I am feeling a little bad about that.
You've changed so much. We used to be so close....
When? Tell me when exactly you thought that was? (there have been varying answers to this in the past so I was curious to see what she said tonight)
When you left for college. That's when everything changed.....
Then that confirms how medicated you were through my high school career. Did you ever wonder why I was at the guidance counselors office every day? Did you ever wonder why I wanted to get to university so badly?
Did you ever wonder why I moved so far away?
**
Yes, friends. I went there. Not unprovoked, but I should know better. I am, allegedly, "the smart one" here. That's another one of her favorite arrows.
I think we should probably not talk for a while. Let her cool off. Let me stop shaking. But I'm sorry, in the Lifetime-movie-watching-mind of my mother, mothers and daughters call each other every day. They share secrets. They plot and scheme and take on the world together. And she is heartbroken that I don't share my deepest, darkest thoughts with her.
That ain't me.
And that never WAS me, but somehow, in her memory, it was. And she is mourning the loss of that, apparently, for decades. That ain't me because in the Lifetime-movie-watching-mind of my mother best friends sit on the porch together and drink mimosas and gossip and kvetch about their woes and their families and hey, my deepest darkest thoughts are seen as fair game. I don't tell her shit because I never know who or when or in what circumstance my words will be repeated back to me.
No! I never do that with personal things!
ALL of my shit is personal to me.
But how do I know the difference?
You don't. Which is why I don't tell you shit.
**
Wow.
And now I just got a baffled and confused call from my dad who picked up the phone when it rang and was on the receiving end of my mom screaming at HIM. Which is kind of what I was yelling at her for in the first place.
**
UPDATE: called my mom and calmly asked why she couldn't wait for me to call my dad to arrange this week of doctor's visits. She says he called her. She didn't even raise her voice and she has witnesses to prove it and he dropped the F bomb on HER. Then hung up.
**
Madness. Madness I tell you.
This getting old shit - its a sonofabitch.
9 comments:
so much of this I could have written about me and my mom. I also don't share things with her because too many things I have shared have been repeated back to me by other people.
It's sad.
Oh,boy, I am no stranger to the mother-daughter screaming match. The English language needs a word for the combination of feeling completely justified and yet vaguely guilty at the same time. Hang tough, M- sounds like you know the terrain here and I'm glad you're stepping back to take care of yourself.
thanks ladies. I honestly felt better letting the demons out. And even better shaking the rest of them off here. I am calm. My mom is calm. Or, maybe we're just tired. Either way, I love you's were exchanged. I will most likely head to bed soon.
And Megan, holy crap. Your blog is gorgeous. I am filled with all kinds of crafty envy.
My mom also lives in that fantasy world too, last time I told her something private she told the whole world, and when i confrtoned her, her response is "were shit, were always shit, were never good enough for you". Whatever, I have not told her a single private thing since, it's been over a year, she was the last to know everything.hugs, crazy family is hard.
Whenever I read hear I always think, "m is such a grown-up--I wonder if I'll ever be as together as she is."
Your honesty is truly inspiring and I'm sure that your mom admires you for it.
I get through rocky times with my mom by playing possum. It's so childish but I just don't have the energy to deal with that stuff.
Glad to hear you're feeling calmer for having emptied it all out. Hope your dad's doing ok.
I've been there... I'm sorry about the emotional turmoil, that's no fun. On my end, over the past year or so I've started to limit discussions with my mom so that things stay civil.
I have to say, I am kind of impressed M. I wish I had the courage to speak my truth with my mom... Sounds like really sucks. I hope that maybe some goods come from it down the road. Wouldn't be nice if mom-daugther relationships were real, and not tainted by the crappy 'recipe' of perfection feed to us.
And seriously, marched you to HIS house! Dear god, that list sounds like some crazy made for TV movie where you can't believe the writers made up such crazy plot points. Sorry you had to live through those. I'd be pissed too and fear what I would have said or done. It wouldn't have been graceful.
I'm just sitting here with my jaw hanging open imagining the scene of you getting caught with your BF and getting marched over to his parents' house. O.M.G.
So, I've made nice with my mom. No apologies. Just called up - wanna go to lunch? yeah. Acted like nothing ever happened. She did too. Cool by me.
Hey Shorten - uh yeah. It was mortifying. Even moreso because he kept laughing. The me now actually looks back and respects that - because, really, what else can you do in a situation as patently absurd as that? My bedroom door was promptly removed from its hinges as well. I don't think I actually got it back until way into college - when I had already moved out.
Yet, I'm the irrational one...
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