yar..

[hippybngstockng]

I really hate the feeling I am left with after a really bad visit from my mom. I'm really a total selfish brat. I don't want to do anything, or have anything asked of me, or even to be nice. I just want to sit and do nothing, let things go completely while I take 5 days to watch all of Star Trek from beginning to end. Drink heavily, smoke lots, and generally be an old fart and not move. Really though, that's just me being unhappy with myself- It's one thing to not live up to someone's expectations, it's another to become the thing they complain about the most, just to spite them, at a moment when they're not even THERE to be annoyed by you doing it, and also, when you know it won't do anything but put you further behind on things and make you feel much worse. I need to snap out of it, and actually do the things I had planned to do this week. And I need to not be a bitch.

So far it's going okay, but it's more in the sense that I'm just not saying anything of substance. I take a really long time to respond to even simple questions from Crash if he annoys me even slightly, forcing him to stare at me blankly and worry that he's done something, when really it's just my brain trying to figure it all out. It feels like my filters need cleaning. I can't make sense of what's rude and what's the truth.

There's probably a name for this feeling, some long psychological name for the feeling you have after you go back to that place you don't like to go, a place you can't avoid since it's just this part of your life, but whenever you go there you become useless for a while. You try really hard to fight it, but it mostly just fights you.. Whatever it is, I hate it, I want to get stabby on it with a spork. I try to push past it, but as soon as I set about trying to figure out something else to think about or do, it weasels its way back in because it's sneaky like that, and of course, it's just next door to my current situation anyway. Meh.

Vagueness. Sorry about the vagueness.. Yeah, my mom used to really rip into me about house stuffs, and cleaning, since her coping skills don't include other people's messes. Maybe she wasn't the same old same old while she was here, but without Crash here to tell her to back off, she missed no opportunities to tell me in as tense a tone as possible how AWFUL everything was, and ask me pointedly how I could let this continue.. When I am trying to get over my own need for instant gratification, her putting it all on me really doesn't help at all. At. All. It's a big pile for one person, even for 2 people.

And so yeah, I have a big fridge full of beer, and no will to keep myself away from it, or anything else that would keep me away from the tasks I set for myself.. Even just thinking about my stuff starts to bring it all up again. I hate me, I hate her, I hate my stuff, I hate everything. Did I mention I hate myself? I do. A lot. We've passed dislike with the tires squealing, and gone straight to eat-a-whole-pie hell..

But I am trying. Seriously. I know, I sound awful, but inside there is at least that little part of me that allowed me to write this post instead of just sit there. I'm aware of it, and I've finally also said it out loud, which means I can also fight it. I will do this. I'm a grown up, I can put my head in its place, and touch my stuff, and if I have to scream a little it's okay because no one is here. If I have to stop a little I can because no one will tell me I suck if I do. I don't have to get upset and smash things. It will get done, it will take time, but I will do it and it will be done. I don't really have a problem at all, she does, and it would serve me well to try to remember that above all. Just the reflexes are still there. Thankfully I am out of pie.

Comments

[mz-pickles.livejournal.com]

There's probably a name for this feeling, some long psychological name for the feeling you have after you go back to that place you don't like to go, a place you can't avoid since it's just this part of your life, but whenever you go there you become useless for a while.
The name is FAMILY.
And no matter how grown-up you think you are, and how together you feel, your family has this strange way of reducing you to a child again, or worse...a teenager. You feel like Your Way suddenly isn't good enough, that it's the Wrong Way, which is especially hurtful when you're being told these things within your own home.
Trust me, I feel your pain.
And to be honest, I don't think it ever goes away.
God, this is a super negi comment.

[hippybngstockng.livejournal.com]

Ah, negi, but at the same time reminds me that I'm not less of a person if I can't eventually get over it, because you're absolutely right! It's biologically impossible to avoid it!

[djinnthespazz.livejournal.com]

Alcohol is bad. Alcohol will make you feel worse, and make you want more alcohol.

So know all of that feeling, tho. My mom is better than that. She does actually help when she comes over to help. But it's hard to be a clutter bug and deal with yourself.

Stuck in the middle of that today, I am.

[hippybngstockng.livejournal.com]

Boy howdy is that also true.

On the one hand I want to love my stuff because there's a lot in this mess I could be proud of, if I could see it through the other half of the mess I need to get moving through. She would be my first logical choice in helping me, from the point of view that 2/3 of this stuff came from her in one way or another, so she certainly knows what's worth keeping or not. We can talk about it when she's not here, but whenever we try to work together it turns into disaster. In the end I can only feel like it's my fault for taking it all in the first place.

And no worries about me and the beer, since fortunately I can't ever seem to get to the point where I would want more alcohol if I drink. My stomach and alcohol have a really unfortunate time trying to deal with each other. I can only manage to drink small amounts regularly, or heavily very occasionally, but that's about it. After 2 days it can't cope and I am left not just sad, but terribly ill. Especially from beer. So it's all bluster, no muster.. The one positive I have to inheriting my mom's digestive system in addition to my dad's addictive tendencies. Beer is the last thing I will ever become addicted to. Other booze being second to last.. ;)

all bluster, no muster..

[djinnthespazz.livejournal.com]

Good to know!

[cmariewt.livejournal.com]

Maybe you do sound awful to some people, but not to me. For some reason, those we share blood with, make it easiest to hate ourselves. The only person on this earth that has the power to reduce me to a self hating, worthless waste of human life, is my mom. Whether it's intentional or not, I am never "enough". Ever. I can cure AIDS, cancer, and create world peace in one week. She'd ask why I couldn't find the time to vacuum in all that. Then proceed to tell me how B will leave me if I can't at least do that.

that little part of me that allowed me to write this post instead of just sit there

That's the important part. You aren't wallowing in it, going OH WOES ME! You are addressing your issue, and that alone makes you a bigger person than most others. In the words of my mother "Chins up!". I shit you not she uses a plural chinS. And wonders why I had issues with my weight for years...

I admire you and think you're great. What more do you need?! That alone damn near makes you famous! ;P

P.S.

[cmariewt.livejournal.com]

I can guaran-fucking-tee, your pack rat habits have nothing on my mom's! That woman is insane with it!