The Five Strands of A Sedentary Empress

Familia

A couple days ago, I believe I wrote about making sure you respect your parents. I meant it, completely, but as I also wrote, my mother is a bit of an ass.

About three hours after writing that entry, my mother called to update me on my aunt's medical condition. My aunt had had chest pains at work and her manager insisted that she go to the hospital, by ambulance, just in case it was a heart attack, not aware that my aunt has a myriad of problems not the least of which are imaginary. Anyway, I'd been the one to inform my mother who received the news as though I'd just told she'd missed a really super episode of 'Regis and Kelly, Live!'. There was no immediate concern, no battery of questions (I had very few answers, my cousin had told me through IM'ing on Facebook and since my cousin and I rarely communicate, it was stiff and to the point), just a kind of foggy conversation about how it was likely nothing, that my aunt has a 'talent' for drama (hello pot? this is the kettle) and that she was sure it was just an anxiety attack. Slightly surprised at her lack of interest, I bid farewell and hung up.

After several phonecalls back and forth, each one initiated by mother who is now beginning to like the melodrama surrounding everything, mostly because she's the one who is spreading it now, I ended up having a long conversation with her about her own issues. It isn't natural, I said, to be almost excited about someone's health issues. She was angry about that, stating that this involves her 'only sister, the last of the family she has left!'. Still, I countered, you didn't care much when you first heard something was up, and you rarely visit her, or call for that matter. She argued and shrilled on her end of the phone, and then I eventually realized that I was getting more out of it than she was, because I was purging my frustration and she was only getting ready for combat. I let it go. Then, we discussed my mother's shopping habits, the fact that she is always buying something useless and stupid just to satisfy a nagging need to give her money away. I told her that it isn't healthy, that it's indicative of a deeper problem. She told me that she doesn't 'do that anymore'. Okay, I said calmly, but I was there three weeks ago and your place was filled with new knick-knacks, so I don't think you can fairly claim that this is a past habit. She told me not to start on her, and I said I really wasn't, but that she's depressed about money at the moment and it's kind of obvious that she'd have more if she didn't spend so much on needless things. I shop when I'm depressed, she shrieked. Oh. So then, you've been depressed for thirty-seven years? Yes!, she shrieked again. Have you done anything about it? No! What the hell can ya do about it? Umm...actually, there's a good lot you can do, and feeling sorry for yourself and expecting everyone around you to just deal with it because you're depressed is probably just selfishness and overall bad form. Get off your ass.

That may have been harsh. But, for the record, my mother seems to choose her moods in order to accommodate any passing whim. My friend C. thinks my mother is bipolar, but I'm sorry, I sort feel like that particular 'ailment' is really over-diagnosed, the label du jour. No, I'm going with spoiled brat.

I could run circles around you, she hissed. I stifled a giggle. The woman is ridiculous.

I just think that if you want more money, you should look for something full-time. Your skill set is in high demand right now, and until dad finds something steady you could do it to cover the bills, that's all. It would get you out of the house more, and you'd be less focused on feeling bad. It would be a good thing!

I don't want to talk about this, anymore. You seem to take great pleasure in putting me down.

I...what?

So, I left it alone, but not after I asked her if she realizes that when speaks to people that they actually have brains, that we're on to her. Don't try to snow me with all your circular talk, I'd said, I'm on to you. That may have come off as kind of confrontational, but if you knew my mother, you'd realize that she thinks everyone else is stupid, that she can convince you of her rightness because there's no way you can decipher her code. When she acted like she didn't understand what I was saying, I let it go. It's not like it affects me, anyway.

So, today, my sister P. tells me that my mother called her yesterday to basically 'trash talk' me. About what? She apparently told my sister that it was kind of funny that I was giving her a lecture about not working when I'm not even working either!. What a..., I started. Total douche-bag, she finished. I went on a small tirade about how I'd worked for twenty years before this past one, that I've always paid half of the bills, covered my expenses with no help from anyone else. I raged about how all the money which had been saved for my education was lost when my mother insisted on a bigger house right when a recession hit, how my father lost everything, including my education fund, and how I wasn't able to afford school full-time back when I actually wanted to go. My mother never worked through any of that, and it was me who bought the food for the household, working at my bakery job, while she lay in bed crying about what a mess her life had become. I remember it now, and I know it serves no purpose. My mother has likely re-written that chapter of her life, and it won't include her turtle ways or the money I gave. My sister reassured me, told me I don't have to apologize for wanting to spend time with my daughter, especially when I paid my share of things, which my mother has never done. It still hurt, though. My mother will always find a way to make herself feel better through crying the faults in her daughters. It's sick, but it's her.

Turns out that my aunt (getting back to my original train of thought) has something called pericarditis, an inflammation in the sac around the heart, but it's not going to kill her, which is good. Then, today, on the day she was meant to be discharged, the doctors inform her that they found 'something' on her lung, that they need to keep her in to do a biopsy. My cousin called my mother to tell her this. What do you think my everloving mother said?

Oh, well, that's just great! It's no wonder with all that second-hand smoke from your father! My sister never smoked a day in her life and this is the thanks she gets? Your father is responsible for this!

Nevermind that no one actually knows this is cancer. Nevermind that you're speaking to her frightened daughter who is trying to be positive. Nevermind that her father died an agonizingly painful death some years ago from a rapidly spreading cancer and that she still hasn't gotten over it. No, go ahead and start blaming, start issuing death sentences, because that's what you're good for. What was it my sister so charmingly referred to her as? Douche-bag? Sounds good.

And what I am the most angry about right now is that I've let her get to me. Again. I have a horrible, mean-spirited, toxic mother, one who has managed to instill a sense of dependency in me, so that I need her venom in order to find a reason to bare my own fangs. It's a very dysfunctional situation, except, I wonder if it's more common than I realize.

But, I live here, far away, and I don't have to see her. Turning her off is as simple as putting the receiver back into the cradle, now. When she decides to morph back into some semblance of her sweeter self then we'll talk, because I need to show my own daughter that respect, though sometimes painful, is very often necessary. The thing is, though, that it should go both ways.

I haven't decided whether or not to confront the woman, but I probably won't. I'm not sure she is capable of understanding any of it, and all it will do will start a big conflict between her and my sister for telling me. What good will that do? Only a gullible person would think that talking it out with her will do any good, anyway. She's essentially done for enlightenment.

I still think you need to have manners and respect for your parents, but I don't believe you are under any obligation to like them.