Who came over unexpectedly last night at 11pm with boxes and buckets of frozen fish and crabs.
Today she returned from the Korean store with, according to her, 600 dollars worth of stuff, including 20 packs of garlic, about 50 lbs of rice, and a pressure cooker…”all for me.”
I know how ungrateful I sound.
I hate waste. I hate clutter. I hate throwing away food.
I balk at my mother’s purchases and ask her to return the pressure cooker, and the conversation becomes, “I won’t visit you anymore. You just want to eat TV dinners.” Victim mentality. Martyr response immediately. As always. We have never been able to have any conversations about my mother’s accountability or making changes. Never. I remember thinking this through the years; there is no room for discussion. And I am left having to care for my mother and her feelings. As always.
She is obsessed with things:
“Where is that lamp I gave you?”
“You aren’t going to give this pressure cooker away, are you?”
I couldn’t invite my friends to our house when I was growing up, because it was messy and dirty. I have always had to tend to my mother and her mania, and I see now this behavior has not developed over time; it has always been there. I can think of so many examples of my mother doing this, bringing 30 bags of groceries in, cooking food that will go to waste. Why does this still trigger me?
And why do I have to feel guilt?
I had a few hours this evening to do what I wanted to do, e.g., refinance my house, call a friend. But now it is 9:30, because I spent an hour cleaning up after my mother and actioning the hoard of groceries. I feel in chaos.
Why do I repeat the same pattern of no boundaries with my mother? I want to cry right now.
Her presence sets me on edge. I felt it when she cane over last night; the chaos that starts when she arrives with all of her things. I retreat. I don’t look her in the eyes or see her, because I am in some place of trying to control my environment. And I feel bad about that.
I know I need to change my mindset and response before my mother dies, or I will regret it.
I started to vent to my FB gf group from Friday nights, and one gal side-barred, “oh, that’s tough, let me tell you about a text from a boy.” I stopped sharing.
Steve’s response to me saying I felt like crying was to ask if my mom was staying through the weekend, not to ask if I’m ok.
I guess my Higher Power is giving me signs I need to learn to regulate my own emotions, and maybe Steve is not the emotional support I need.
I am grateful Jerry Carter called to check in on me today. I know that wasn’t random. Thank you, God.
I feel a little better now. Still sad about the loss of this evening. Gratitude helps. I am going to go drink a glass of wine and read a book and take a bath.