|
My mother showed up this afternoon. In-Home Supportive Services wasn't doing its job, so I asked my mother to sign up to be my caretaker while I'm on the mend from surgery. I figured if she were on the payroll of the county, she might not play the martyr card.
I've been in a lot of pain the past few weeks and it's only just let up a little the past couple of days. Yesterday was almost pain-free, but last night I pulled a muscle in my neck and I'm hurting a bit today.
Today my mother came in complaining about my brother's fourteen-year-old (soon-to-be) step-daughter, "Serena," saying that if she were the girl's mother she would either 1) kill her, or 2) take away all her privileges and make her earn them back through hard work. She said she didn't care whether or not she ever saw the girl again.
I didn't want to hear it. The kid isn't my responsibility; nor is she my mother's.
A couple of weeks ago, my mother raised my bed so she could store boxes underneath. When she was still on her Serena tirade, I mentioned that I wasn't sure I liked the arrangement because I couldn't easily retrieve things that fell down the side. She said, "It can't be that hard." I said, "For me, it is." And it is. It usually causes headaches and throbbing in my neck if I bend over for too long.
Her answer: "OK, Serena."
:wtf:
I told her she was projecting, then realized I felt so humiliated and furious, I dare not trust myself to say another word. I went to bed, closed my eyes and didn't answer anything she said.
I have to put up with her because I still can't make it on my own, dammit. Between the right-wing/fundy talking points and the humiliation, I'm having a really hard time putting up with her. At the same time, I love her very much. That's why the schism kills me. And of course, she'll never in a million years apologize.
Yes, I know I can't do anything to change her. The only thing I can do is work on how I respond and this time, I honestly didn't know what to do besides feign sleep. I couldn't even have a good cry until after she left.
If I confront her, she'll play the martyr card: "How dare you speak to me after all I've done for you..." You know how the speech goes. She's even complained about money she's spent on me, making me feel lower than worm slime. If help isn't freely given, why am I accepting it? Because I have to.
|