Just…Leave…Me…ALONE!
I wonder how many times a minute I want to scream it these days. It would feel so freeing, to just tell everyone bugging the crap out of me to LEAVE ME ALONE! I want quiet. I want my thoughts to myself. I’m tired of answering the same questions every day: Where are you going? What are you doing? When are you going to–? Can you go and–? Well, when are you going to do it?
Maybe if it were my children, my husband, or even my employer asking me some of these questions, it wouldn’t bother me so much…but…of all people…it’s my mother.
In case none of my other posts have made this clear (or you’re one of the nosy people reading this who doesn’t actually know me), I’m a grown woman in my 30s. I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions, and most of them are actually quite good. Yes, sometimes my mind tends to wander, but I have enough impulse control and common sense not to act on those things. So why does this woman feel the need to control every aspect of my life these days? Even the way I’ve chosen to raise my children is under attack. My husband can do no wrong in her eyes. I have two younger sisters on whom she could lavish some of this attention, but she chooses not to…so why ME??
I guess I should mention she and my father live with me, my husband, and children. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. I’ve asked for it by living in the same home as my parents. Well, let me point out that sharing space with someone doesn’t mean you are obligated to share everything with them. Anyone who has ever had a roommate (especially in a college dorm) can attest to that. And don’t give me this “it’s your mother, she loves you” crap. It’s about control. It’s about her wanting to run every aspect of my life. It’s about her not respecting the fact that I am a capable adult with a life.
Know why my mind wanders? It’s because I feel trapped and want out. I feel as if I’m being backed into a corner with no chance of escape. I can’t even go into the bathroom without hearing her voice trailing after me, asking me where I’m going!
On one hand, it can’t be easy to be in poor health (mental and physical). About two months ago she had to quit working and is now on disability due to various issues. She’s recovering from another cervical spine surgery. She’s young, too, only 54. Even when her health was better, all she wanted to do was stay at home in her room. She’s never been the type to get involved in anything…other than her children’s business or my father’s.
I definitely sound resentful. Resentful rambling. Quite productive. I AM resentful. According to at least one of her doctors, the main reason she is in the shape she is in today has to do with poor choices she has made. Her diet, continuing to smoke even after being told to quit (especially in light of the types of surgeries she has had), not following through with other recommendations made by physicians regarding medications, taking far too many narcotics and other types of prescription pain relievers…I could go on.
If only it were physical issues we were dealing with. There are mental and emotional, as well. I won’t bore you with the details. It’s enough knowing she suffers from severe depression and anxiety.
Why am I angry? Why can’t I bring myself to feel or at least attempt to show some compassion? I think it’s because I can’t understand why she would rather do everything in her power to find someone else to blame for her condition, rather than concentrating on doing what is within her control to make things better for herself. She’s finally in a place where she has nothing else she has to do…no job to tie her down, no children she has to raise. Why can’t she work on her issues and work toward getting better instead of sitting in this house day after day? There are days when I swear I can actually hear glee in her voice as she’s telling me what’s wrong with her and how she feels so sick…yet she’s able to keep yammering after me like a demented Energizer Bunny twin limping around the house.
I know…that was mean. And one of these days I’m going to feel horrible about having written this. But today is not that day.
Sigh…maybe if I can stay angry long enough, I won’t have to deal with the pain, frustration, helplessness, and guilt (yes, guilt) I feel about not being able to help her understand she still has so much to live for. And the guilt and frustration I feel about not being able to put my arms around her and give her the comfort I know she desperately needs, even though she isn’t able to ask for it in any other way than nagging me to death. I’m simply not able to do it.
Frigid and unyielding…that’s me. I just want to be left alone.
