This week (up until Thursday afternoon) was awesome. It was really a busy one at work and I managed to meet my deadlines and work around a few glitches regarding a previous project I was dealing with. We made time for squash, cleaned one evening after work and had a spontaneous date night on Wednesday. I’ve been driving to work each morning and I even drove home once during peak hour traffic. Hubby had a work dinner one evening and I caught up with the ironing while he was out. I felt like a very well organised adult to be honest.
But yesterday afternoon, all it took was an e-mail from my mother to bring out the petulant, sulking child in me. My mother even worded the e-mail in a way that got my back up immediately. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” It was about my Dad’s family wanting to organise a get together next month. Hubby and I agreed to go but I told my mother (in case she thought we were available for get togethers involving her family in the future) that my Dad’s family were the only ones to send well wishes when hubby had his hectic skin procedure. She claims she never told them and one of my aunts is “in a very bad space”. Said aunt has been angry and “in a very bad space” for over 30 years. I doubt this is a new development. My mother had to add that she isn’t responsible for their behaviour. My mother just has the ability to raise my blood pressure with a single sentence. She justifies her families rudeness constantly with “I’m not responsible for their behaviour”. But then acts like the most wronged person on earth because my father-in-law didn’t greet her in a supermarket 3 years ago. It is exhausting.
But that is what you deal with when you have a mother like mine. And the frustration of having someone like this in your life is that the anger seeps into other areas and before you know it you are moaning at your husband for going to a work dinner and demanding he leaves the stupid Whatsapp group set up for his department and telling him you are pissed at his business travel plans and basically behaving like a total cow. And there is always that horrible sinking feeling that if your mother ever knew how you treated the one person who has only ever been good to you that she’d feel she’d won. Because for all her fake smiling at the world she is really a cold and emotionless vessel with nothing to actually offer other than being a doormat and behaving like a martyr.
I don’t ever want to end up like my mother – the thought of that possibility scares me so much. I just despise how at 33 she can still affect me with a bloody e-mail.