I finally called my mother and told her about my back. She was REALLY mad that I waited to tell her. I confess that I didn't even tell her the whole story. I told her that I fractured a vertebrae in my spine and went to the hospital for x-rays and other tests. All true. The problem with my mother is that she uses the my sick kid excuse to make people feel bad for her. I didn't want her coming up to the hospital because it would have stressed me out and I couldn't exactly handle anything else at the time. Her and the lady friend do not get along at all because my mother thinks I am being controlled. The reality of the situation is my mother doesn't understand that she is mentally ill. Any decisions I make are for what's best for me. I made the decision not to tell her until I was home. And I made the decision to minimize the situation not to shield her, but to make it a little easier for myself. My mother is an extremely selfish person who love me very much. She's childish, manipulitive, and the only parent I have. I love her unconditionally but I do have conditions to which I deal with her: On. My. Own. Terms.
I'm sorry if this sounds harsh. I was just on the phone with her for 2 hours. For the first 15 minutes she yelled at me, called the lady friend controlling, manipulative, and many other things that she is not. She dares to blame someone else for decisions I make. I told her that it was my decision not to tell her until "I knew more information." Like how I was going to deal with her. Do not blame someone else for something I did. She did apologize for yelling at me, but only because she thought I was in the hospital overnight for days and didn't tell her. Well, I was. And I didn't. And you know what, that doesn't make me a bad child. If anything you could say that I'm protecting her. Maybe I'm afraid she'll get sick again and be put back into the hospital.
No. I'm protecting myself. I knew I couldn't deal with her in the hospital. If anything I would have gotten sicker. And if I told her exactly how I felt, she would blame the lady friend. And it doesn't matter who you are or how you are connected to me. You could be Saint Anthony or Jesus Christ and my mother would blame you if I didn't do something or act in a way her sick mind thinks it should be.
My mother is clinically mentally ill. She likes to joke around about it. What she doesn't realize is that as she ages it's getting worse. She cycles through friends and will eventually find a reason to hate them. She dates men that are literally dregs of society and more mentally ill than her. A lot of her friends are also mentally ill. I always feel bad for the "normal" people she hangs around with because eventually she will fuck them over.
*sigh* But, for the next hour and forty five minutes she talked about her garden, her friends, her part time job, people I don't know, and finally I helped her log into her "professional" email address. You know, the one I made for her after I made her a resume so she could try to get a job. She's sending me the Rolling Stone magazine. Good. I wanted to read it.
Next time: It seems Friday before the seizure was completely erased from my memory. It was told to me and I was shocked.
