missmaribelmaeve

I have finally reached the end of the man candy road. I can’t take anymore. Not one single more first meeting, filled with fake interest in what I think or feel. Can’t take another false hope or future faker. I am sure that somewhere in this mix of ridiculosity, I am partially at fault. There is no way that one girl could attract so many personality-disordered men without some sort of secret beacon sending out the message: “I am here and willing to tolerate the absurd.” Today was the very end of that era. I took down my dating site profile and have resolved to work on myself.  

Have you ever noticed that life imitates those “coming of age” movies? It’s like you look back and some of what you planned is exactly where you are, but so much is not at all what you dreamed of. I want…

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The Abyss

I have not written much because I have tried to keep my distance from Mama. Last night, she came to my house to make sure I didn’t kill myself. I never said I was…but she knows me well enough to know when I have had enough. She arrived, in full drama mode, with frantic phone calls to my brother. (Side note: I have 2 brothers and don’t speak to either. ) My brother comes in stating that he can’t hold his tongue and thinks it’s stupid that I would be so upset over work crap. Mama says she thinks I need a psych hospital because I am crying so much. Also, she is going on and on about me being on “too much medication.”  Here’s the kicker: I stopped taking a VERY low dose of an antidepressant about a month ago. 4 weeks later, here I am a crying mess over being chewed out and written up at work. Hmmmm. Something tells me that I needed that antidepressant due to all my stress. My Mom goes into her usual speech about me changing in the past 3 years. So, I go into my routine rebuttal that being married to a Narcissist for 11 years tends to do that. Especially when my Borderline Mom and asshole family decided to believe his lies about me. Then, my bipolar sister-in-law and her crazy ass Mom decide to add to the lies by accusing me of calling her step-father.  It gets even better: they all took his side, until he hasn’t paid a dime for his kids. Then, they admitted he is a jerk, but didn’t support me. The betrayal that I have felt with my entire family and friends abandoning me at the point where my life is falling apart is indescribable. To add to this pain, I found texts where my Mom and sister in law are talking about how crazy I am. My Mom had written her prose “To my beautiful, loving daughter in law: Thank you for having my grandchildren. I love you more than anything.” Etc. There were many of these texts, including a Christmas text written as I lay in my bed asleep on tranquilizers after being told I am worthless. I can’t describe this kind of pain. Unbearable. Unforgivable. Unforgettable.

Revival of the Unholy Spirit

Finally, I was forced to interact with The Motha aka Mama. I have avoided her since the Christmas drama (and no I don’t refer to the church play). It was the baby’s birthday and I have never had him a REAL party. So, I earned a few hundred dollars and was able to give him a Fro-Yo party. Mama was not consulted at all about the party, but I did send her an evite. The day before the event, she calls to ask who was coming and what did I plan on doing. I mean, with me being a complete idiot, I bet I couldn’t figure out how to let the Fro-Yo girlies show everyone how to dispense their frozen yogurt and add their own toppings. The party was fun but awkward in that Mama did not attempt to interact with  my two friends who attended. (There was a total of  8 people there and 2 kids other than mine.) Mama would never act like that with anyone else, but because they are my friends, she happens to think they are worthless and unworthy of common courtesy. The sad part is her complete lack of insight into her own behavior. But just like a crap cupcake with sprinkles, Mama keeps serving up what no one would possibly be able to digest.

Birthday-isms a la Mama:

“Malingan, Micnlanga, Michigan, you are really pretty. I am sorry I never can get y’all’s names right.” (Yep, you guessed it…my friend is black and her name is beautiful! Malana. Really? How difficult is that? I swear, Mama is the ultimate ignorant Cracker Attacker. UGH.)

“You have done a wonderful job with those kids. They just have the best manners. You can really tell when a Mother truly enjoys teaching her children good manners.” (An obvious jab at me and makes me wonder what that says about my Grandma…)

After the party Mama insists on coming to the house so that she can organize the baby’s toys from Christmas. She has bought 10-15 boxes to store things in and is on a mission to organize me away. Haha. We are sitting in the floor of the playroom, helping the baby with his trains when I askhim if he loved his train cake. The baby hugged me and kissed me and said it was the best cake ever. Mama looks at me in that moment and says “Where’s the $1000.00 you owe me for the house payment?” Ok the house is a whole other blog, but the short version is that we own the house together. After my divorce, I could no longer afford it because my entire salary per month wouldn’t cover it. I have offered to move out so they could rent it, I have offered to sell it, I have offered everything I can thin k of to help. Nothing changes the fact that until i finally get some child support, I can’t afford it.

It gets worse. In order to earn extra money, I have been working in a job that is well, demoralizing, to put it politely. I have to travel with men (usually older) and go with them to events and they give me gifts. I will allow your imagination to fill in the blanks. Mama knows about these trips. She also knows that the last one paid for the party. How sad that my own Mother thinks it’s okay to ask for money that she knows I earned in a difficult situation (We are talking all day, all night for an entire weekend you are entertaining, talking to, dining with etc someone you may or may not even like.)  So she starts screaming about how I need to be paying for myself and I am screaming back that I am doing everything I can working 2 jobs, but that my entire check wouldn’t cover the house payment. I pay all of the other bills, but can’t cover that much, yet. The baby starts crying and I end up making her leave. In true Mama style, she stands in the front yard for 45 minutes waving to the baby through the window. I texted her and told her she ruins every special day and that I had worked hard for the money to give my baby a party. Mama came back in and played innocent…”I don’t know why you think it’s my fault.”

We need a renewal. A revival. Something to jolt her out of my immediate vicinity.

 

Christmas Nightmare

I have given it a day before posting the Christmas nightmare. Mama was up at 4 AM (she never needs sleep..like a Vampire.) The day started as terribly as Christmas Eve had been: “You don’t have any caffeinated coffee”. “I don’t know how you stand it so cold in here all of the time.”, “I had to be up at 4 so I could cook breakfast. These delightful conversation starters were followed by her not telling me that my baby was awake, so I missed him seeing his gifts for the first time (Mama: “I know how you love your sleep.) I wasn’t asleep, I was in my room avoiding criticism.

The kids had an amazing time and loved their gifts. I opened mine and oh my, what a disaster. Mama has this thing she does where she buys me clothes several sizes too big to imply that I am fat. (She is larger than me.) So everything she bought was an extra large or an XXL, even though I wear a medium. Mama also bought me orange clothes, which, she knows is a color that does not flatter my shade of red hair. I didn’t flinch. I just said “Thank you” and moved on. She bought me a camera, but not the one I asked for (which was inexpensive.) Mama: “Your brother says that consumer reports rated this one the best. And you have to keep it in a case, not just throw it around like you do everything else.”

We ate our breakfast casserole and my son complained that he wouldn’t be getting a real Christmas dinner. That’s when all Hell broke loose. My ex called and asked for the kids early because he was cooking at his girlfriend’s parents’ home. I thought it was a fabulous idea because it meant my kids had a chance for a normal Christmas Dinner. (My parents did not see it that way, at all.)

I don’t know what happened, but somewhere between the “You’re a piece of crap” messages, the fact my kids had to leave me to have a normal day and the stress of a holiday, I broke down. I told my parents it was time for them to go and I packed up all their food and put it in their car. I am proud of myself for being calm while Mama screamed and yelled. The baby hid under a pillow on the sofa and my oldest laid in the floor and cried. It was beyond disturbing to see my babies in such distress. I took a tranquilizer and went to bed to sleep for 5 hours. I have not spoken to them since that incident. My Dad keeps calling me, but I really don’t want to talk. I wish I had something funny to write or something funny to say, but being the family scape goat for passive-aggressive Moms just sucks. No sugar-coating that bitter pill. I told her to take her resentment to someone else on the next holiday, I want no part of it.

Christmas Eve..And I’m Out of Eggnog!

So, Mama announces that she and My Dad are coming to MY house to spend the night for Christmas Eve. Never asks if  I have plans. My Mama is angry in a passive aggressive way and has basically been ignoring me for weeks. I would say that our relationship is almost back to rock bottom again. I think it will never recover. So, Christmas Eve she is staying at my house and the plan was Christmas lunch at her house. 

Did someone say plan? Well, after being avoided all day, my son decides to take matters into his own hands. He gets on his bike and rides to my brother and White Trash Barbie’s house. My son discovers that my parents are there and not answering his calls. At 7:45 PM, Mama shows up asking why I didn’t cook her a dinner. (Earlier in the day, she told me she was bringing food.) Mama immediately starts bitching about dinner. I pointed out numerous times that I had cooked BBQ pork, mac-n-cheese and baked beans. This is when she informs me that she wanted a real Christmas meal because she was only cooking breakfast tomorrow. I can only assume that the change in attitude is related to her visit with my brother and WTB.

Mama is at my house 10 minutes and starts throwing away EVERYTHING IN THE FREEZER! I just went to Sam’s Wholesale, but never you mind that pesky fact. Bronze Goddess is angry and needs control, so today it is the freezer. I have lots of new Mama-isms that I kept special for y’all…as a gift of sorts:

Mama : “This freezer is disgusting, I can tell you have just totally let it go for months or longer.”

SJ: Ok. Well (my ex-boyfriend) and I just cleaned it out.

Mama: (To my 2 year old son…after I told him he can’t dig in the freezer anymore) “I am going to put all the food you are looking for in the front so you don’t have to dig to feed yourself. I know you have to find your own food a lot.”

SJ: The food in the freezer is raw, I hardly think it’s appropriate to put raw meat where he will eat it.”

At this point I went to my room and got on the phone until the kids were asleep so I could do the Santa thing. I finally got all of the gifts arranged and came out to find she had put all of her gifts in front of the Santa gifts. Oh dear. The little things to a Narcissist are like the himalayas. Let HER climb that mountain. I am exhausted.

I’m Dreaming of a White *Trash* Christmas…

It’s kinda bizarre how both of my brothers married women who are…well…bitches. They are different kinds of bitches, but both seem to be fueled by drama of some sort. White Trash Barbie is what I call one of them: She has white blonde hair that she insists is natural. WTB and I were great friends for about 3 months. My Mama does this dance where she wants us to be friends, then became jealous of our friendship, then split us apart by telling her that I am a “bad influence”.  Mama’s “shove people together, then rip them apart” dance.

I should digress and explain that I have  Narcissist ex-husband (Clinically, not just a term I am tossing around casually.) Before we divorced, he told my entire small town that I was a crack-whore. What he meant by “crack” is that he thought I was addicted to my computer, that I used to avoid him. What he meant by “whore” is that I no longer wanted to have sex with him (for the last several years of our marriage). He failed to clear up these code words with the Town, so it is commonly thought that I am indeed a literal crack-whore. (The fattest crack whore in history, may I add!)

So, White Trash Barbie decided to kick me while I am down because she wants my parents’ money and attention. She and I had an email- text- war a month ago and haven’t spoken at all since she initiated a fight by telling me I am worthless. 

Fast forward to Thursday night, my son’s first Christmas pageant and also my nephew’s Christmas pageant. Ultimately it was White Trash Barbie’s White Trash Christmas Pageant. (Who knew?!)  I am standing in the hallway of the daycare with 200 parents and children seated and eating a celebratory dinner. I have my 9 month old niece in my arms, when suddenly I am tackled from behind. Surprise! WTB has run into me and thank GOD I didn’t actually fall (wearing high heels) with the baby in my grip! My neck is injured, but other than that, it’s fine.  WTB takes the opportunity to snatch the baby and start screaming at me (in front of everyone in my son’s daycare) that I am a liar and a bitch. She orders me to leave and I refuse. Eventually she goes to her car as I try to get my kids to hurry up and leave. My brother was silent and followed her outside to leave.

Mama Drama Warning: I call my Mama to ask her to keep my oldest son who is being rude because he’s embarrassed and angry. Mama lies to me and tells me she is at home. I inform her I am in her driveway. She then says she is in a restaurant, and I call her bluff. I am in tears, telling her how humiliating that was for my children and she interrupts:

Mama: Can I talk to you later I have to go?

SJ: What?! I am in the middle of a story and I need you to listen.

M: I heard it. You got in a fight because y’all can’t get along and now there won’t be Christmas.

SJ: Huh?!

M: I gotta go check on your brother. I am at his house and he is devastated by what you have done.

SJ: You suck as a Mom. (hanging up.)

Ring Ring.

SJ: Hello

Dad: I am at your house and we need to figure out how you can fix this so your Mother can have one of those Christmas cards like Becky sent out.

SJ: What card?

Dad: The one with all of the kids and grandkids together.

SJ: I gotta go because my neck hurts and I need to take a tranquilizer.

I came home to a lecture about how selfish I am and how I don’t care about people. Merry Christmas, Me.  Poor kids having to deal with all this shizzle.  

Christmas Train-ride to Hell

I decided to invite my parents to go with me and my kids on a Santa Train ride. I INVITED them to go on Saturday night. My Mom informs me that they have a “very important social event…So and So’s Winter Wonderland Wedding…to attend” but they can go Sunday. I have plans for Sunday night with my (reunited) boyfriend, so I plan on Sunday afternoon.

Sunday Morning Phone call to Mama:

SJ: Hey so I am planning on going at !:30, so we will meet at your house.

M: Oh. (Sigh.) I thjought we were going when we could see things.

SJ: What? We can’t see at 2:00?

M: Well, we can see some things, but we will miss all the lights.

SJ: I have plans tonight, but it’s kinda grey, so I think it will be fine. Besides, I planned to go LAST night.

Fast forward 4 hours:

M: It’s too bad we can’t see the lights from this train.

The baby: I see lights! They’re pretty.

1 Hour later on the train ride back from Santa’s Village:

M: Look at these lights, they are gorgeous! (It’s dark now.) Just imagine what the ride in would have looked like.

SJ: Ummm I can see the other side because we are just across a lake, in fact, the words over there are turned so we see them here.

M: I feel like I missed half the fun.

SJ: (Internal thought) I feel like I missed ALL of the fun. LOL 🙂

Upon Arrival at the Station where we find out there is a 2.5 hour wait to ride the train:

Dad: Look at all these people

M: I heard the lady say there were 200 girl scouts!

D: It’s packed.

M: I am SO glad I decided we should come when we did. This would have been miserable at night!

*GONG!!!!*  

Oh dear. I hope y’all enjoy these exchanges as much as I enjoy sharing them! I have to admit that instead of getting really irritated, I found myself thinking: Hey this is great for my blog!

Keep giggling!

❤ Jilly

 

Well, How Nice

So I  had to break the news to Mama that I broke up with my boyfriend. She HATES break ups and considers even the laziest serial killer to be a perfect match for me. (What I mean by lazy serial killer, is I don’t think it would bother her if he had a few body parts hanging out of the back of his truck. Or like maybe he forgot to chop up the body.) Anyway, I digress… So I tried a new tactic and said well I would tell you what happened since you asked, but I doubt you would understand. She immediately is trying to understand now…she is so oppositional she can’t help herself.  So I tell her the story and she is silent. I say, “Well I figured you wouldn’t get it.” And Mama says (drumroll please….) ” I get it that you think he is not the one for you. But its a shame because hes so good-looking and makes good money.” That’s right, Ladies and Gents, never-you-mind how he treats me. The important things in life are looks and money.

Reminds me of a joke about a Southern Belle :

SB1: Hey I came over to show you this beautiful bracelet my Daddy gave me. He taught me how to pick out the finest diamonds.

SB2: *Rocking on the front porch and fanning herself* Well, how nice.

SB1: And look at that gorgeous new mercedes he bought me! My Daddy spoils me. he taught me how to drive that car just like a race car driver.

SB2: Well, how nice.

SB1: So what did your Daddy teach you?

SB2: My Daddy taught me good manners and especially how to say “Well, how nice.” when you really want to say “Fuck You.”

Apparently. I deserve whoever I can get no matter how they treat me as long as they are gorgeous and rich.

Well, how nice.

Decorating the world with Drama

So not much going on lately because I am in the “ice zone” with my BPD narcissistic Mama. Sunday, she came over and watched my Dad put up a decoration that she removed from my house a year ago. Mama had a really odd reaction to my divorce. She came to my house every day for 3 weeks and hauled off a truckload a day of what she considered to be “crap.” Apparently, I am too lazy to get anything done. This cleaning included removing a gorgeous arbor my Dad made for me when I bought my house. I nearly cried when I saw it was gone. Not only was my marriage gone, but thanks to Mama, half my stuff was gone and everything was moved or redecorated to her specifications. I never said a word and chose to just accept that she was “cleaning up” my trashy existence. (in suburbia, mind you…) Anyway, Sunday she attempted to have Dad make my Arbor smaller. She also declared that there could be no decorations other than the ribbon she put on it. I wonder how it feels to think you have control over the universe. Probably very unsettling when you realize that you don’t.

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Whomp! Hair it is!

My shower and sinks have been backing up and overflowing for seven months. I still have an ex-husband who doesn’t pay child support, so I can’t afford a plumber. My garbage disposal no longer works due to whatever is causing the plumbing issues. My Dad came over, looked at it and announced that he didn’t know what the problem is, but that a disposal is a luxury that a single Mom doesn’t really need. {Huh?!} So, for 7 months I have had leaves, dirt, bugs and random items come up through ALL of my drains and fill the bathtubs, shower and sinks. READ: A big ol’mess!  My boyfriend has been coming over and helping me repair things that have been ignored by my family. So, in true form…I come home to see a bottle of liquid plumber-like stuff on the kitchen cabinet. My family only comes to help if there is a threat of being embarasssed publically. So, for my boyfriend to notice that they are enjoying me living at a lesser standard than they are…. is…. well…..embarassing. Therefore, the sudden repair effort.  

Mama’s phone call:

Scenario: She HATES my hair. She likes it short, I like it long. This is a battle that originated in the 3rd grade when my Dad made the fatal mistake of mentioning how beautiful my hair was long. Within hours, it was barely a couple of inches off my scalp. Mama has to be the center of beauty in the world.

Message: Your Hair is awful and so are you

Mama: “Hey your Dad and your brother came over to fix your plumbing problem. It’s your hair. They cleaned out the drains, but it was ALL your hair. You know how long your hair is and it all falls out everywhere. They won’t be able to fix your disposal, so I guess you can blame your hair on that.”

Me: “Ok well tell them thanks.”

Mama: “Were you asleep?!”

Me: “Yeah, when the DR. increased my medicine, it made me sleepy.”

Mama: “I don’t know how you take all that medicine. I would cut back on that if I were you.”

Me: “Well, YOUR  Dr is the one who prescribed it. I am not taking a lot of medication. (?!) I am not sure what you mean by that.”

Mama: “Well let me let you go back to your usual afternoon nap. I know how all your medicine makes you sleepy. I guess your hair has ruined your plumbing. Thank goodness your Dad and your brother can get stuff like that cleaned out.”

Commentary: Oh geez, I can’t imagine life without a perfect Dad and Brother. Also, note to self: Check on how my hair effects the economy and global warming and gays.