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.
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.
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.
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.
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.)
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.