Do you ever feel like you have the same exact argument with the same people on a regular basis? Even if it isn’t daily, weekly, monthly, etc., does it seem like the same problems are hashed out? Does it seem like they never get fixed and that the only change is that they get worse?
I swear that in the past few (2 or 3) weeks, the same argument has taken place 4 or 5 times. My mom will get upset because I haven’t done something on her schedule and I am, therefore, punishing her. My dad will get upset because I “never do anything”, “eat all the time”, and “act hateful”. Because of these supposed infractions, he gets to tell me that he won’t ever help cook. (I can’t walk the dogs. I’ve tried walking, and somehow my inability to walk in our neighborhood [or anywhere else] constitutes a reason to say, imply, or insinuate in some way that I am lazy.). And I always seem to get blamed for his behavior. I don’t really get that. He said that he learned to be hateful from me, which is rather crazy. I’m fairly certain that he was hateful before me. I would bet that his hateful streak inspired him hitting my mom when I was a baby and I would bet that the anger that he holds has helped to inspire my temper. As for the eating all the time, he now counts any time that I go into the kitchen to get my mother food or to get myself water or to eat a cracker as “eating all the time”. All of the food is in the kitchen. I go in the kitchen between 6-10 times a day, 2-3 of those are related to cooking dinner. The rest are generally getting water for me and my mom or food for my mom. I don’t get it. Then, when I make a statement to him that I don’t appreciate being accused of eating too much all the time, he says that he didn’t say it. Apparently, “eating all the time” and “eating too much” are not the same. I guess that could be true, but it doesn’t seem like he’s implying a kinder statement.
He also said that I snap at the two of them, which is true. Generally, when I snap at them, it has to do with the two of them expecting something that they know (or knew) I couldn’t do. Apparently, he didn’t realize that I can’t walk down the sidewalks of this neighborhood. My mom didn’t realize it either. That was a bit amusing to me, since I told them almost every day and night that I would walk the dogs starting a few years ago. I reiterated it when I went out in the early morning to try to walk some, got 2 houses down, and had to come home because it felt like my ribs and back were breaking. Of course, since they don’t remember it, it didn’t happen. I swear, I need to start videoing my life so that I have proof that I tell them these things. I am so sick of being told that I’m not telling them things that I’ve told them for so long. I’m tempted to find out if they’re both suffering from some major form of dementia and, if they are, dump them at some home or at some other family member’s house. I am not becoming the caregiver of either of them if that happens. I went through enough of that when I was a kid. Going through it again, especially when I don’t feel well, is not something I could handle. I don’t care if they tell me I’m heartless. I don’t care if they say that I’m a bitch. I refuse to do certain things.