Yesterday, my parents went to the grocery store. I had to tell my mom several times (in the last week) that I couldn’t go, especially since the week before had led to me getting sick. Well, she (and my dad) expected me to go and my dad to stay home. Then, she wanted a list, because she says that they forget what stuff I’ll eat. So, I made a list. My list was no longer than any list that she’d ever made during her year off of grocery shopping. In fact, I would say it was shorter. Well, they ended up spending $450 and the first thing she said when she got home was that it was all on stuff for me. I know that that isn’t true, but it still wasn’t very comforting to have her say it.
Fast forward to today, and I’m looking for the remote for the Blu-Ray player. It was in one spot, where it shouldn’t have been easy to knock off, but it wasn’t there. I started getting frustrated, which happens more when I already feel like crap, and she started suggesting places to look–places that she could tell from her perch on the couch that I had already looked. I got more upset and snapped at her, and she just kept nagging. So, I said something else. About fifteen minutes later, she checked her blood pressure and it was high. Then, it became my fault that her blood pressure was high and that she was now in a lot of pain.
I will admit that maybe my snapping was out of turn, but do I honestly have to be blamed for everything? The following are things I get blamed for:
- My parents having to buy groceries for me for the first 20 years of my life.
- My mom’s pain
- Things getting lost
- Things getting broken
- People not being able to get enough sleep
- Things not getting fixed
- My parents having no money
- My parents having health issues
- The grass not getting mowed, even though I constantly get told that the house doesn’t belong to me
- The house being messy
- Their psychiatric issues
- Their stress
- Their anger
- Their attitudes
- Any possible future suicide attempts by either one of them
Now, I’m expected to take the blame with a smile and a perky attitude. I am not allowed to get upset. If I get upset, then I’m told how ungrateful I am. If I were to blame anything on them that was actually their fault, then I would have to hear about all of my failings and they would never cop to their own part in anything.
Oh, and I’ve been putting up with his anger and her bouts of crying/blaming/nagging on a pretty much constant basis for a while now. I will have to deal with them being so upset until the days start getting longer or they start being honest with their own psychiatric care people.
And if you’re going to tell me that I’m overreacting or that I whine too much, keep in mind that I am allowed to and that I haven’t had full doses of antidepressants in my system for a while, so I’m going through a withdrawal that makes me angry, hurt, and sick.