Idle Hands

I’m supposed to get my laptop fixed on Friday. For once in my life, I guess I’m going to have to treat Good Friday as if it actually is good. I hope that the technician is able to fix it, but I’m not going to assume that it will be that easy. Experience has taught me not to expect things to happen as quickly or easily as one would hope. That is especially true of repairs.

In the meantime, my dad is being nice about letting me have time on his computer. I guess he’s become accustomed to my laptop deciding to take a sabbatical. I guess that that makes sense.

My mom is being extremely difficult lately. I know that that has become the norm lately, but it seems like she is getting worse. And it seems like it is about the weirdest things.

When my dad and I came home from the emergency room on Wednesday, she decided that because I wasn’t admitted to the hospital, told what was wrong with my digestive system, and wasn’t dead that I was feeling well enough to be bossed around. She felt that it was appropriate to start having me get her things within five minutes of coming in. If she hadn’t just heard that I was anemic and that my blood pressure was low, then I could probably give her a break on that, but she’d heard both things and she just didn’t care. Actually, she seemed a bit pissed that I went to the hospital instead of her.

When my parents went to the grocery store last week, I had put chips and chocolate (in that order) on my list, which is normal. My dad understood that because the two things were on separate lines, I wanted chocolate and chips. My mother, on the other hand, decided that I wanted chocolate chips. When they got home and I asked why they had gotten 2 bags of chocolate chips, she told me that chocolate chips had been on my list. I knew that wasn’t possible. (I had written the list out twice because I felt the first time I was a bit too rude about what I didn’t want [i.e. food I can’t eat] them to get for me.) My dad still had the list, so I got it from him and I showed it to my mom. I asked her where on the list had I asked for chocolate chips. She realized that she’d made a mistake. Of course, she had already taken the “fun” step of accusing me of trying to make her look bad. That wasn’t the case. She told me that I was lying and that I was definitely trying to make her look incompetent.  She says that anytime anyone calls her on being wrong.  She thinks that it is my mission in life (and my dad’s mission in life) to make her miserable and make her seem like she doesn’t have a clue about what is going on.  I guess she thinks we enjoy giving her a hard time.

The next day, she asked if she was going to be getting my bank statements and bills and access to my accounts, so that she could get my finances “all straightened out”. She had decided that she was going to do this about a week before, after she’d told my dad that I had overdrawn my bank account again. (I hadn’t.) She’d come home from the grocery store that week to tell me that I was being irresponsible with the money in the account and that it was all due to being bipolar. She felt that, though she has a tendency to spend money as easy as (or easier than) me, she was the person who should be in charge of the accounts. At first, I had agreed, but that was only after she’d basically forced me to the brink of tears. By last Friday, though, I’d decided that I didn’t like that idea and I didn’t like how the “agreement” had been reached. When I told her, she said, “Your father told me that you would never let me do that.” I replied, “Well, I guess he knows me better than you do.” That pissed her off. She said, “I don’t know how.” I told her that dad and I had gotten a bit closer lately. She pointed out all the things that she had done for me in my life, and that my dad was always too busy for me. Basically, she was trying to use my insecurities with my dad against me. When she realized that that wasn’t going to work, she told me that she expected them to get the $200 per month that I owed them, even if I couldn’t pay any other bill or became overdrawn. And she seemed to think that I would definitely become overdrawn without her.

I realized about then that my mom has definitely been using me a lot more than I thought she did. I don’t know if she intentionally does it or if it’s just a “happy consequence” of the stuff I went through as a kid. I guess I’ve become so dependent on her for love and approval that I’ve given away my sense of personhood. The reason that I feel unappreciated and like a slave in my own house is probably that on some level, she doesn’t appreciate me and she does think of me more as a slave than as a daughter. And that’s depressing. I practically worshipped her for the majority of my life, and I feel like she never really valued me. Maybe I’ve let people step all over me my whole life because I just don’t feel like I deserve a real say in things.

Oh, I’m considering moving the posts from Hyperaware and Blah Blah Biddy Blah onto this domain. I’ve got a poll on the Facebook page for If you could vote on it, I would appreciate it. I think it would be easier on and cheaper for me to combine them, but I want to know what other people think. Feel free to comment there or here about what you think about the possible combination.

Now, I’m about to talk about some stuff that might be gross for some folks, so don’t look if you’re squeamish.

I have yet to do the stool tests. I think that they wanted them done on Tuesday. Unfortunately, my gut doesn’t care about their schedule. If anything, it seems like it has taken on my personality of trying to give the doctors hell.

I’ve tried a few of the foods that easily upset my system, i.e. greasy food, sweet food, bread/crackers, cheese, Little Caesar’s pizza, drinks with sugar in them. So far, nothing has worked. And now, I’m getting worried about it. I haven’t gone this long without feeling the urge to go in over ten years. I know that constipation and just not going is normal for a lot of people, but it isn’t for me. Even when I’ve not had to go in the past, it was never something that was normal for me. I’ve always been more prone to diarrhea than constipation. And I know that my stomach is still having problems because it still hurts like hell. I just can’t do the stupid test. I don’t even think I could do the urine tests at this point, even though I have had at least 180 ounces of water. I hope its just nerves, but I’m beginning to feel like that might not be the case.

Anyway, until it happens, I guess I will just sit around trying all the other food that usually makes me sick. Meanwhile, I’ll be feeling all clammy, tired (more like extremely exhausted–yesterday I became exhausted just vocally calling Alice), and sore.

About Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.