Mama Drama


My mom can be a wonderful person. She can also be completely horrid. She is easier to talk to now than she was during the those years she spent 24-hours a day on the couch after-the-ankle-surgeries-and-before-the-house-was-condemned. She’s more difficult than she was before that time, though.

She’s more flighty than she used to be. She doesn’t care how little money is in the bank or how much things she wants to do cost. She goes on Craigslist every day to find things that we need or things she thinks that we need. She enters contests and sweepstakes and fills out survey after survey. Usually the stuff she enters ends up being scams. Sometimes she gives them information that ends up costing money. When dad and I have tried to warn her, she’ll say stuff about how we treat her like a toddler and she claims that this was how we treated her during those couch-ridden days. She can’t remember anything else about that time period, but somehow she remembers that we didn’t do anything for her or try to help her in anyway back then, which is a shit claim.

She has also been doing more of the one-upping thing and the pity parties. On Monday, my father had to have both an upper and a lower endoscopy done. He found out that he had polyps in his esophagus, stomach, and intestines. He also found out that he has diverticulosis in the last bit of his colon. As she was telling me this, she made it a point to say, “I have it all-through mine.” I looked at her–glared would be more accurate–and said, “It isn’t a game.” When I told her about my shoulder pain, she launched into a, “well, I had something wrong with that tendon in my shoulder and had to have surgery for it.” I don’t know why she felt the need to tell me this since I was alive when it happened. I may have only been three when we were in the wreck that injured her shoulder, but I know about the surgery, why it happened, and the very big scar that she has had for over a quarter of a century now. She may have felt, in that last case, like she was empathizing, but it doesn’t really come across like that. If I complain about any bit of pain or discomfort, I get to hear about how her suffering is just so much worse than mine and how I will never understand her plight.

Oh, and she is very forgetful lately. She forgets things that are said to her, or just doesn’t pay attention to the people talking too her, all the time. Heaven help you if you forget something that she says. She thinks my father may have some type of dementia, which might be true, but she turns around and gives him hell if he forgets anything (big or small) that she she says. She’ll say he doesn’t care about her or doesn’t love her or doesn’t respect her. If she forgets anything, though, she says that she should be excused for that forgetfulness because she’s on 17 (I think) medicines, has kidney failure, and that she nearly died last year, and that all of those things give her a reasonable excuse for forgetting things. If my dad has dementia, then that should definitely excuse any bouts of forgetfulness that he has. If the near-death stuff is an excuse, then I should get a free pass on anything I forget because I nearly died last year, too. But no…she is the only person that gets to get away with everything.

She’s just so frustrating these days. I love her, but she seems to be using/playing us sometimes or picking fights just to get extra attention. And if I bring up any of these feelings or frustrations, she tells me that I just need more therapy. She doesn’t need anymore, though. (And, as of this afternoon, she will no longer be in therapy. She’ll just be seeing a psychiatrist. Why? Because the psychiatrist thinks that she doesn’t need it anymore.) She admits that she picks the fights for attention or for absolutely no reason sometimes. She attempts to justify these fights. Sometimes she goes out of her way to piss my dad off, and with his anger issues and quick temper, it really doesn’t take much to trigger a massive verbal sparring match to break out. But even though she admits to provoking him deliberately, she feels that he is the sole person to blame for them and that this behavior by him is the only bad behavior going on between the two of them. I just really wish she would behave like an adult. The stress from her behavior is making life way more difficult than it needs to be.


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.