My mommy says mean things. And does some, too.
When Ma was feeling that we were moving forward on the plan with Lee & Dorothy, she started vocalizing her disapproval more strongly. I’m okay with that if it was because she didn’t feel that she was being heard. The thing is, what set her off was when I was recounting how due diligence was performed on every point she had brought up. No chance that she felt I wasn’t hearing what she said.
Which means that she felt that I wasn’t hearing what she meant, or that she didn’t care if I heard as long as I didn’t do what she didn’t want me to do. What she meant wasn’t “there’s a problem with x and y and q.” What she meant was “I have expressed disapproval; your role is now to tuck your tail down and roll over, peeing yourself and the floor.”
When that didn’t happen she escalated again. It went from “I think you are both out of your minds or dam fouls.[sic]” to “This cult bitch has been able to come between us.” and “I do have to deal with your impaired judgment and how it affects me.”
Ad hominem attacks in prejudiced tone. Lovely.
My mother is a manipulative person. So am I, but I don’t insist that people do what I say; I just try to get them to do what I believe will make them happier. She just wanted me to do what she wanted me to do.
Maybe not. Maybe she had my interests at heart.
But she is a person who will attack others in prejudiced tone. She did not bring me up to think that it was all right to call someone a nigger, nor to separate the Jews and the Christians. Apparently it is okay to separate out the Pagans and the hippies, though.
Prejudice is prejudice. I can’t tell the difference. She might as well have called Dorothy a nigger.
Since I was in my teens, I’ve always known that Ma and I could turn to each other for counsel, for trusted support. Right now what I know is that my mother is severely limited and can do hurtful things when she doesn’t get her way. What I know is that I can’t trust her to be objective, and to behave well toward other people.
I can’t trust my mother not to hate and spit bile and judgement.
I’ve been mourning for a few days now. We will still be close, and I still love her, but I am very pointedly aware of her shortcomings, and that there are things in my life that I simply should not share with her. That’s a horrible change.
I keep trying to remember that she is the same person she was last week, and a decade and four decades ago. That isn’t helping. It just calls into question everything during that time…and everything I call into question, I find is explained by the newly observed behaviors.