She Opens Her Mouth And Nothing BUT STUPIDITY Comes Out.

In the on-going battle of fortitude (and wits) with my mother, re: the Great Telephone Time Out of 2013, I won this round. Given the last time I called her, which was two weeks after my trip abroad, she was so cold and distant and bitchy, if she wants to speak to me, she can pick up the phone to call me herself. I'm not expending one more iota of energy catering to her demands.

So either her computer was on the blink or the curiosity got the better of her (re: my ongoing medical issues) or what, she broke down and called me (during working hours) and left a vm on my cell, which I did not return the call until I got home, and until I finished eating my dinner. Subtext: When it was convenient FOR ME to do so.

This conversational snippet is from last night's conversation.

Her: Your cousin came down w/her bf. Oh he's a big boy... A BIG BOY.
Me: Uh. Yeah. I met him in December at the funeral.
Her: But he's a BIG BOY. And he's got diabetes.
Me: Well...She's a BIG GIRL. And your point is?
Her: They're so young, and well... (fortunately for me, she did not choose to regale me ONCE MORE about how diabetes affects male sexual function... AS IF I needed to have that in my collection of memories involving my dad, who had diabetes.)
Me: Well given our family's predisposition to diabetes, it's only a matter of time until SHE has it too.
Her: Huh? What? The connection is bad.
Me: She's a BIG GIRL... it's only a matter of time before SHE has it too.
Her: (rethinking what she was saying, I suppose), Well, BOTH of her grandmother's had diabetes.
Me: My point exactly.
Her: *crickets*

What really bothers me is this bubble of denial my mother is in about exactly HOW big she really is, and how judgmental she is about any OTHER person of size. Rather than being happy that my fucked up cousin actually found someone, someone who is a decent guy, rather than be HAPPY for my cousin, mom has to find something wrong with him. 

In a very real way, not only has she become her father, but she's turned into her father's mother (the one from whom all the "compassion" (sarcasm intended) emanates). Apparently, growing up, hearing her Italian grandmother say in broken English, "ohh... you're so FAT!" is totally lost on her.

FUCK HER!

End Note: as of 2/07/14, her weight has tipped in at a smooth 401 lbs, which was verified, surreptitiously, on the digital scale read out on the bariatric bed she was forced to lay upon during her hospitalization in February 2014.

Brilliance from Tiny Buddha

Saw this in my FB feed today, found it fitting to share here: 

 "When something bad happens you have three choices. You can let it define you, let it destroy you, or you can let it strengthen you." ~Unknown

Inner Dialogue: Part Deux

  "How you speak to your children becomes their inner voice." 

I suppose this might be a continuing feature on this blog, given the abundance of material presented to me in my 44 years on this planet.

One of my earliest memories which involve mom's "destructive" nature, involves me and my siblings. Sis and I are about 18 months apart, and sis and brother are "Irish Twins," and 13 months apart. So we were all "little" at the same time.

I recall an outing at an aunt's house. We were playing, "being kids," and perhaps a bit loud. I don't recall anything excessive that day. No possessions broken or big fights getting into. Perhaps we were playing loudly, rowdy. Who knows.

I remember vividly our mother sitting us all down, with a scowl on her face, and informing us ow how we disappointed her, however, didn't just stop there.

"YOU!" (me) "You were a condom that never was!" (Dad alleged early on in their marriage he might be sterile as he had the mumps as a kid. Obviously an incorrect assumption.) Note: My age, approximately 7 or 8.

"YOU!" (baby brother) "You were a diaphragm that didn't work!" Brother's age: 4 or 5.

"AND YOU!" (sis) "You were the ONLY ONE I wanted, AND LOOK AT WHAT I GOT!" (Sis' age 6 or 7).

As I've stated before in a previous entry, I really have no interest on "being there" moments before she "meets her maker," however, if I do happen to be there, I do hope I have the presence of mind before her brain totally flat lines, to whisper in her ear "You did not destroy me. I am loved. And I am happy. Good luck in the next life." or perhaps something more succinct like, "If we ever meet again, remember, I tried to love you." 

Having the Emotional Depth of a Dewdrop

I believe the author of Children of the Self-Absorbed put it best about having a self-absorbed, narcissistic destructive parent, that they have the emotional depth of a dewdrop. Sums up my mom so succinctly.

Telephone time out is still in full effect, however, the endless spate of forwarded chain emails to me have rendered ZERO response from me to her, she broke down and emailed me last night. And I decided to blast her with a big honkin' dose of reality.

(Read from the bottom upwards.)

Mom's single word reply to me:

crazy

From: Me
Subject: RE:
To: Mom
Date: Tuesday, July 2, 2013, 3:21 AM

Too much going on. First a thyroid cancer scare. Surgery scheduled for 7/23 assuming my consult w/pulmonologist clears me. Have a spot on the lung. They call it a granuloma.  Consult w/pulmonologist is 7/8. Not much to talk about. Work and doc appts. On top of this a good friend has been diagnosed with stage four squamous cell carcinoma. So hurry up and wait (for us). Hope you're well and staying cool.

-------- Original message --------
From: Mom
Date: 07/01/2013 12:46 PM (GMT-05:00)
To: Me
Subject:

well this is July when is your surgery? you've made yourself such a stranger. I'm always asking your sister and brother if they heard from you...Be well

Gotta love the insistence that I'm "such a stranger," when she is the one who refuses to pick up the phone. I refuse to pick up the phone, because, let's recap, I DID JUST THAT about a month ago, and she was cold and distant and bitchy to me. So if she wants to be cold and distant and bitchy to me, verbally? She needs to exert her fingers and dial the phone herself.

Also, "crazy?" Yeah. I tell you I had a cancer scare, I have a spot on my lung, and a dear friend has STAGE FOUR SQUAMOUS CELL CARCINOMA, the very cancer that destroyed YOUR MOTHER, and all you can muster up is CRAZY? FUCK YOU! 

Side note: While normally, I prefer NOT telling my mother things, I did this DUMPTRUCK maneuver two fold, to shut her the fuck down (like she just did with the succinct, "crazy,") and also she will no doubt go into Pitiful Pearl ZOMG mode, and whine to my aunt and my sister about "Did you know about the thyroid thing?" And perhaps, JUST PERHAPS, it might remind them, "OH YEAH... " So it's OBLIQUE at best, but my way of letting them know that I KNOW how they failed me.  And in the end, it's not going to matter one iota. I mean, really. Our relationship at this point is primarily just genetic and peripheral at best at this point. 

FUCK THEM.