I'm no fan of this holiday.
This is not meant to offend, quite the contrary, rather just to explain a position subjectively and without emotion. I've no stake in this sentiment.
It's impossible to talk to my mother. I can take her in small doses, as I see her 1-3 hours a day. We have nothing in common, though I love her unconditionally. I fear she doesn't have the capacity to see this. She projects and represses. She's been doing it all of her life and it stems from my maternal grandparents who are miserly evil fucks. Twice a year we have to go to their giant house lavishly outfitted and redecorated with the most useless expensive shit.
I'm by no means jealous, but we live in poverty. We've always lived in poverty. I find this situation a tad disconcerting. The greatest offense is that they are a loveless couple of people. Unfortunately, my mother naturally shares some of those characteristics, although she is capable of real love and empathy. She's partly responsible for my courteous and chivalrous demeanor.
To top it off, 3 years ago over some drinks (my mom's a functional alcoholic, 2-6 beers a night most nights; as was I at the time) she admitted to me that she never loved my father. She essentially brought me into this strange situation (life on earth in this foul year) for her own benefit to detract from the fact she never loved my father. She's very defensive and combative and on top of that shows no discernable guilt over this very major thing. They were married ten years, my father was what you would call an eccentric deadbeat, manic depressive with delusions of grandeur. I no longer speak with him as his treatment of my mother, sister, and myself led to a complex anxiety disorder which has made it inexorably hard to function in real life without medicines and doctors costing insane amounts of money as inflation has caused this rotten community of ours to live in poverty (well, at least 26% of us by my current count).
I'm often treated as a person with a 'problem'... To be continued.
_
14:48:53 12/25/11
This was thrice as long and more in depth originally but I lost the page and auto-save only saves a portion of one's writing I'm finding out. I don't have the emotional strength to salvage the remnants of this beast from my waning and exhausted mental faculty.
I've not the resolve to finsish it this moment, although I'm about to attend a dinner at my grandparents house which I'm usuing to my advantage as a sociological experiment. That and the free booze and food.
My mother initially lied to them and said I had "work" that day. She didn't want me there because she inwardly hates her parents ridiculously pompous and otherworldly odd behavior towards their children/grandchildren. It's an anomaly. Loveless beyond measure. I aim to measure it fully equipped with dictaphone and various forms of surveillance equipment.
I wish to write an essay or in the very least a long and admittedly weird screed on these creatrues, if only to understand their habits and come to grips with this strange part of my 'family' life. Keep in mind I see these people twice a year, they have all the money in the fucking world, are loveless cultureless vultures, and contribute heavily to my mothers own mental issues; of which she denys and seeks no help.
I have 3 family members and we're separated by these two stone pillars of emphatically bereft manifestations. Mom, Sis, and Aunt R.
I'll add more to this when I have a clearer head as I've been having strong emotional disputes with mother yesterday and a bit today as she's been drinking quite a bit. Not knock-down drunk, mind you, as tolerance runs in our families blood. I can drink 7 drinks in 20 minutes, brush my teeth and go to work unbeknownst to my superiors if I so chose (though I stopped drinking in that fashion since getting back on meds. I drink twice a week, maybe. That would be FREQUENT for me.) If marijuana were available to me I'd be using this instead, but alas, inflation makes it a bit expensive and I'm officially broke until tomorrow.
To be continued, still once I get some of this on tape. You wouldn't believe the behavior if you heard it, you just very well may depending on my mood. I've no qualms with adjusting this piece with an addendum and recording in MP3 format.
This is not meant to offend, quite the contrary, rather just to explain a position subjectively and without emotion. I've no stake in this sentiment.
It's impossible to talk to my mother. I can take her in small doses, as I see her 1-3 hours a day. We have nothing in common, though I love her unconditionally. I fear she doesn't have the capacity to see this. She projects and represses. She's been doing it all of her life and it stems from my maternal grandparents who are miserly evil fucks. Twice a year we have to go to their giant house lavishly outfitted and redecorated with the most useless expensive shit.
I'm by no means jealous, but we live in poverty. We've always lived in poverty. I find this situation a tad disconcerting. The greatest offense is that they are a loveless couple of people. Unfortunately, my mother naturally shares some of those characteristics, although she is capable of real love and empathy. She's partly responsible for my courteous and chivalrous demeanor.
To top it off, 3 years ago over some drinks (my mom's a functional alcoholic, 2-6 beers a night most nights; as was I at the time) she admitted to me that she never loved my father. She essentially brought me into this strange situation (life on earth in this foul year) for her own benefit to detract from the fact she never loved my father. She's very defensive and combative and on top of that shows no discernable guilt over this very major thing. They were married ten years, my father was what you would call an eccentric deadbeat, manic depressive with delusions of grandeur. I no longer speak with him as his treatment of my mother, sister, and myself led to a complex anxiety disorder which has made it inexorably hard to function in real life without medicines and doctors costing insane amounts of money as inflation has caused this rotten community of ours to live in poverty (well, at least 26% of us by my current count).
I'm often treated as a person with a 'problem'... To be continued.
_
14:48:53 12/25/11
This was thrice as long and more in depth originally but I lost the page and auto-save only saves a portion of one's writing I'm finding out. I don't have the emotional strength to salvage the remnants of this beast from my waning and exhausted mental faculty.
I've not the resolve to finsish it this moment, although I'm about to attend a dinner at my grandparents house which I'm usuing to my advantage as a sociological experiment. That and the free booze and food.
My mother initially lied to them and said I had "work" that day. She didn't want me there because she inwardly hates her parents ridiculously pompous and otherworldly odd behavior towards their children/grandchildren. It's an anomaly. Loveless beyond measure. I aim to measure it fully equipped with dictaphone and various forms of surveillance equipment.
I wish to write an essay or in the very least a long and admittedly weird screed on these creatrues, if only to understand their habits and come to grips with this strange part of my 'family' life. Keep in mind I see these people twice a year, they have all the money in the fucking world, are loveless cultureless vultures, and contribute heavily to my mothers own mental issues; of which she denys and seeks no help.
I have 3 family members and we're separated by these two stone pillars of emphatically bereft manifestations. Mom, Sis, and Aunt R.
I'll add more to this when I have a clearer head as I've been having strong emotional disputes with mother yesterday and a bit today as she's been drinking quite a bit. Not knock-down drunk, mind you, as tolerance runs in our families blood. I can drink 7 drinks in 20 minutes, brush my teeth and go to work unbeknownst to my superiors if I so chose (though I stopped drinking in that fashion since getting back on meds. I drink twice a week, maybe. That would be FREQUENT for me.) If marijuana were available to me I'd be using this instead, but alas, inflation makes it a bit expensive and I'm officially broke until tomorrow.
To be continued, still once I get some of this on tape. You wouldn't believe the behavior if you heard it, you just very well may depending on my mood. I've no qualms with adjusting this piece with an addendum and recording in MP3 format.
