Schizophrenia in Utero

It's been awhile. I have no specific thoughts, per say. My mind is in a complete muddle at the moment, and probably will be for a few more days. The Parents just left after 4 days here, and it went better than expected, and worse than expected. The Mom didn't say a word about kids or grand kids, she pretty much kept her mouth shut about our eating habits as well, and she didn't say anything about how dirty (or not) our bathrooms or kitchen were. She didn't give me any unsolicited advise, either. And it totally threw me for a loop.

I had no idea what to do, how to act. It was still tense, at least on my end, as it always is, but it was a different tense. I couldn't tell which way was up, or which direction I should be going. It was definitely strange. The Man was the one to point out to me that the tension was my fault, and man did it suck to realize that he was right. It had always been The Mom's fault before, for not respecting boundaries, but then, I never enforced them either, and invited her to violate them by telling her things, or asking questions about stuff that I really shouldn't have. It's hard to do when you really want that TV relationship with your mom, all buddy buddy and sunshine and flowers. All I want is total, unquestioned acceptance of my opinions, my values, my choices, of me. But I guess no mother does that.

Only 3 bad things happened this week: 1) She told me that The Dad told her that I weighed 150 pounds 3 years ago when he weighed me for life insurance, when in actuality I weighed 130, according to him (I don't weigh myself for various purposes), and therefore implying that I was too fat because I have gained too much weight since then (not that much, I promise!) to be buying the tights I wanted to get. 2) She questioned my testimony of my church when I told her that I don't believe that religion as we know it will exist when Christ comes back and 3) She also asked me (in not so many words) if I was materialistic because I was talking about all the different things I want to do with our house and implied that I was unhappy because of this materialism and that I was not truly following what my church teaches about materialism, and therefore have lost my testimony. I think that's what gets me the most. She knows I'm less happy than unhappy, because I have repeatedly told her this through the years, in a vain attempt to help her understand, though that is starting to change (the happiness, not her understanding abilities). She knows that I struggle with depression on a daily basis. And I've told her time and again that part of that depression is clinical, meaning that it's genetic/a chemical imbalance (I get it from The Dad's side of the family) and part of it isn't-I'm not going to get into that here. The clinical side will always rear it's ugly head when I'm stressed or upset. I just don't handle those emotions well. Well, actually, I don't handle ANY emotions well. But that's another post, for when I'm feeling depressed enough to actually dump my problems on the unsuspecting public. Well, more so than I usually do.



But they are gone now, home safe and sound. I should be happy, feel release and the ability to move on with my real life. But I can't! I feel trapped, stuck. I just want to crawl under my bed and tell the world to go away and right it's self, and then I will come out and go about my usual business. (I would probably not see the light of day until well after the Second Coming.) I can't stand it! I'm restless, inattentive, and I've got some weird feeling in the pit of my stomach that won't go away and that I can't identify. The worst part? I have to go to The Home State to see her again in August. Less than a month away. And I have to do this, I'm obligated to, because she is sad that she only got to see us for 4 days, and she is sad that The Little Brother and The Little Ex-Sister-In-Law-To-Be broke up, and she wants to gather her children around her to feel better. I'm not a mother, so I can't say that I understand this seeming desire to assure herself that she is loved at all by surrounding herself with her children that aren't doing anything that she wants them to. It's hard to be there when you feel like you have no choice in being there. I would much rather go there to support her by my own volition, and hopefully someday that will happen, but as for now, well, let's just say that it's quite comfortable under my bed, or at least it would be if The Man would just jack it up a little more so that I can roll over occasionally.