Finally worked up the nerve to tell my mother about my current educational/financial plight…

I opened with, “Can I talk to you about something important?” She responds, “I ain’t got no money.” Off to a great start.

She kinda just sat there barely listening while on her computer as I spilled everything: my reduced financial aid, possibly moving off-campus, not making much money from work, the possible troubles with transferring my job… After finishing, she says, “Well, I don’t know what to tell you…” So I walked out, and she asked why I left. I said that since she has nothing else to say, that I was done, that I’d been stressing over this for weeks, thinking of how I could talk to her about, that I can’t talk to her about anything anymore. I feel like I could’ve said more to really drive the point home that I have no support system, but I think she may have gotten it.

I still don’t know what I’m going to do.

Of course, things should be good, but my mom just needed to be her usual life ruiner self.

She proceeded to tell me again as to why I’m just lazy, dependent, pathetic, unimportant, and god knows what else, like my father, and because she can’t stand him, she can’t stand me.

Um, wasn’t me getting a job supposed to be a good thing? I never thought that getting a job was apparently something that I needed to be accosted for, especially when she’s the one that’s been constantly hounding me to get one.

Oh, also, I’m a hermit. Well, gee, sorry. I’ll get out of my room, hop in my car, and go spend some money having fun with my friends. Oh wait! I don’t drive, none of my friends from school live here, nor do I know more than one person that does and she’s not even home. I literally do not have any money to my name. I don’t even have a room! Me sitting on the couch in the living room depressed day in, day out? THAT’S ALL I CAN DO. I can’t just borrow daddy’s credit card and go off camping, hang out in the city, go out to clubs, visit my friends next door, have pool parties, order pizza, etc.

I’m just held up to ridiculous standards for absolutely no reason. Living here is basically like being in prison. My mother says I sit around like I’m better than everyone else and look down on them. Hell fucking yes, I do, look at how they treat me! Like a fucking redheaded stepson (that’s such an idiotic analogy). No one offers to do anything with/for me, asks how I am, even breathes in my direction, yet I’m a nuisance.

I need to get away from these idiots. I need to spend as much time at work, try to make as much money as possible, hopefully get transfered when I get back to Albany, and just never come back.

Have to rely on the old trick of using my sister’s influence just to get pizza for dinner.

Because god forbid if I ask if we can get food, even though I haven’t eaten at all today, and barely at all the past two days. Anything my sister asks for, she’ll get with no questions asked.

I’m just as good at playing the game as my mother is.

My mother’s back to playing her mind games…

She apparently “not talking” to me because of the whole social security card thing on Monday. You know, when I’d told her over two weeks ago when I was hired in the first place to find it, since she has all of my vital documents locked away, then never looked for it, and when I had to search for it myself at the last minute, couldn’t find shit.

Now she’s playing the “do you have money?” and “get a job” game. Fuck you, you passive aggressive bitch. If there was a problem, it was because of you. Get over the bullshit, and wait like I have to (since it’s MY job to worry about) until they call me for the next orientation like they said. Don’t take your stupid misplaced aggression out on me by starving me again.

While packing one of my bags, I realized I stashed my vibrator, lube, and batch of condoms in one of the pockets.

  • Me: Okay, ma. I'm going to show you this now, to save myself from any further embarrassment, so that you also know not to open this pocket in this bag, okay?
  • Mother: Alright... (Looks inside, grabs a condom, looks at it)
  • Me: No, this. (Pulls vibrator up from the bag a bit)
  • Mother: (Pulls it out the rest of the way, not seeing what it is) Huh? Ah, ew! Is that clean?! Ahhh, I gotta wash my hands! (Runs away)

An old family friend from the Bronx just passed away.

She was my mom’s best friends’ mother, almost like a second mom. My mom’s understandably very upset right now. I, of course, feel bad for her more than anything. I knew the family myself also; my mom’s friend had her first son just months after I was born, so we grew up together while my family still lived in the Bronx. We grew apart obviously, but my mom and them always kept in touch. There’s a service tomorrow, and my mom’s going. I just hope she’ll be okay.

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