We interrupt our regularly scheduled post to bring you this special report.
When this post is complete, we will return you to your program.
Warning:
This post contains graphic violence,
foul language, annoying self-pity
and intense selfishness.
This post may not be suitable
for children or people with
weak stomachs.
Are you stuck in a rut? Are you tired of the boring, day-to-day sameness of your life? Well get the f**k over it. Be JOYOUS about bland. Learn to LOVE predictable.
After all, it's all downhill from there.
(I'm suddenly reminded of the movie Soylent Green. When people were "chosen" to die, the were put in a room with pretty pictures on a screen. Fields of flowers, flowing brooks etc. which was overlayed by beautiful music. It was the HUMANE way to kill people. Sick movie that one. Quite amusing at the moment though.)
I created this blog as a place to vent the harsh realities of life. My life. My silly, predictable, routine, boring, unchallenging life.
Someone should have just slapped me right then and there.
Too late. I'm way too into this to stop now.
Special Report: The phone rang at 5:00 a.m. on March 15th, 2006.
I looked at the caller ID and promptly ignored it.
It was the daughter of my best friend.
What went through my mind was horrid. I thought,
"If she has overdosed, her daughter should be calling 9-1-1. If she's dead, I'm not ready to find out. I'll find out later. If the daughter has been in a car accident, she has other family members to call."Sick, huh? Selfish? You bet.
It was 5:00 a.m.
In the entire history of phones there has never been a GOOD 5:00a.m. phone call!
I was not wrong.
In my defense, Jess is prone to DRAMA. She's 20. Why wouldn't she be?
She gets it from her mother.
I love them both regardless, but I am NOT in an emotional place to be of any help to either of them. (there's my nasty selfishness)
(You want to know what the phonecall was, don't you? We're getting there.)
History: My best friend is manic depressive. Her daughter is a 4.0 prelaw student. A brilliant child with an over-emotional view of life.
Neither of them will seek therapy for reasons that I entirely understand.
OH MY GAWD!!! I just realized I'm justifying this crap.
Fine.
Drama-Jess called back after I didn't answer the first time.
I figured someone was dead so I should answer the phone. I did and what came across was a completely calm, very conversational "Hi."
This immediately put me on the defense. I thought "oh boy, here comes the Poor Me soap opera." I was not disappointed.
Drama-Jess said "I thought you would want to know that mom's in jail."
(Uh-oh.)
"Why? What happened."
"She beat the s**t out of me."
(Well damn! Damn and double damn! This has never happened before. I KNEW she shouldn't have been given those steroids by that freaking doctor. She had a sciatic nerve problem. Sterioids should be outlawed just because of the uncontrollable emotional state they put people in and THAT'S what I'll tell the judge at her freaking trial which I will be attending in the future. ((more selfishness)))"Jess, what caused this?"
(Now, I said Jess is 20 right? She's at that perfect age where EVERYTHING is FOREVER. I hate that age. It's the one where breakups are a life-threatening experience. It's the age, caused by inexperience, that girls do not understand the depth of things that happen to adults. It's the most selfish age.)Jess replied "I don't know." which I really, highly doubted.
I said, "What happened to set her off?" (drill a little deeper kiddo!)
"She handed me this note and said 'read this out loud' and when I didn't she hit me across the face. Then she did it again until I called the police."
(not that it really matters but the visual here is a 46yr old, 92 lb woman smacking her much larger, much younger daughter)
Are you sick? I am.
Jess moved back in with her mother about a month ago. Since then she has cost her mother well over a thousand dollars. Cars, health insurance, sick pets, tuition expenses, groceries...etc. Her mother does not have that money. Jess works. Jess works, hides her money from her mother, pays for nothing, expects the world to be handed to her and constantly talks about the "trip to Las Vegas" that she is going to take for her 21st birthday next month.
She also doesn't see what's wrong with any of the above.
Jess's mother complains. Daily. Hourly.
She blames Jess for all the bad things in her own life. She blames Jess for all the things she can't do because she has no money.
Jess's mother is not a strong woman and she is horrifically selfish for a 46yr old mom. That drives me up a wall.
Jess's Mom will tell you she's not selfish. She'll tell you that she gives and gives and gets nothing in return.
I, having no children, think that giving and giving and getting nothing in return is NORMAL when raising a child and that it will work itself out later on when Jess has the experience to grasp all that her mother gives.
Jess's mom doesn't want to wait that long.
SO - Jess's mom had this hip/nerve problem. Took steriods for a week (which I remided her again and again "remember that your emotions are chemical emotions until you're over this stuff") and now the situation has gone beyond repair.
Hold on...this is going to get ugly:
I will now be required to "be there for her". I do not wish to "be there for her". I do not wish to "be there for" either of them.
I do not wish to be non-judgemental, consoling, advising, assisting, witnessing, or any of the other things that I will put my life on hold to do.
And that makes me a bad person because that's NOT who I am. I'm the one that saved Jess's Mom from suicide 12 years ago. I'm the one that has lead her through these past 12 years of drama. (and there's been more than enough!!) I have talked her off of more ledges than I care to remember and I have mediated a fair share of mom-daughter disagreements.
Now I just wish I hadn't answered that phone.
I WANT MY BORING LIFE BACK.
Yesterday I was sending and receiving happy, silly, joking e-mails with Jess's Mom.
All I can think now is
"what was on that note."So, the next time I'm whining about my boring, unchallenging, samedom....someone remind me about 5:00a.m. phone calls. Remind me that routine is a damned sight better than dead pets, dead fathers and psychotic friends.
Remind me that there was a time when life was boring and I was one helluva lot closer to happiness then.
Happy Mother-Freaking-Wednesday. Please revel in the boredom!