June 26, 2018

Denial, Day 2

“You used to do your hair. What happened? Why don’t you do it anymore?” Mom, 5:37 PM, her car. As if I never do my hair. Like I just have a rat’s nest on top of my head and walk around proudly shunning normal human behavior.

I wanted to tell her that if she has nothing nice to say, then don’t say anything, as this is the advice I have received my entire life when I tried to share MY opinions. However, before I could say anything, she followed up her previous statement with, “I like this dress better on you. The other one looks like a bag.”

I let that sink in. I replied, “Why don’t you let me ask you for your opinions sometimes instead of giving them randomly, when I don’t want them at all?”

And she said, and I quote, “I don’t know. I just assumed you needed to know it looks like you’re wearing a bag.” Oh, okay then. Thanks, I guess.

We spent the day eating and watching murder. I also went to the dentist and made awkward conversation with the dental assistant about Prairie Dogs while she put a poky device and a small mirror in my mouth. (I could see Prairie Dogs outside the window, for the record. Didn’t make it any less awkward or mumble-y.)

True crime is our go-to show to watch. I don’t know what that says about me, except that if I murder someone, I will definitely get away with it. Except now that I’ve written this post. Now I won’t. Shame, because I really do have a good way to cover it up. Oh well, guess no murdering anyone.

Day 16 – Mom’s endless opinions and not dealing with my problems.

June 25, 2018

DENIAL

The day has arrived. I am home with my mom. It is…really here. I am really here. This will be quite the week. But let’s start with what I told you I was going to look into –

Denial. I am beginning my grieving process at Denial, or so says the 5 Stages of Grief. Denial has been my constant survival technique. I know this step well. I am very comfortable here.

According to the always trustworthy Internets, the stage of Denial exists because it “helps us to survive the loss.” True, Internets. True. I have been on this stage for two years now.

I surprised my mom for her birthday. When I walked in through the garage door and into the kitchen, she jumped up and down and hugged me, then she pulled back and looked at me carefully, saying “I thought you’d at least do your hair.” (I had just done my hair for a wedding…it’s as “done” as it ever will be.) Yes, ladies and gentlemen, she has a lot of opinions. After I gave her a tolerant smile and said, “It’s nice to see you, too,” I pretended she didn’t say that. Denial.

I proceeded to eat some take out I found on the counter before she abruptly said, “It’s possible to have a real job, you know. You could still get a normal job. You could work. It is a possibility.” I ignored this, as well. Denial #2. After she said that, I started chewing on my nails because what else could I do? She immediately smacked my hand away from my mouth and said sarcastically, “well that’s attractive.” I told her that I didn’t care about being attractive, but she said that I should care and I should “stop cannibalizing myself.” I asked her, “then what am I supposed to do?” She didn’t have a good suggestion…

Then the opinions/questions/judgments progressed to “when are you getting married?” and “aren’t you going to have a wedding?” and “are you just going to end up alone?” And this was in the first hour and a half of being here. I told her I plan to end up with my dog. So, needless to say, it’s going well.

I don’t know why anyone moves on from this stage. Except my fingers hurt a lot from biting the nails down below the quick.

Day 15 – Denial is in full swing and also my mom

June 21, 2018

It was one of those days where I decided I was going to do something with my day, and ended up doing all the stuff I hate: dishes and cleaning and tidying up and generally using Clorox.

I woke up late because I was up sick last night. Apparently if you drink a large coke at midnight after not having soda for years and then immediately lay down, you throw up all night. Who knew?!? So since I didn’t sleep due to that, and then my insomnia kicked in and I had to – had to – watch Friends for several hours, I didn’t get out of bed very early. Then I walked my dog, at which point I got yelled at by a stranger, as tends to happen.

Let me tell you what this strange person said to me. He stopped in the middle of traffic – cars honking all around him – to yell at me. I was listening to a podcast so I didn’t notice until the yelling was impossible to ignore. I take out one earbud, and this guy yells at me, “it’s too hot for her feet.” So I look down at my dog, who’s sniffing some other dog’s pee, and look back at him. But before I can tell him to fuck off with his unsolicited opinions, he tells me that “I have to feel the ground with the back of my hand for 10 seconds” and then proceeds to open his car door in the middle of traffic and put his hand down to DEMONSTRATE HOW TO TOUCH THE GROUND WITH A HAND. I was a combination of flabbergasted at the mansplaining and confused as to why it was happening. It was 70 degrees out. My dog was in the shade and very content. AND I KNOW HOW TO TOUCH THE GROUND. So instead of murdering him with my words, which I wanted to, I just said, “yeah, she’s fine. Thanks for your opinions!” and put my headphones back in and kept walking. I could hear him continuing to yell at me over the honking of the cars he was still blocking, but I ignored him. Later, I felt the ground because OBVIOUSLY NOW I HAD TO but just like I thought it barely felt warm and that guy can fuck off.

So I came home from that and cleaned my entire house for what seemed to be the first time ever based on the amount of grime and dirt and Swiffer pads I used. It was an effective way to distract myself, but not an effective way to make myself feel better. I ate Top Ramen for dinner and drank lemonade out of the carton like a frat guy (maybe they wouldn’t drink lemonade specifically, but the image is still accurate).

Maybe tomorrow I won’t cry into my overly salty, undercooked noodles. Oh, did I forget to mention the crying? Hmmm.

Day 11 – Numb but my house is clean.