http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_yb0zK_E2Oc

In other news....

Life is changed forever, now that I see things through different "glasses". As the truth dawns on me on one problem, it has a domino effect, and other things start to make sense too.

I hurts!

Like a sinking ship with new holes revealed every day.

Mom and me are linked in a dance that is so negative, that it shocks me. Over and over. I said it before, but the more I see, the more it rattles me. It's not even any use to ask "how" and "why". It started when I was born, got worse very fast and has never gotten any better. She has her reasons, and none of them are any good.

[brief interruption: mom walked in - I scurried - alone again now - geez - *bows head in embarrassment*]

She's winning, right now. We're getting back to square one. But it's only on the surface. I will win back the lost territory. Or, in other words: The dishes piling up again, the vacuuming in my room still not done, the monday laundry didn't happen and I'm trying to stay calm and create a masterpiece (writing and art) that will knock people's socks off. Plus I didn't go to the gym again, partly scared to go, partly really wanting to.

It's an uphill thing. I thought it would be simple. "Do this". Then it turned out, that we have all sorts of little "games" that she knows about and I didn't notice before. Things she does, says, buttons she pushes, that makes me fall flat on my face. Then, I start fidgeting about, all nervy, fail at what I wanted to do, blame myself, and wonder why I'm such a failiure.

Well... as more and more of her games become obvious to me, I get more and more immune to them. It becomes easier to get back to my plan, to get things done the way I want to. Basically, to take back the power and stop living in fear, self blame, self hate, and worry.

End of vent.

May you all have a great day, with happiness and good news and all good things!

xxx

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No, I wasn't wrong. So, I'm back. Not so much to vent, in this post. More to ponder a bit.

What happened was, that I was invited to the local gym by my mom. It wasn't quite that straightforward, but I ended up becoming a member. That's what made me feel guilty. She was being nice. I later realized, that she had to pay a lot less in entry fees if she got someone else to go. Bottom line, she didn't mean to be nice and generous, she meant to save money and it backfired.

Exercise is said to be great, if you need to get rid of stress, frustations and even let go of depression. I've felt a lot of bitterness, anger and sorrow, lately. Sorrow, because I started to mourn that I'd never have the mother, that I longed for. I gave up on the dream. She will never change. The bitterness and anger is very intense, sometimes. It is not unusual, that I need to get up and walk out of the TV room in the evening. Just for a while. Pretend to get something in my bedroom, or go to the bathroom. I need time out. Emotions are seething. My back muscles are tense.

Part of me is waking up, I guess. Screaming.

A long time ago, around 1998, I met a man who helped people with their aching backs, sore necks, and other ailments, and snapped them back into place. He was also interested in new age stuff. He asked if he could do a test on me. The others on the workplace said "go for it". It was a simple thing, you may have tried yourself:

He said: "Stand up straight, raise both your arms out to the side. I will try to push your arm down, and you will try to resist me." So I did. That went okay. Then he said "Now think about your dad" and again, he tried to push my arm down, and my resistance was lower. Then he said "Think about your mom" and he tried to push my arm down. My arm went down like soggy spaghetti.

Back then, I was dumbfounded. I questioned the test, because it had to be wrong! It was my dad, I had issues with, not mom, I said. He shook his wise old head and said, that the test was right.

I know it's human, but it's a little scary, to see how blind I was.

Living here, in this new place, where we are in an apartment and there are about 7 neighbours, I wonder what they think of us. When we moved in, I figured that the others probably didn't have any idea who we were, or what we were like. They'd just know if we were polite or rude to them.

Recently, it dawned on me, that I've underestimated them. Human beings are much more intuitive, in general, than I probably give them credit for. They see more than I think they see.

Here I am, pretending things are okay, and thinking that the life behind closed doors is a mystery. All the while, it's obvious to them, that an old woman like me, living with an even older mom, is not a good thing. Even more so, when the daughter goes around looking sad, shy, scared and has her shoulders up around her ears, and the mom is grumpy and sulking. Even though mom is polite, it still shows. We aren't fooling anyone at all!

Okay...

I've learned that sticking to schedule, even when it feels stupid, is important. It keeps me in control. So I have to do it MORE, not less.

I better stop here.

I will go read everyone's blogs here, when I get home. I have to get ready and go do a bunch of stuff, before I can get to the computer again.

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My sugar addiction. I decided to work on that, and shopped so that I would avoid the sugar, and just get other types of food. It worked until the evening, when I dug out the leftovers of some sugar snacks in a cupboard. Ate it. Crashed a bit. Pondered over how bad the body feels afterwards.

Started over this morning.

Early morning with laundry today. Bumbled down to the supermarket around the corner with plastic water bottles in a bag and bumbled on past the recycle station, into the shop, realized I must look awful this morning (all pale and dark circles) and.... then noticed that I still had the water bottles with me. "DO'H!"..... Left the shopping cart, waddled out and put the water bottles in their place. Waddled back. Everything okay. ABSENTMINDED? Nahhh....

Walking back with groceries, I noticed how fast and anxious I was walking. Realized I was having a really anxious morning, even out of the apartment. Mom and me are still debating the washing and it made me very jittery, earlier today.

Pondered over how I really need to get a lot healthier. The more I like myself, the "stupider" it feels to treat myself badly.

Got the dishes out of the way and only need one more washing.

It has become very clear to me, that my confidence goes way up, when I stay in charge and do what I want to do, when I want to do it. I need to do that in more ways, than I am now.

I also have to pay the price of huge anxiety, but the thing is... I feel that way for the littlest things anyway. So I might as well do what I want and get scared, than be stuck and be scared.

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I may come off as quite heartless and cold in this blog. Making things look unreal, even. But it is very real, and I used to be a softy, that waited and waited for things to work out. Tried things. Hoped it wasn't as bad as it looked.

I'm the softy that gives to beggars and homeless, and stops to help people with their pram or pick up groceries for the elderly if they drop them. I'm the one that people come up to in the supermarket, to ask for help to read the label, or where to find cheese chips and I don't even work there. One of the female employees said to me once "Oh, you're always so NICE"... and I was a bit startled and didn't know what to reply to that.

If I had been more selfish, I wouldn't be in this mess. I would have stopped caring and done what was best for me. Like most people do and what people SHOULD do.

To get out of a bad situation, you have to toughen up. That's why I write the way I do now, and make an effort, not to paint things pink and rosy anymore.

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I've been trying to write about that. In reply to the logical question people might be asking: "Why haven't you left?"

I want to leave. Problem One: There are no relatives or friends that I can move in with. Problem Two: There are no jobs to be gotten around here, since this area (and country) is struggling with high unemployment especially among those without an education. I live in Sweden BTW and my native tongue is Danish.

The only thing I am good at, and have made good money off before, is the art of illustration. Local businesses and libraries etc were my clients. My work is usually quite cute and somewhat elegant and humorous. I'm good.

Illustration can be done from home. Buyers use the Internet today, so as long as I have paper, pen and a scanner, I'm off to a good start.

I can be lucky and maybe get a job in a video store, that (I know) doesn't pay enough for people to pay for a place to live, even. Or I can do what I'm good at, and make real money.

So I've been trying to do that for months now, and failing for all sorts of reasons. What the heck was wrong with me? It's scary to KNOW you are good at something, and then be totally unable to do it.

Now WHY am I failing???? That is the big question.

Have you ever played the game called "human knot" or "arm breaker" or "doctor doctor" where everyone is entangled, holding hands and you have to twist and turn to untangle everybody? My life feels like that.

Where do I start? Life with mom often feels like having a metal bucket on my head and someone beating it constantly.

To be able to work in peace, I need to work when she's asleep. I've worked late at night when she was watching TV or a movie in the other room, and I've worked early in the morning, but it's not enough. It's best when she's asleep.

To get up very early in the morning is a good solution, except I'm feeling "hungover" from sugar and so tired, that I fall asleep again, sitting up.

My bad food choices have gone out of control, especially the last 10 years or so. It is self medication and it makes me sleepy, achy, foggy brained and dis-associated with my surroundings. It's my own fault, I know. I have to quit it, like people quit cigarettes.

There's more, but... After spending most of my brain power on trying to please her, finding ways to appease her, wondering what she'd like to eat for dinner, what I need to do or get for her, what I need to say to avoid anger etc... I haven't been thinking clearly. That's a recent thing.

Taking charge is a necessity.

Sticking to my guns, doing the laundry, the dishes and so on, is working so far.

I need to get rid of my sugar addictions etc, and I need to create stability in my daily routines to do that. Right now, I still follow her erratic day patterns and try to accommodate, and that does NOT work for me.

Epitaph - a note on love and wisdom

Someone I fell in love with said to me, a while back, that unless I could let go of my mother, I wouldn't be able to let anyone else in. Including him. Back then, I was so blinded to what my situation really was, that I didn't understand the wisdom and depth of what he was saying. Today, I see it.

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When mom got home from her 6 week trip, I had tidied the bathroom and on the long shelf above the sink, I put our joint hand cream in the middle. Right in the center. Then I put her toothbrush mug to the right (because her stuff used to be on the right) and mine to the left. Parallel. Balanced.

So... parallel, neat, balanced.... Symbolic of the two of us, having equal amounts of space.

It doesn't last long, before she moves her toothbrush to the middle and pushes everything over to my side, leaving her side blank. It looks absurd. I would have tried to explain it away, in the old days, but it's not a mistake. It's a really childish way of dominating me. Showing me "my place" and "her place".

She does the same thing in the kitchen. Over and over. Finds new ways all the time, to dominate and push. Every time she makes coffee, she "accidentally" moves the coffee machine so far over to the side, that I can't make tea in my usual spot. I also tend to have my things to the right of the bread box, in the kitchen. Now she "accidentally" places all sorts of things in that area, making it difficult to move there. Something as simple as making a sandwich or getting out stuff for muesli, becomes a difficult balancing act.

We just got through a "game" of coasters. We have some flower coasters, where some flowers are prettier than others. We normally don't use them, but I brought one out, to put under my tea cup, to avoid making marks on the wooden table top. It didn't take long before she took that coaster... So, I placed the coasters in a stack nearby, and used another one. She thought mine was more attractive so she took mine again. Found some strange use for it. So I took a new one... etc...

The childishness astounds me.

The good news is, that I can actually see it, and I'm no longer pretending that it's not happening.

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Your replies really helped, and strengthened my resolve. What a relief, that people can look at this and say "it is abuse" and "get out". I always thought that people wouldn't see how much it hurt and blame me and say that I was crazy.

I want to write each and everyone who replied, and thank you, before I post anything else.

Thank you!

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Now, at 40, I live with mom. I buy groceries, I do laundry, I clean and cook. If things need lifting, I lift them, if things need fixing, I fix them. When she leaves things laying around, I clean them up. According to her, and most family members, I should be grateful, because rotten people like me, that can't live normal lives, are a nuisance, a shame and in everybody's way.

So she arrives home, after having been away on a trip for almost 6 weeks. I had done all the laundry, that was laying in mountains, in the bathroom. Two big baskets, a floor covered in blankets etc etc. I had been busy, going up and down the stairs from the apartment to the washing machine in the basement. Early in the morning, too. When she came back, she said: "People will get angry, that you use so much water. You shouldn't wash so often, they will get very upset with you. One wash per week is the maximum in my opinion."

Did she say it was a good thing, that I cleaned it all away, and took over the washing? Yes, but it bothered her, that I succeeded at something, that she "couldn't" do. At present, we have a power struggle over how many times, I am allowed to wash our dirty linen. I say twice a week, and she resents it. I can only do 4 small batches of laundry each time, and with bedlinen, underwear, outerwear, and towels, two people easily create a small mountain of laundry in no time. If they shower and change clothes daily.

In the past, the bedlinen would rarely be washed, with mine being left for months, sweaty and all, and the clothes would be the same, for days because there wasn't much to choose from. I hate that. I hate myself, when I live like that.

My resolve, to take charge of the housework, instead of agreeing to everything she does and says, is going to be a power struggle. I don't care. I hate living like a bum. I hate having no say in my own home. I hate being worthless.

A tidy home, a neat and clean appearance, goes a long way, in making a person feel at least half way decent. The past 6 weeks alone here, taught me that. It made me feel much happier, and realize a lot of things about my life.

The dishes aren't standing in the sink for weeks anymore, either. I got rid of them and wash several times a day, to keep the kitchen decent.

I need to get out of here, but that's another post. She wants me to get a job or join unemployment to pay for her, when pension kicks in. Right now, we both live on the sale of our family home, and her early retirement. Logically, I owe her, and I would gladly pay a million, if I could only LEAVE this place.

Up until my early 30's, I would give most of the money that I earned to mom and dad. They weren't making a lot, and I desperately wanted to get more food and better dishes and just add to the family economy. That was nuts. My sister was wiser. She saved up and traveled abroad, and when at home, she went out with friends and spent money on making herself pretty. I felt so ugly and stupid, that I hid away instead, and had no savings.

This has to stop. One way or the other.

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It should be so easy to turn my life around. Just get a job (I have no education, other than qualifying for University), and just loose weight, and just exercise and stand up to my family. So easy.

This is an ugly blog. I need to vent. I need to write down things that anger me, to add to my resolve, to work my way out of this mess. Writing in a physical journal could be dangerous, though. It could be found, and I'd have to face the wrath.

So, this is it. My motivation, to get out of here, get out of my mess, loose weight, and somehow get a grip.

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