When I was forced out of my mother’s custody in August 2010, I’d always planned on coming back after I turned 18. I postponed it until I graduated high school because I didn’t want to have to change the information in the system (more of a pain than it sounds, trust me). But now, it seems like the tides have turned and I’m going to be right back at my grandfather’s house.
Mom was happy about me moving back in. She told everyone her daughter was finally coming home. I heard her tell people half the time! Apparently, however, that happiness was short-lived. My mother has become poisonous and I honestly think she’s losing her mind. I do my best to put up with it because she’s not like this all the time, but she apologizes just to do it again later. She’s made it clear she doesn’t love me and favors my sister. I still remember how she would deny that when I was pointed it out as a kid. Nice to have the confirmation, I guess, but it hardly means anything when I knew all along.
I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate her. The insane accusations (and I do mean insane!) out of nowhere, blaming me for her troubles, doing just about anything to make my life harder. She really doesn’t care what happened to me, even if it was death! And I’m not exaggerating. She really doesn’t.
I know of the saying “an eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind”, but two can play at this game. In about a half hour, I’m heading out to cancel the layaway we made together. She can have her darn money back and I’ll take mine and get what I want myself! I still question why she even had me if she was basically going to toss me aside like dirt after a certain age.
But you know what? It’s fine. I’m not the only one who’s dealt with a bad parent and the friends of mine who have are turning out to be alright. One got lucky, but I’m not envious. I’m very happy for her.
The stupid thing in all of this? I have my cell phone turned off and you can bet my mother will be calling me frequently and getting mad at me not answering. She has a bad habit of “forgetting” the awful things she does. Well, just like she apparently doesn’t forget what people do to her, I don’t forget what people do to me. And yes, I know I’m not perfect and I do some bad things too, but nothing near what she accuses me of. The worst thing I probably do is…ignore her when she becomes mean, come to think of it.