It's a GAD GAD World
Saturday, May 19, 2012
I have a confession to make.

It's about Mother's Day. And Father's Day too, I suppose. But it's May, so I'm thinking about Mother's Day at the moment.

Over the past weekend I saw outpourings of love and affection for Moms all over the place. And I don't get it. I understand that our Moms did a lot for us and that we're supposed to be eternally grateful. Believe me, I get that. My mother would do stuff for me that I didn't even ask her to do, and when I didn't bow down and genuflect every 30 seconds or so she'd bitch about how ungrateful I was. "You don't appreciate me!" was one of her favorite mantras.

I don't understand how one is supposed to feel love for someone who holds that much power over you. I understand that Moms gave us life and (hopefully) food & clothing & shelter & all that. But how can any amount of love/gratitude/whathaveyou repay that debt? And how do you feel gratitude--genuine humble appreciation--when it's constantly being demanded of you for every little thing?

From the time I was very little I sensed that my mother expected a lot from me in return for her being a Mom and that I wasn't delivering. And when I say "very little" I'm talking pre-school. And even at that young age I knew that something was off but I didn't have the vocabulary to express it. (Even now as my 40-something self types this it's difficult to express.) Once I tried to tell her that I didn't feel like she loved me very much. Her response was that if she didn't love me she wouldn't do anything for me at all. As though her love were an obligation she had to fulfill. Maybe she took care of me because that's what society expected her to do, but that's not the same as love. It's not even close.

She didn't get it. She still doesn't. And I doubt that she ever will. And that's why I make a concerted effort to stay away from her. If she hadn't beaten me to the punch and kicked me out first, I would have cut myself off from her as soon as I found a job and gotten out of my small town hellhole.

When holidays came around I would do my duty & buy gifts for my parents, but only because I knew that I would catch hell if I didn't. It was particularly hard when I was poor & struggling & didn't have a lot of money. Once I forgot about Valentine's Day. Well, that's not exactly true. I didn't really forget, it's just that I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I've never had much of a reason to celebrate the holiday--I still don't. After I got home from school that day my mother stormed into my room and asked me if I'd forgotten that it was Valentine's Day. I don't remember what my response was, but she lit into me big time for not buying gifts for her and my dad and my sister. You would have thought I'd set fire to a puppy or something. The next day I bought some meager stuff (meager was the best I could do in junior high with no job and no allowance) and tried to atone. But I knew it wasn't good enough. It was never good enough. I was never good enough.

I wonder if I'll ever know what it's like to be good enough for someone. If anyone will ever be happy for whatever small part I play in their lives. I only know that I don't want to have to do what my mother did to find out--demand it out of them and pout when it doesn't seem like enough.

In other news, my boss and I had a sit-down this week and ironed some stuff out. Things are better. They're still crazy, but it's more because that's the nature of what we do in the office and not because anyone is making my life a living hell.

I also managed to piss off somebody famous on FB. I honestly don't know how or why. I subscribed to his page, made comments where I thought I had something to say, yadda yadda. Then one day I tried to post a comment & got a msg that said something to the effect of "Please post responsibly". I knew that Mr. Famous had had incidents in the past with people being trolls, so I just figured it was a security measure he installed. I clicked ok and posted. No biggie.

A couple of days later, I posted something else. Now FB was giving me the msg "One or more of your comments has been deleted or marked as spam. Please post carefully or your ability to post comments will be restricted in the future." I clicked OK, but this time FB wouldn't let me post at all.

As God is my witness, I honestly don't know what I did to offend him. I'm an intelligent person. I don't engage in troll-like behavior. I abhor trolls. I suppose it's possible I *may* have said something he might have disagreed with, but even if that's the case there's a big difference between someone who disagrees with you and being an irresponsible asshole. And I don't think I'm guilty of the latter.

So a few hours ago I found another way to communicate with him online & I posted an apology. I still don't know what the hell I'm apologizing for, and he's got way too many followers to waste time on one person (especially someone that he thinks is annoying enough to block), but at least I tried to let him know that I wasn't a jerk.

Why is it that I piss off so many people just by breathing and existing and being me?

Sunday, May 13, 2012
No, I did not contact Mr. Reporter's favorite charity. Reason/bullshit excuse? I am so fried right now that I'm going to need every day off I get in the next 3 months to heal/nurture/replenish myself.

Things sort of came to a head near the end of this past week. I don't think I can go into it without compromising my anonymity. But I have a feeling they're going to get even uglier on Monday. And we're all supposed to go to a staff function on Wednesday. Joy. Pure fucking joy.

Remeron is now my new best friend. I need it just to keep from screaming out of my skin. My p-doc wrote me the Rx back in July with 5 refills & I still haven't gotten it refilled once. Now I'm thinking I should but I don't have time to get to the damn pharmacy.

Work is eating me alive. There's something very important that I have to do (ongoing, not a one-time project), and I'm not keeping up. I'm being interrupted with all these other things, and no one understands that if I'm doing other stuff, I can't focus on what I'm doing.

I haven't felt this horrible since I worked at Prestigious University. And as we all remember, I got fired from Prestigious University.

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