Personal Rant // Diary-ish-thing Post
Not really much to see here, just expressing my feelings, but, read it if you want.
My mother enrages me sometimes. True, everyone’s mother enrages them at at least one point in their life. However, I’m in a screaming match with my mother three times a month, at a minimum, over her business.
(For those of you who don’t know, my mother owns a small wedding shop. It evolved from a casual women’s clothing boutique, which evolved from a vintage shop, which evolved from a coffee cart that she bought in 2005.)
I quit working for her at the end of December, giving her 6 months notice; I told her in August that I wouldn’t be working for her, come January, because I planned on moving to Portland. Moving to Portland hasn’t happened yet, but I stuck by my decision to leave, and am no longer working for her. She has selective memory, and claims over, and over again, that I never gave her any notice, but I have proof in the form of a witness: my ex-coworker.
So, in her mind, since I am her daughter, I am an employee. Forever. I try to explain to her that, although some people put up with that shit, I am not going to take it. I dealt with it for seven-fucking-years - I am done. I’m done with being ‘fired’ because she’s having a mood swing, only to be expected to show up the next day, as if nothing ever happened. I’m tired of being expected to stay at the shop until 7 or 8pm, when my coworker gets to go home at closing time (6:00), because she wants me to make signs, or some other bullshit. Without pay for those hours, too.
She’s been taking advantage of me for far too long, and whenever I call her out on it, she gets pissed and starts yelling. I can understand that she wants to defend herself, and her business, but she takes it too far. She’s pretty verbally abusive. She’s always saying that I’ll get nowhere if I don’t stick with her and basically do her bidding until I’m on my own. I know that that’s not true, and that I can do better than being ‘mommy’s helper’ at her shop, but words still hurt.
Sometimes she can cut pretty deep. Today, during one of these arguments, she told me to go fuck myself. Luckily, I have pretty thick skin, and I just came back with a quick (albeit lame) remark. But, who knows when my thick skin will finally be sliced open, leaving me in a bloody mess of emotions? I sure don’t know when that will be.
I think, right now, it’s time that I just took a hiatus from talking to my mother at all. I’ve done this before, with no luck. And, I may have no luck, again, as my mother likes to push and pry until she gets her way. But, I think it’s best for my mental health to not give in to the anger for a while. Maybe a week will do.
I just don’t want to explode.