APRIL 8
My mother's cat had been having issues with constipation, and I'd told her several times that he would need a laxative mixed into his water for the rest of his life. He was 17 and his insides couldn't be expected to work the way they used to. She clearly didn't trust my advice, because not only did she take him to the vet and receive the exact same advice, but we ended up at the vet again after that for the same reason.
When the vet tech asked for details, my mother kept emphasizing that she had left her cat alone with me and my husband for four days, implying that we must not have given him the laxative while she was away. She was trying to shift blame when he was likely already impacted before she ever left. She was trying to look good for the vet and ease her conscience.
I was not going to be blamed for neglecting a cat I loved and cared about. When my mother went to the bathroom, I told the tech the truth. She wasn't giving him the laxative. When she came back, they asked if they could do some blood work, but my mother refused because it cost too much. She never liked spending money on her animals. One of our cats lived its life with a fractured leg because she didn't want to do anything about it.
When the vet tech asked for details, my mother kept emphasizing that she had left her cat alone with me and my husband for four days, implying that we must not have given him the laxative while she was away. She was trying to shift blame when he was likely already impacted before she ever left. She was trying to look good for the vet and ease her conscience.
I was not going to be blamed for neglecting a cat I loved and cared about. When my mother went to the bathroom, I told the tech the truth. She wasn't giving him the laxative. When she came back, they asked if they could do some blood work, but my mother refused because it cost too much. She never liked spending money on her animals. One of our cats lived its life with a fractured leg because she didn't want to do anything about it.
APRIL 17
I had a full load of laundry to wash, and she was using the washer as a hamper, something she knew annoyed me. I took all of her clothes out of the washer so mine could fit, and she came out of the kitchen and griped under her breath, "really?!" I answered her back with, "yes, really!" She argued, "you're doing a load anyway!" and came to look at my laundry. It was a load of whites with a couple of throw pillows which had small sections of light blue on them, so she yelled, "those aren't white! I've washed your clothes with mine before!" So have I, when there was enough room in the washer.
I still don't understand why this was such a big deal to her. Maybe it was because she's lazy and didn't want to have to do her own laundry.
I still don't understand why this was such a big deal to her. Maybe it was because she's lazy and didn't want to have to do her own laundry.
APRIL 23
My mother had recently asked my husband how many guns he owned and, surprised by the question, he asked her why she wanted to know. She took that as my husband giving her attitude, but he told me later that the question made him uncomfortable because he didn't know why she wanted to know, or who she would share that information with. He'd done nothing illegal or wrong, so it seemed like a strange question to ask out of the blue.
She had also asked my husband to do an inventory of my brother's guns, despite having already done an inventory when we moved in. My husband had taken pictures of each gun and taken down their serial numbers, giving them to my mother when he was finished. He'd been too busy to conduct a second, unnecessary inventory.
We kept all our firearms in a gun safe, including my brother's. My mother didn't have access to the safe, and that's the way she wanted it, because she was afraid that if she had another seizure, she may use her gun and unintentionally hurt herself or someone else in her postictal state. My husband and I suggested she sell it since we didn't want it and she didn't want access to it, but that ended up being a reason for her to consider us thieves.
I overheard my mother on the phone with my brother who's in China. She started talking about his guns. She said, "[my husband] better not have done anything with them. I need to make sure they're still there. Nobody has a right to your stuff. They gave me pictures of them, but they don't mean anything because I haven't seen the guns with my own eyes." She thought, and was putting into my brother's head, that we stole and sold his guns. We were not so hard up for cash that we would risk our rights and freedom to commit a FELONY. The guns were in the safe, where they'd always been.
After that awful exchange, which probably alarmed the hell out of my brother, my mother went on to tell him that I'm "so mean," to her, that me and my husband were "ungrateful and cruel," and then told him that I'd gotten a job. She said, "she finally got a job, some martial arts place, but it's only part time. I guess it pays for their $350 classes, who the hell knows?" The classes were about $300 when we started going, and I'd told her that, but mine were free once I began working there. And that "only part-time" job paid exactly what my last full-time job did, which was a pretty huge step up in my eyes. Ya know, not that she ever bothered to ask my about my work.
She made it crystal clear to my brother that he was not to speak to me. We never talked anyway, him being her golden child and all, but she just wanted to ensure that he wouldn't come looking for answers from someone who would tell him the truth. I knew the game she was playing.
She had also asked my husband to do an inventory of my brother's guns, despite having already done an inventory when we moved in. My husband had taken pictures of each gun and taken down their serial numbers, giving them to my mother when he was finished. He'd been too busy to conduct a second, unnecessary inventory.
We kept all our firearms in a gun safe, including my brother's. My mother didn't have access to the safe, and that's the way she wanted it, because she was afraid that if she had another seizure, she may use her gun and unintentionally hurt herself or someone else in her postictal state. My husband and I suggested she sell it since we didn't want it and she didn't want access to it, but that ended up being a reason for her to consider us thieves.
I overheard my mother on the phone with my brother who's in China. She started talking about his guns. She said, "[my husband] better not have done anything with them. I need to make sure they're still there. Nobody has a right to your stuff. They gave me pictures of them, but they don't mean anything because I haven't seen the guns with my own eyes." She thought, and was putting into my brother's head, that we stole and sold his guns. We were not so hard up for cash that we would risk our rights and freedom to commit a FELONY. The guns were in the safe, where they'd always been.
After that awful exchange, which probably alarmed the hell out of my brother, my mother went on to tell him that I'm "so mean," to her, that me and my husband were "ungrateful and cruel," and then told him that I'd gotten a job. She said, "she finally got a job, some martial arts place, but it's only part time. I guess it pays for their $350 classes, who the hell knows?" The classes were about $300 when we started going, and I'd told her that, but mine were free once I began working there. And that "only part-time" job paid exactly what my last full-time job did, which was a pretty huge step up in my eyes. Ya know, not that she ever bothered to ask my about my work.
She made it crystal clear to my brother that he was not to speak to me. We never talked anyway, him being her golden child and all, but she just wanted to ensure that he wouldn't come looking for answers from someone who would tell him the truth. I knew the game she was playing.
OVERVIEW
In April, my mother continued setting up for my banishment from her family by isolating me from yet another sibling. My brother was easy to turn because of our always-strained relationship.
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