My Mother III
Apparently I don’t communicate, because I don’t say much. Everything needs a comment. Or two. Or ten. Or at least five minutes of a monologue.
I made a mistake of admitting to having drunk two beers tonight, and I immediately was informed of how beer is fattening and how many calories it contains. Ok, whatever, what’s your point of saying that? No point at all. So why did you say that? And then there was the monologue of how I treat her badly and she’s afraid to say anything because I might get upset, and how she is a victim (oh, she can play the victim very professionally) and how she cares and how I don’t care and how I don’t communicate at all, and how she communicates with the whole world, and everyone tolerates her except me (“because they’re not assertive enough, mom”), and how I only think of my own needs and I don’t at all think about my family’s needs.
Mom, I only said that I didn’t like what you said and how I don’t like such comments, and you go on about how I am selfish. Look where your monologue is heading.
Silence.
Offended expression.
Every time I would like to say something important to her, I feel that if I tried, only a long scream would come out. I feel like screaming, very loudly and for quite a while. So I don’t say anything important. When I sometimes force myself to, She Feels Offended.
Where am I going
When you drink a lot of alcohol with people you barely know, but you like working with them and drinking with them is fun too, because you talk about important stuff, you suddenly realize a lot of things that you were somehow unaware of for a long time.
Like, that this temporary job is one of the best things that have ever happened to you and you can’t imagine yourself without it.
Like, that when you finish it, everyone is going to go their separate ways and you probably won’t ever work with them again, and they probably won’t even keep in touch, and you desperately don’t want that, because you’ve grown attached to them.
Like, that you don’t really know why you’re doing with your life what you’re doing, and you’re doing it because it’s right and everyone expect you to, and you promised a lot of things to certain people, but you’d rather be somewhere else doing something entirely different, being different than you are.
