The Other Side Of Anger

So, I’m doing okay with my songs to sing in my head, my ability to stop the eddy that leads to the whirlpool better and faster and I’m even more hopeful now than I’ve been in months/years even.  Mom on the otherhand is acting, I’m assuming, like I used to when I was angry to either give me a taste of my own medicine or to try to get the response/action out of me that will make her the happiest.  The house is messy.  She wants it fixed so she can feel more comfortable.  She feels like she’s been cast away like garbage and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

I know that’s harsh.  And not very Christlike either, but honestly she can bite me.  I’ve been staying up late waiting for her call in case she needs help going to use the bedside commode, or needs something.  After last weeks stress and shampooing the carpeting, and all the good things that are happening to me right now, I’m a little, well exhausted and cleaning house is the very last thing I want to do when I am in that state.  She is snarly, growly and very sharp with all her words.  Pretty much, I assume, what I was when I was in that frame.

It’s not pretty seeing my reflection in her behavior.  I’ve been talking to her a lot about what I’ve been going through.  She first said she had no idea, and now that she’s had time to take my words and apply them to her skewed memory, she knew something was wrong and just didn’t know how to help me.  Before, that would make me angry, but now I just find it funny.  The narcissism wouldn’t allow her to not know, and now that she does know, it will be all about how she was at a loss to help me, to eventually she was about ready to call the padded wagon to come and take me away.  That should be coming soon.

I wish I could get rid of her ‘anger’ or as I like to call this fugue she’s in a temper-tantrum.  But it’s something she has to do for herself, I can’t make it better for her any more than she can make it better for me.  What a big fat juicy dill pickle I’ve found myself in.

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