I was excited to have my mother come to help me decorate the new place, and arrange the furniture and all of that. I've never really had much experience with that, and it was nice to have her there to help.
If she could just understand what the word 'help' means.
She completely took control. Yelling, screaming, telling me to stick my Coke can up my ass. Really. I'm not even lying. See I sat a can of Coke on my table, and it got knocked over. She got extremely pissed at me, and when I asked her where I should have sat it rather than on the table, she said, "You should've stuck it up your ass."
I ended up leaving in tears. Nothing I did would suite her. Everything I did was wrong. I basically ended up leaving her the front door key, taking the boy, and telling her to lock up when she got finished. Realizing that I should have stocked up on Xanax I left, and came back here. I am still really hurt by her attitude and words. Today was supposed to be a kind of special day for me, and she turned it into a day that I never want to remember.
But, that's just how my mother is.
Which makes me even more thankful that tonight I will regain the key to my freedom, and tomorrow I can take myself and my son from this negative environment. It is no surprise that I have been diagnosed with Depression. If anyone had to live in the environment that I am used to living in, then I'm sure that would be the case.
Yes, she bought me a lot of stuff for my place. Yes, she helped me out immensely, and I probably could not have done it without her, but that doesn't give her the right to talk to me like trash.
My whole life has been this way. My whole fucking life.
I've never been good enough. I've never done anything right. I've never been as good as she is, and I never will. That's just something that I have to live with.
One more reason that I'm glad this is my last night in this place.