Mother's Day =[

You know you don't have a good relationship with your mom if....
You end up in a fight with her on mother's day.  =[

It started off with the usual:

Me:  Happy Mother's Day!  *hug*
Mom:  You're fat.  Lose some weight.
Me:  I still love you even though you call me fat all the time.
Mom:  Really?  *jokingly*  Get away.  I don't have any money.

Of course this is completely ordinary so I just get on with it.  I ask her if she needs help in anything, she tells me she doesn't, I know if I don't do anything she'll get mad, but she won't say anything.  Ugh...  Typical girl thing.  Why can't they just say what they're thinking?  Anyways, I ask her how she's been doing, what she's been up to.  She tells me about work, new stuff, etc.

I guess the fight was really my fault.  I addressed the big issue of why she can never say anything nice to me. It went something similar to:

Me:  Why is it that the first thing you always say is that I'm fat?  You never say 'hi' or anything else.  You never ask about how I'm doing.  The first thing you tell me is that I'm fat.
Mom:  Who else would say that to you?  I'm the only one who would tell you that you're fat.  Everyone else would just say you look good.
Me:  I mean, you can always work that into a conversation.  You could tell me that after you ask me how I've been doing.
Mom:  I'm only telling you the truth.  I'm telling you that you're fat because you are fat and you need to lose weight.  Do you think I would tell these things to strangers?  I'm telling you because you're my daughter.

This conversation went on for a while, where both of us try to say the same things in different ways with neither of us giving in.  I don't know who lit the match, but it exploded.  My mom told me how difficult it was to raise me because I never listened to anything she told me to do.  She used the whole me moving out without telling them and how I decided to waste away my money on rent when I could have been saving it.  Interestingly enough, she also brought on how, as an adult, I have to make my own decisions and learn to be responsible for myself, and my terrible circumstances were of my own doing.  I don't think she understood what she said contradicted herself.  I replied with how loving a child, as a parent, isn't just putting food in their mouth and clothes on their back, but also being there for them emotionally and getting to know them.  I told her that I know how much money I'm wasting by living by myself, but even if I ended up homeless, I would have moved out.  Either that or I would have died in the house.  I also told her how me moving out was me finally taking responsibility for myself so I had the chance to make my own decisions instead of being forced to do things I didn't want to do.  My mom responded with how there are worse mothers out there.  How some mothers beat their children because they didn't do anything for Mother's Day morning.  How she would take better care of me if only I did what she told me to do.  Again, neither of us were willing to move from our stance.  I want a mother who would care more about me then the money in my pocket, clothes on my back, food in my stomach, and my resume.  My mother wants a daughter who is completely obedient, does everything she tells her to do, dresses prettily, always has on a smile, and is good for the family reputation.

That was the light going up the fuse.  This was the bomb:
Me:  Is that all you really care about?  How obedient I am?  You don't know anything about me!  Anything.  You've never known anything about me.  Do you even know what my favorite color is?
*silence*
Mom:  So?  Do you know what my favorite color is?  You don't!  You think I had time to take care of you? You try raising three children and pleasing a husband.  I didn't have a good mother to take care of me either!  You try being nice to a kid that doesn't listen to you when you're tired out everyday!

I knew it had exploded, so I tried to cool it down a little.  I tried telling her that I moved out because of dad and not anything else.  If dad wasn't there I wouldn't have moved out.  I was hoping she'd understand because of what she and I had been through because of him.  But she repeated how moving out was a waste of money and how I didn't care enough about saving my money to stay.

Looking back, I think it was her way of justifying having stayed with my dad all those years.  Looking back, it's because we grew up in different eras.  Money was everything to her.  Money meant food, clothes, and education.  Without money, she couldn't do anything.  Having a husband, even a terrible one, meant money at her time.  For me, money isn't everything.  I believe that God will take care of us financially.  He won't let us starve.  I need to be free from my dad's constraints in order to live a better life.  Just having money cannot provide that.

The conversation went on with me telling her how I don't even know my friends' birthdays and I came here because it was Mother's Day and I wanted to do something for her.  How she knew how cold of a person I am usually and I just really wanted to try to do something.  She didn't have to respond angrily.  And how sometimes I really don't know if what I'm doing is right or wrong, but she should just tell me instead of being angry.  She responded by telling me how her being angry means I'm doing things wrong, and if I really wanted to help, I should just clean the kitchen.  So I did the dishes and left.

I always thought that having given birth would give you that motherly instinct, where you want to protect the child more than anything.  That you would love the child automatically.  I guess that's not really true.  I mean, I used to believe that being a parent would make you immune to bugs, so you could kill them right away instead of screaming and looking for help.

I guess what I really want are some parents.  Sometimes I get tired of taking care of myself.  It's like I've been taking care of myself forever.  My parents are there, and they're pretty well off now.  Couldn't I just take a break every once in a while and have someone to rely on?  I guess not.

Maybe I should stop trying to get my parents to understand me.  They refuse to try and understand me, and I refuse to be an obedient robot.  Does someone want to adopt me?  Anyone?


On a side note, it's not really surprising how dysfunctional my family is.  We're all sociopathic on different levels.  My dad can only think of himself, and doesn't see the pain he's inflicted on his family.  My mom only thinks of herself and can't seem to connect to even her own children.  There's me, a bit on the extreme side, with my cases of torturing animals when I was young.  I also tend to only think of myself and how my family doesn't offer me anything.  There's my youngest sister, who's very logical and seemingly lacking of emotion.  Then there's my middle sister, who's surprisingly very normal compared to the rest of us.  I don't know how she grew and thrived in such an environment.  Maybe it's because she is normal, and that's the kind of child my parents wanted.

Another side note:  My favorite color has changed multiple times over the years.  My mom could have said any color she could think of: blue, green, red, yellow, orange, pink, or black and it would have been the right answer.  It just saddens me how she couldn't think of even one.  Even I knew my sisters' favorite colors when they were younger.  I wonder if my mom knows theirs.