Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Saturday, March 05, 2005

Mental Health -469

I've never claimed to not have issues.
This is a major ramble/vent and I'm not even going to go back and revise, and I feel like typing potty words in all caps, so just DEAL.

I was getting ready for work or school the other day (it's all one big blur) and I was doing my thing, mindlessly brushing and cleaning all body parts and appendages that needed brushing and cleaning, when I glanced in the mirror and saw my "mother."
I immediately slammed the mirror open and felt sick.
I guess it should be expected. I'm getting older and there is that whole heredity BULL shit....
Anyway, I was shaken. The mirror scares me.
It's rough to resemble the one person you NEVER want to become.
In part, I think it has to do with the fact that she is spewing her way back into my life.
All of her (shit) stuff has been sitting in my guest house since last July. Fine. Whatever. Small price to pay for her to be GONE.
With my younger sister getting married, the liaison(my sister that the "mother" now lives with) calls and tells me that the "mother" needs some items, i.e. passport and temple dress, and would I be ever so kind to find them and mail them?
After silently feeling pissy about it for about a week (sure leave all your shit at my place and then ask me to sort through it when you need something, because I have all of the fucking TIME in the world) I dutifully went out and SEARCHED the places I was instructed to look. Not there. Called the liaison and informed her of such.
Tonight, I get home from 9 hours of health care provider, blood borne pathogen, CPR, First Aid, recertification (so as you can imagine I'm feeling just peachy) to find my older (lesbo/nurse/kick ass) sister here. The liaison and the "mother" called and asked her to come and find the things she needs.

Oh just FUCK off already.

Two syllables...sounds like "Don Tire".

3 Comments:

  • At Saturday, March 05, 2005 7:01:00 AM, Blogger Miranda said…

    I'm sure there is a good reason, but tell liason sis to get her happy ass over there and pick up the "mother's" shit because you ain't no god damn storage unit. Then set a date to have Goodwill/Waste Management come take it away. Fuck, if its important it would be gone. You are so not a storage facility.

    Damn, I cuss. A LOT.

     
  • At Saturday, March 05, 2005 8:36:00 AM, Blogger none said…

    (((((Keri))))

    I feel for you. Some New Age Freak told me we choose our relatives before we are born. I told him myself better have a good excuse.

    Miranda┬┤s idea is good

     
  • At Saturday, March 05, 2005 11:40:00 PM, Blogger Phoebe said…

    Oohhhh, that's good. I would test the waters by telling her that you had to send the stuff off to Goodwill -- just to see what the reaction is. Then maybe just do it.

    I keep seeing my mother in the mirror a lot. Her words keep jumping out of my mouth too. Words I swore I'd never say. I'm doing and saying things I fought against my whole life. It's like coming back home, and it's starting to not bug me as much anymore. I even laughed tonight at the memory I have of riding in the back seat of the car with my little brother. We were holding balloons and squeaking them. Mom said to stop because it sounded like fingernails scratching on a blackboard. We squeaked with more enthusiasm. So without a word, she reached her cigarrette back and put the lighted end on each balloon and popped them.
    It's now a treasured memory.

     

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