Mommy Dearest

Today I got a first hand reminder of why I stopped shopping for clothes with my mother 5 years ago.

We decided to stop into Filene's Basement to look at blouses. Seeing that I have close to zero interview worthy clothes, Mom and I are looking for nice things that would make poeple want to hire me. Fine. We looked around for a half hour, I tried some stuff on, didn't like it, and was ready to leave.

But Mom, just as in the old days, went psycho. She became hell bent on finding me clothes in THIS STORE as if there were no other clothing stores in all of manhattan. She spent the next 20 minutes putting together an atrocious outfit that was not my style and that I would never wear, and then asking me to try it on "just for her."

We all know that I have never reacted well to that whole do it for me routine, particularly when the thing I'm trying on is something I already know I will never wear. I tld her I'd try it on only if she swore never to ask me to try anything on "just for her" ever again for the rest of my life. She said she couldn't make that promise so I told her I couldn't try on the outfit.

Then she lost it. She started going off on how I would never get hired anywhere unless i took her fashion advice!!! She went nuts, made a whole scene all because I like to pick out my own fucking clothes!!!

I mean, jesus christ, I'm 24 years old. Yeah I don't have much in my closet to wear to an interview, doesn't mean I have no concept of how to dress on one. She basically went as far as to claim that the outfit I wore on my interview last week was the sole reason I didn't get hired!!! And I'm thinking WOW mom you said I looked great!!! Funny how you're willing to point fingers at something you approved of when you feel defensive.

Anyway, I got fed up and went home...to bed. And haven't seen her since thank god.

Thats why I stopped shopping for clothing with her. Becasue we always end up in a fight because we have different taste. I hate the kind of clothes she picks out for me. And she feels attacked simply because we have different senses of style.

Jesus, i thought the two of us had gotten too old for this sort of nonsense. I thought she had learned to let me be, and I had learned to defer to her wishes. Guess not.

Brought back all the nasty feelings I have for her. Yeah I know the whole thing sounds kinda trivial, but it just made me flashe back to all the harsh words and blame she threw at me as a child. If she did something wrong, she'd blame it on me. If I did something right she would take credit for it. It's as if she is competing with me on some level and I have no idea what we're competing for. All I've ever wanted is her approval, not for doing what she wants but for doing what i think is best.

MAde me wish she were dead. Haven't wanted that in a long time. But...I just realize nothing is ever gonna change between us. She still hates me and I still hate her. beneath all the pleasantries lies the fact that we do not mesh. It's sad...but it's true.

Just Between You and ME

Okay, this entry is part of my big New Age self-discovery kick. This particular chapter started two or three days ago when I began writing about my mother in my SCN journal. After a lot of thinking I was able to trace most of my self-defeating habits and emotional instability back to the abuse she inflicted on me as a child. And I decided that the best place to begin any kind of personal exploration was with the analysis and reparation of my feelings about my Mom.

So today I went out and bought some books about recovering from childhood physical and verbal abuse. I sat down with one of them, read the first paragraph, and immediately began to tear up. It just sounded so familiar, and brought up a whole mess of unresolved feelings. I want so bad to comfort myself, but at the same time I'm really afraid to re-tread this ground. I don't want to relive the feelings of helplessness, worthlessness, and terror. But...God, it's funny. With my depression, I experience those feelings every single day, and while I don't necessarily LIKE them, I know how to deal with them. They are familiar. Maybe my depression is just one way I continue to torture myself, or to operate under my mother's principles.

In "Undoing Depression" the author points out that most of the time a severely depressed or mentally ill person exhibits their symptoms as a result of poor family dynamics. They become the embodiment of the family's problems and display those problems as psychiatric symptoms. I am difinitely that person in my family.

I remember that my mother was convinced I was depressed long before I admitted to it. For at least a year she screamed and ranted about how I was sick and needed help. She would literally drag me out of the house to therapist after therapist in an attempt to convince me that I was depressed. I didn't feel depressed though. I kept telling her I'd be happy if she would just stop treating me like shit, or better yet if she'd let me go live with my dad. But she told me my desire to leave her was just a symptom of my illness. She was the only one who could possibly know what was best for me since I was sick and couldn't make rational decisions.

I faught her so long on the issue because A) I didn't think there was anything wrong with me, and B) because it hurt too much to have her tell me day after day that there was something wrong with me. I mean, let's look at this: by telling me I was depressed she was essentially saying that there was something wrong that needed to be fixed. She was telling me I was defective, that I wasn't okay the way I was, that there was something in me that needed to be changed. Sound familiar? HOW many times have I written those very words about myself? Those are almost daily thoughts. Mom sure did a good job of carving those thoughts into my head, I now live my life as the person she always told me I was: a complete defective.

Still Reading...

Random Realization:

I obsess over people. Romantically. Celebrities (like Mr. Levine down there), and people in my life (like the lovely noog ) who I dream of and admire from afar.

I do this because loving from afar is safer than loving in reality. From afar I can give a peson all my heart without the threat of having my love rejected, or of being criticized in anyway. My devotion is totally appreciated if for no other reason than i have no evidence that it is not.