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Breaking up with my Mother

I have so much work to do, but I just can't seem to muster enough anything to care. I'm feeling another low point coming on. It's odd. When I'm with people, I'm social enough. I chat with friends and feel ok. But I get back to my cube and just deflate. Suddenly I'm thinking about how I'm going to lose my job because I'm not doing any work, and how I've nothing to look forward to, and how I must seem a horrible burden to everyone. Is there something called cube depression? My cube is cozy, and full of personal affects. I don't work in a hellhole. I just don't get it. Insert heavy sigh here.

I have another thing to sigh about, and it's my mother. She and Estelle are coming up to visit next weekend, and at the suggestion of my therapist, I have invited my mother to coffee-- just me and her-- so we can talk without the constant buzzing from That Woman interrupting us. Mom accepted, a little hesitantly (she's probably expecting either horrible news [like I'm dying] or a wonderful surprise [like I'm getting married]-- so I'll disappoint her no matter what I say), and now I'm obsessing about what I'm going to do and say.

I don't get a lot of Just Mom time, so on one hand I don't want to ruin it with what basically amounts to me breaking up with my mother. And I don't want to break up with her. It's just that I have reached the breaking point with That Woman, and I can't sit by complacently anymore and let That Woman emotionally blackmail and abuse my mother and my family. Essentially, I need to tell my mom that I'm not gonna play nice with Estelle anymore, and if she gets out of line I will call her on it, and that will inevitably trickle down to my mom. And I don't want to do that to her, but I'm in THERAPY because of That Woman, and I'm full of RESENTMENT and ANGER and RAGE because of That Woman and something has got to give.

So this will pretty much mean to Mom a sort of "her or me" ultimatum, and I know she'll pick That Woman. She lives with her, while I am in another state. We see each other maybe three times a year. Whether I like it or not, That Woman's hold on my Mom is greater than mine.

And besides the fallout, I just don't know how the hell I bring this up in conversation. It's not an easy topic to segue into.

I think I just figured out why I can't be bothered to work.

Sorry, sorry. Not a funny entry. To make up for it, you should feast your eyes on this.

2:19 p.m. - 2003-08-06


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