Norman Bates I’m not…yet…

What happened to the good old days when parents let their children grow up, grow out and get out? AWAY, I mean.

I’m tired of being put in the middle of my mother’s supposed financial difficulties. After the behaviour I saw this past summer, I just couldn’t give a shit anymore. Why did she need to borrow money from my brother to go to various baseball functions, when I was paying for them? Why did I need to be made to feel guilty for not being a better “baseball mom”?

Why can’t she just start taking responsibility for her own behaviour and the symptons of her condition, and start taking control? I swear, if it gets any worse, I’ll apply to have her panelled for a nursing home. I’m done feeling guilty for being born, and I’m done being her whining board. Perhaps if she’d start paying her bills instead of trips to the States and shopping and my gods people, smoking as much as she does…she could pay things off instead of blaming us. After all, I’m 34 and have lived on my own, or pretty much on my own for 17 years. If I can learn how to pay bills first, and play later, why the hell can’t she? And don’t tell me old dogs new tricks either.

Am I being too harsh on her? I don’t think so. People that really know her, and see through her martyr bullshit know I’m not. What I am, is done.