So I've been eating Leibniz butter biscuits, they seem to have less sugar than yoghurt and about the same amount of fat. And I've been eating popcorn and cucumbers. Spending too much time on the sofa really. Getting into this book, the content seems very familiar at this point. No major revelations although sometimes there is a tidbit here and there that is nice to read. Of course there are things that I just won't agree with. End of page 13 author says "I believe almost all mothers harbor good intentions toward their daughters". And I just think well I guess she covered herself by saying "almost all". Part of me wants to say my mother is a piece of shit. It feels wrong writing that it really does. Maybe it would be healthier for me though if I see her that way. One wonders.
My mother frequently seems like she has two personalities, the social polite one and then the nasty one she doesn't show to just anybody.
For some reason she feels like she has to keep in touch with me. I'm not sure why she even bothers, I think it's her back up insurance plan. I'm "the royal little bitch" she think is going to drive her to her appointments when her husband dies or something. You know maybe it won't come to that, maybe she will pass away in her sleep, maybe she will just end up somewhere, maybe her rich brother and sister will figure something out for her. I really do feel some kind of weird stress about what I owe to my parents. I mean what if I died they would be on their own anyways. It's not as if I determine anything that happens to them. Old age was going to come to them no matter what. If I was born or not they were going to get old and by now they should have already figured out they couldn't really depend on me. I mean if I could figure out I couldn't depend on them, they also could figure out they can't depend on me. I guess.
Even though I have given up on her a while ago. I still feel like I haven't realistically defined what she means to me.
I'm just going to keep reading this book. I have the feeling the author probably read this message board as part of her research lol.
I do wonder why can people hate politicians, the pope, a celebrity. But I can't say to myself my mother is a piece of shit. I guess when all is said and done I just need to let go even more. Maybe I still need more distance. I don't even know where I am going with this. Maybe I really need to journal something about a definition, because really if your mother isn't a mother that makes them just another person. Another person but not a mother. A parent by definition but a very vague definition. I mean what if I don't visit her again. Really the last few times I have visited her are few and far between and each time she really does look older. It's creepy seeing your parents age even if they are a piece of shit. I mean time is going to pass regardless of what I do or don't do. Time really does seem like it flys by.
I'm not saying I harbor massive resentment or massive anger anymore. A little bit at least sure. It's just maybe I haven't judged her harshly enough. It's more like I have just ignored what didn't exist. In the end if I were to give it a more mature name than piece of shit maybe I would say conartist. Just a long term con.
I'm just writing to myself here. Just like to write it out even if I'm only repeating the same thing over and over.
To maintain peace with them one has to keep on going along with them on some level. And I guess people do this all the time, they go along or play along with something. I guess it's just the power dynamics of life. It's like going along with an employer when really all you want to do is give the finger and walk away.