Our conflict has been known early on as “typical adolescent/parent” dynamics according to “Doctor” Teresa Bolick. Now I look back and saw through the implicit bias against the hiarchial child. For years I’ve been drilled in the “go with the flow” logic when “zigger-zaggers” happened with scheduling. I felt for so many years I’d be pulled by strings and was unable to think for myself because my mother did all the instructing, I mean “programming” me.
She keeps on prodding things down my throat. Such as my mattress and pillows where I cling onto it longer than it needs to be. I guess I’ll be going to Bob’s Furniture sometime soon. But apparently it smells and I know it’s not the first time, but then my mother will then dilute the argument and say she has the same thing. But she had to throw the pillows into the smelly mix narrative today. Ok, I get it, but I won’t tell her why I don’t because she’ll dismiss my reasonings. I should’ve washed the pillows in some capacity during it’s over used life. But I am tired of being controlled because I had been disabled to think for myself.
I bought burgers more than a couple weeks ago, and bought onions and lettuce (yes I am trying to eat greens!) and that was delayed, delayed and delayed because my mother was concerned she had to seriously clean the grill, then she got a some stomach virus and so it got delayed to lunchtime today, then it got delayed until 5:00 pm because she was working through the lunch at home.
Then I got jostled in the brain when I was about to cut the onions and lettuce on the stove to which I said “Jimmy Crickets” (the other name in vein) which triggered her and I admittedly said out of the blue that I was disoriented and didn’t applause at that point. I already apologized for not closing an internal drawer in the fridge no less than a minute before.
After getting doused in gaslighting, after the burgers were cooked, I suggested we eat by the pool. While I savored the meal, I heard my mother moan and bitch about work today and her Teams call she had to be downstairs for. She was moaning and bitching about how one co worker was out but the boss wanted everyone else to be on the call, then bitched about some form of in house survey conducted while my mother was on bereavement leave, but never realized that the reason why she missed it was because she was not monitoring emails. I asked one challenging question to her theory of mind, of which I can’t even remember. I let her bitch, but of course if I do the same, I expect the masculine “fix” approach of generic advice that wasn’t solicited for.
More in part 2.