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I live with my mother. We get along most of the time, probably just because we never really blow up at eachother; I keep my anger and frustration within myself and I guess I use it as fuel for my own self-destruction. I love my mom, but I can't help hating things she does at times. I needed to get these down somewhere, maybe to remind myself of the feelings I get out of these situations, or maybe just to get them out of myself for a little while.

. . . . . .

"So, Linda says that Alex is kind of a heartbreaker," she says. "Yeah," I say, "the whole neighborhood kind of likes him." "No," she replies, "There's more than that. Linda's the neighbor so she knows some other stories. It seems like he goes out with a lot of girls and then just disappears." Of course I don't reply, just burn to myself Fuck you. What the fuck do you know? Why are you telling me this? She continues, "and he's so cute. He better be careful or else someday he'll be a bad person." What the fuck is she trying to tell me? I feel like she's just rubbing it in my face, like i'm just another naive, worthless girl who was pushed aside, thrown away. Well, maybe I am. Is it something to fucking joke around and talk about it lightheartedly?

I hate how she acts about food. She's fully aware that I had/have food issues, and tries to encourage healthy eating. Yet she hides food from me and makes it into more than just "fuel for the body". She helps to create my emotional cravings, my need to eat that food not because I'm starving but simply because it's off-limits. It's hidden somewhere that she thought I wouldn't look, and I'm trying to eat it to spite her. Ha, take that, your hiding skills suck?

I hate how she always comes into the kitchen, or wherever I am, when she hears noises that mean I'm eating. She's blatantly monitoring what I eat - but she won't say anything about it, and attempts acting very non-chalant about it. She's turning it into an even bigger thing by denying that it's a problem than if she would just say, "I want to see what you're eating because it's fucked up and I want to take care of you."

I hate that when I'm fasting, she encourages me to eat, yet when I'm eating, she wants me to stop. If she knows I'm fasting she will never fail to ask if I'm still not eating?! Aren't I hungry?! And if I'm eating normally and have a snack on something I may have binged on before, she'll say "you're not going to eat too much, are you?" or "don't finish the whole box!"

I hate how she judges me for fasting but then talks about how great she feels when she's not eating a lot.

I hate how little appreciation she expresses for what I do. I'm a straight-A student, I have a job, I'm active and I rarely get into drugs and alcohol. She does say things like "good job" and all that. But the negatives are always made into a much bigger deal than the positives. She's always encouraging me to do something active, so I joined a gym. I went for an hour every day for a month and a half or so. I stopped going and she said "well, you were going to the gym an awful lot." Maybe too much, she was implying. It's like if I don't have a perfectly balanced life, she's not satisfied, doesn't approve.

I hate how she doesn't voice her opinion until she thinks I agree with her, or the topic is already in the past, what she thinks is beyond a point of being a potential conflict. Like the going-to-the-gym-too-much situation. Or in the car, I'll turn off the radio and she'll say "good. I didn't like that either." ...meanwhile I never said I didn't like the music. Maybe it was my favorite fucking band. I just wanted to turn off the radio.

I hate how everything is such a huge decision for her. its 99°F with the highest humidity of the year...do we really need to turn the air conditioning on? Let's think about it until we melt into puddles on the floor. Or, let's go to Mexico. We began planning that trip three months in advance. She said it was too much to plan. It took her over a year to prepare to cross the Atlantic.

I hate how she starts projects and doesn't finish them. No matter the size - sweeping the kitchen floor, buying furniture, selling the house...

I hate how many of these things I see myself doing. I hate how I hold the standards higher for her than for myself. I hate how angry I get at her for doing these things.

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