For the longest time, I assumed that the issues between Mom and I were simply the result of hormones and teenage emo-BS. She constantly criticized me and everything I did. She was brutally snarky in how she spoke to me. She seemed to look at me like I was the enemy, and seemed to blame me for the fact that she got knocked up at 16. I was expected to do all sorts of chores, while Nick and Taylor did nothing - at 15, I was expected to "earn [my] keep." She would do things like buy chocolate bars for the family - well, most of us, anyway: she'd leave the four chocolate bars on the counter to ensure that I would see I had been left out. I became the built-in babysitter again. I was pretty much treated like a live-in nanny with a side of maid.
During this time, she was giving me $100 of the $125 The Donor was court ordered to pay: I was expected to pay for everything but food (unless I wanted something she didn't normally buy: then, I was on my own) - my clothes, school supplies, student fees, shampoo, pads, EVERYTHING. That summer, she told me that if I didn't find a job, she'd send me to live with The Donor. I pounded the pavement every day looking for work until I finally got a job at McDonald's. After a year of spending my paycheque how I chose, she and Brad sat me down, told me they'd been "monitoring" my spending, declared me irresponsible, and confiscated my debit card.
It was at the same time that I was informed that I wouldn't be getting my driver's license until I saved up enough to buy my own car because I wasn't driving either of theirs - they told me this just before my 16th birthday: if they'd told me a year earlier, I could have been saving all that time. I didn't get my license until I was 17. This frustrated me because they'd go for drives and be gone for hours in one of the vehicles, and I'd fret over what I'd do if Nick or Taylor needed medical attention (this was before the day of cell phones being commonplace).
This was the period of "talks" that consisted of Mom sitting at the kitchen table, smoking up a storm, and berating me for literally hours as I stood, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, never daring to speak up to correct her or defend myself. I felt like a coward. There are lots of other little incidents that pierced me like bitter little arrows, but I don't particularly want to dredge them all up.
The reason I said I assumed this was normal teen/parent behaviour is because I now know better. We lived on one side of town and went to school on the other side of town. After school, Nick and I would walk to Bev's (aka Grandmonster) to wait for Mom to pick us up. (Even though it was HER desire to keep me in the same school so I wouldn't have to switch yet again, all the driving back and forth somehow became something else for her to blame on me.) Because Bev seemed so sympathetic, I would pour out the latest slight almost daily. Little did I know that Mom was doing the same.
Bev had me convinced I needed to run away and that I could move in there - she actually had me sneaking my belongings out of the house a little bit at a time and hiding them in her laundry room. She talked about emancipating myself. She filled my head with all sorts of things that sounded wonderful. She's an amazing actress. I clearly remember coming through her door after school one day to find her near hysterics, crying and wringing her hands, as she choked out the message that Mom was "SO MAD" at me and that she was actually worried about me - yet she still let me leave with the woman whose anger worried her... Go figure.
Things came to a head when I was 17-ish. I was supposed to be spending the night at friend's house (and going to work the next day). Her next door neighbours where ridiculously noisy, so I ended up getting up and going to Bev's at 1am so I could get some sleep before needing to be at work for 8am. Just as I pulled into the driveway behind Gramps's truck, my car died (the timing belt had gone).
While I was at work, Brad went over to look at the car and ended up talking to Gramps. (I'm still not sure how Gramps knew of our plan, but knowing Bev, I'm sure she manipulated the situation to make it sound like she didn't want me there). Gramps told Brad that I seemed to think I'd be moving in there, but I was wrong. Brad knew something was up and he was tired of the bullshit, so he called a family meeting.
I got home from work to find Mom, Brad, Bev, and Gramps gathered around the kitchen table. Brad asked Bev if she had told me I could move in with them; she said no. My jaw dropped. I'd heard Mom's stories of Bev being a flat-out liar, but this was the first time I'd seen it - felt it - first-hand. Brad looked at me as I sputtered, refuting her claims of innocence. As the light finally dawned on me, I was heartbroken. I felt like no one wanted me.
It was the beginning of the end for Bev and I. I finally realized that every. single. thing. I'd told her about Mom/Brad/home, she had turned around and repeated to Mom (and I already knew she was sharing stuff that Mom said about me (although I have no way of knowing if Mom actually *said* that stuff, or if it was more of Bev's manipulations)) - it was no bloody wonder there was such a rift between Mom and I.
geez louise. the sheer balls on that woman, to sit there and lie through her teeth like that.
ReplyDeleteBoy. What a story. I've only just read 'em all now. While our tales are very different -- I grad with the kids I went to K with, for example, and was raised by my two birth parents -- the instability and the expectation of self-care are the same. Yeesh.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad we've come into contact. You are quite an impressive writer. Solid.
thank you for sharing more of your story. my heart hurts for you, and Im so glad you are in a different place now. You are very strong, and Im only beginning to understand why. *HUGS*
ReplyDeleteSometimes I read your family posts and consider the possibility that we are cousins or our grandfathers are brothers. I'm only just now repairing relationships with family that I never broke in the first place. Although I'm so so so happy it's happening now, I get little pangs sometimes of what could have been if a few key crazy motherf*ckers hadn't been so in control of everything. Pardon my French :) And big hugs from the Prairies. Hopefully to be the Rockies in under 10 months. :)
ReplyDeleteThis breaks my heart. I am so very sorry that you went through all of this. Big hugs ((()))
ReplyDelete