So I just got off the phone with my mom and to say she annoys me is a huge understatement. She really. Fucking. Annoys me. See, my mom is an alcoholic. Has been one since before I was born. No matter what happens to her, no matter what me or my brother say, she won't stop drinking and denies that she drinks at all (she could be drinking vodka from the bottle and tell you that she doesn't drink and she would believe that lie). I hate talking to her. Especially when she's been drinking. If I do talk to her, I try to do it before 10am because there's a little less chance that she's been drinking yet (yeah - she drinks all day and night).
I've grown up around this so you'd think I'd be used to it by now, right? Wrong. It's a chronic, insidious type of trauma, one that compounds. Most of the time I'm angry/distraught/annoyed/saddened for awhile and it passes. Sometimes it takes longer. And sometimes I spiral, remembering my childhood. At any rate, it sucks. Big time. So I really try not to talk to her. And, unfortunately, she has no friends. No one she can talk to. Her and her husband fight all the time. Her own mother is succumbing to dementia. So what does that make me? Her therapist and friend. Her confidant. A role I DON'T FUCKING WANT. And a role that it's not fair to put me in. I'm not her fucking therapist but she treats me like one. I told her today that she should go to marriage counseling, that I couldn't help her sort out her marriage. She kept venting to me. And this is while she was sober - you can't even begin to imagine what it's like when she's been drinking. I just don't answer the phone anymore.
I'm sick of listening to her and dealing with her. I really am. I want to cut her out of my life but I can't. She's my mom and I feel horribly guilty for feeling the way I do. Cutting her out would make me feel even worse. As much as I dislike her, she's still my mom. Even though she's toxic as fuck. So I space out when she talks to me, don't fully listen, turn my attention elsewhere. Because I just can't deal. Every time we talk it's all about her anyway. She rarely asks how I'm doing or how my hubby and son - her grandson - are doing. All she talks about is how horrible her life is and how much her and her husband argue. I don't fucking care.
And I can't bring up her alcoholism because in her mind she doesn't drink and therefore denies it and gets all offended that I would say such a thing. I can't win. I can't fucking win.
In other news, I'm still horribly depressed. My Lexapro seems to be doing nothing. I wasn't terribly hopeful that it would do anything, but still, come on. Some days I have a hard time pushing through and I end up napping. When I'm asleep at least I don't have to deal with what I'm feeling. It's my only escape. I have no motivation for anything. I have things I need to do, things that I would like to do . . . but no motivation to get anything done. I mindlessly scroll social media or I sleep. That's what I do. And it sucks.
I have therapy next week with Mike again, and see Dr. Marciniak in 2 weeks. We'll see what's next I guess.
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