Messed Up

Today is my mother's birthday. My parents and I went out to dinner. She told us about starting a company...again...for making her wreaths. She met a woman today who markets for people and teaches them how to market themselves. I just couldn't be happy and excited for her. Neither could dad. She's talked about it for years and never even tried. She said that she has to buy more things for this season, because all the stuff she has is mainly for Christmas. We both find it impossible to believe that she doesn't have anything that she can use in her wreaths that's not Christmas. It's just spending more money and bringing more stuff into the house. There's so much that needs to be done at the house, that we both feel she needs to concentrate on that. It's not like it will happen. It's been like this for the past few years. Because we didn't show our enthusiasm for her like she hoped, she turned sour, like old milk. She said some very mean things to dad and me. I went out to have a cigarette, and when I came back in she said, "I'm sorry that you were born....." Whoa. She let me know that I hurt her feelings, but that seems extreme. Then she continued, "to this man as your father...." Ok, mom, tell us what you really think. Then she carried on, "and me as your mother." She got back into what dear Queenie told her about what I said. I could just slap right her right now. Queenie was trying to open the flow of communication. She opened a can of old, rotten, putrid worms. First Carmen said she was going to kill herself. Then she was going to California. She called her best friend to come pick her up, but she wasn't exactly in the mood to get out of bed and drive half an hour to have her spend the night at her house. Carmen said she'd probably be gone in the morning. She's going to go someplace where she's wanted. Where she's loved. She told me that she's going to tell me all the horrible things my father did and what a horrible man he is. That he's only told me lies about her. I don't care if it's your birthday or not. What kind of fucked up things are those to say to your daughter??? She told me one thing, that she told me when I was probably 13. I knew he cheated on her when I was 11. Maybe younger. She told me when I was about 13 how controlling he was and he isolated her from all of her friends. Now she's slamming the door...a few times. If she didn't act like she was 4, then maybe dad and I wouldn't treat her like she was 4. What she could use is a good whoopin'. Or maybe that's just what I'd like to do to her. Lord knows she was abused enough as a child. Dad told me that when she gets into these funks and "oh, poor me" that one time her cousin who lived with her when they were kids said, "I was abused too. I lived in the same house you did." In other words, LET IT GO! Get over it! It took me a long time, years, to get over some of the things that carmen said to me, but I think that I'm finally over it, and have let it go. It sucked, and it was hurtful, and it took a long fucking time, but I think I'm finally over it now. It happened. That's all there is to it. Dwelling on the past doesn't allow you to move forward. I know that.