Now, I am okay with people hating it.  I mean, not really, but I will try to be.  But the only way, most likely, my family will get ahold of it will be if it becomes popular for any reasons.  Since I am not too fearful of that happening, I think it'll be okay.  

I am not quite halfway through it yet, but close.  And I've only been in editing mode twice, I think.  So that's really quick.  The only issue is in my second round of editing, I am not sure if I am going to really change it up by making it more palatable for the reader, or if I will leave it the more stream-of-consciousness style, which is very conversational, but sometimes gets too tangenty.  I guess I won't worry about that part until the second round of edits.  Right now I am fixing repeated passages (as I wrote the chapters essay style and then put them together at the end), typos, missed words, etc.  Just that kind of stuff.  I will go over content in round two.  

Then, I am so FUCKING ADHD that I stopped mid-editing and started a new memoir (though it's one from my list) because this memoir is giving me ideas for that one.  Sigh.  Then I quit, because I knew it would stop me from editing completely, and now I just write down notes as I have ideas about what to write in it (rather than actually writing it).  

As for my house, I installed three home security cams that I can see on my phone (my youngest has them on his phone, too).  And WOW do they work well!  Crystal clear pictures, too.  Speaking of that, I almost literally left writing this to go review those on Amazon.  Sigh.  NO!  BAD SHAY!!  STAY ON TASK!!!  Today I peeked on my mom eating dinner, only to see her surrounded by three of my four dogs, one was sitting on the chair next to my mother, as she was feeding them homemade macaroni and cheese from her fork (part of her dinner), and then eating more herself.  Off of the same fork.  I couldn't help but cracking up LOL  She loves my dogs and they sure do love her.  Now I know why haha! 

She's been better lately.  But she asked me to get her a couple snacks the other day, and I came home with a bag full of drinks and snacks for her.  I also did her laundry, bought her a TV app so she can watch HGTV (it's called Philo), and bought things on her wish list she's needed and/or wanted for a bit, all in the same day.  So she's super happy with me.  That will wear off soon.  But for now, it's nice to have her so calm.  I mean, I always do those things for her, but I usually space them out.  When I do them all at once, she's overloaded with happiness and thinks I am "the best daughter ever".  Sigh.  I will take her soon to get her haircut, too.  I will call tomorrow to see if the salon down the road has an opening.  Never mind, just checked their prices, and nope.  We will find somewhere else to go.  

Tomorrow I am going to buy and install two games for her on her computer during dinner, and during that time I will be installing the parental control app I am signing up for.  So I have locks on the all doors she cannot enter when we either aren't home or are busy elsewhere in the house, I have security cameras to keep an eye on her, and now she'll have a parental control app on her computer.  Which is something she desperately needs, as her dementia seems to be progressing and she's making seriously poor decisions online.  Also, I need to follow those directions to get into her registry to stop Microsoft Edge from reinstalling again.  Also, I've been checking her email every single day and deleting and unsubscribing from any life insurance policy companies that send her mail.  And there has been many.  I am VERY surprised nobody has called from the place.  She must have not given out our number, thank goodness!  

But her friend Christmas did call the other day.  And during that call Christmas said she'd come pick up my mother this spring to bring her over to her house to see her new kitchen.  And then she added "Well, if Shay will allow me to drive you!"  And my mother replied "Nope.  She'd never go for that.  She wouldn't let me go with anyone!"  I literally laughed out loud, as she just recently went to her friend's house, and had Christmas and her husband drive them all over there.  I stayed home.  So, um, what are they both even talking about?  

So, I got angry.  But then I really thought about what was going on.  My mother doesn't want to ride with Christmas.  She used to always refused her offers to drive them places back in the day.  And every single time Christmas has asked to drive her over, she's always said "Oh, Shay will take me."  She is not comfortable with other people driving, other than me, my son, or my husband.  And when I had her to go to her friend's house without me, she almost had a meltdown over it.  I could see the anxiety on her face, but I had a migraine and could not go with, even if I had wanted to.  So, her saying that shit to Christmas is just her using me as her scapegoat, but not really in a bad way.  But rather, the way a child would use their parent as an excuse for getting out of doing something that gives them anxiety.  Which is what I used to tell my own children to do when they wanted to get out of doing shit with their friends.  "Just tell them I said no".  And that's what my mother is doing, just without my permission.  And now that I realize that, it doesn't hurt my feelings as much.  But I still don't like people thinking bad things about me that are untrue.  Especially when I take care of my mother, WHO IS ABUSIVE TO ME QUITE REGULARLY, and do the best I fucking can, only to be thought of as some kind of tyrant asshole.  I really hate that.  And I hate that Christmas is SO fucking stupid, that she believes her, even though I've talked to about this stuff before, and she knows better.  

But, I tend to forget, just like my mother, Christmas has the IQ of a potato.  So, while I feel she should know better, she honestly doesn't.  She "forgets" everything, and always has.  It's a codependent trait to forget when a narcissist does something horrible, or when they lie.  I've even done it myself before.  It's called "compartmentalization in relation to toxic abuse".  I just made that term up.  But it's a real phenomenon that happens all the time, I just don't know the name of it.  It's when you literally completely forget something bad that someone has done, as a coping mechanism to protect yourself.  You compartmentalize their bad behavior into box one, and in box two you can just live and pretend like everything is normal.  I grew up with my mother doing this to the point of having a meltdown fit if anyone ever dared to try and open up box number one.  I think part of it more than just a coping mechanism, though.  With narcissists, I think it's like a forced "forgetfulness", because their fantasy world is where they want to live, and if anything deviates from that fantasy world, they just shove it into box one and seal that motherfucker shut with fifty pounds of tape and glue.  Whereas the rest of us, we just were brought up that way and sometimes it happens accidentally. 

Like in 2018, when we came back from Buttdonkey, MO, where became homeless, and had to break my no-contact with my mother and move upstairs from her.  A few months later, after going through monumental mounds of shit with my mother (and trying to survive with no car, no furniture, no food, and no money), we "conveniently" forgot we were very low-contact with Mr. Brooks' parents, too.  OOPS.  For some reason, we just started acting like everyone was fine and sent them birthday cards and mother's day and father's day cards, and whatever else.  It was only when they didn't send any back we remembered: oh shit, we all agreed that nobody was going to send cards anymore and we were going to speak to them only as sporadic as possible.  We both felt crazy.  Like, how could we forget that?  Both of us?  But we did.  After our terribly traumatic incident, we just shoved all those other years with his parents into box one, and totally forgot it existed.  Bummer.  

But we're all back to normal now.  So that's good.  No more cards and very little contact.  Just the way we like it.  Phew!  

So I am not sure what I am going to do about Christmas believing this about me.  I am not sure why I care so much.  Yes, I hate people thinking evil things about me, especially when I am doing the best I can with what I have (a narcissistic, abusive, and demented old lady to take care of).  But not only that, what I fear is her telling others this, and then doing something to take action against me.  I would rather my mother be in a home than me having to put up with outside dumbasses coming in and thinking I am holding her hostage or being controlling.  I mean, I am controlling, but because I fucking have to be.  She's got dementia, and she can't be trusted to do things on her own.  I wish she could.  I wish she were still normal, both physically and mentally, and living far, far away from me. But she's not either of those things, and this is what I am stuck with.  I don't want to control her.  But I have to to keep her safe, and everyone in this house safe from her.  I just wish Christmas could see that.  Not because I don't want some potato thinking bad things about me, but so I don't live in fear she's going to do something stupid about it (like she almost did last time).  Sigh.  I don't need that kind of stress.  

But if I correct her and tell her the truth about my mom having anxiety, she will tell my mother what I said, because, like I said, she has the IQ of a potato.  Even if I tell her not to.  So I guess I am stuck just letting them all talk shit about me and think I am holding my mother hostage in our house.  YET, if that were the case, why did I let her go with her a few months ago alone?  

Good grief.  I am so tired of this.  

But whatever.  I just need to stick all of that crap in box 9 3/4 (which is the box you put shit in you don't care about and throw it on a train to Hogwarts) and move on.  

I just need to keep on living my life, editing my first book, so I can release it, then I can edit book #2, release it and all the way to #4.  And then keep writing, because these fuckers just keep giving me things to write about. 

Ha.