I wish I would have always done this.  Sound sketchy and an invasion of privacy, but to know is better than to not know.  I can justify this now because she's under my care and I have to keep her safe.  That is my job.   And if you've been here for any length of time, you'd know that my mother fancies herself a bit of a badass and always makes terrible decisions for herself and everyone around her.  She also lies through her gums.  If her mouth is open (or fingers are typing), she's most likely lying.  I never realized just how much she did this until I started hearing the truth first, and then the lies later.  And that's through listening to her phone calls.  

I don't think she's had a single phone call in over a year, other then when I am not home, that I haven't listened to (well, that's not true, I miss them all the time as I am not always near our home phone).  And believe me, I fucking hate it.  I actually can feel my IQ losing points every single time I listen (good god are her and her friends such dingbats).  

And there comes a point where I say "God, why am I even doing this?"  And then two days ago, I was reminded.  My mother made a plan to go to her old friend's house to go "shopping" with her BFF and her hubby.  Her old friend lived with this hoarder who passed away, and now the lady has a house full of stuff she's trying to get rid of and they were all going over there to buy stuff from her. 

Her BFF Christmas says to her on the phone as my mother starts talking about this "Oh, is Shay coming with?" And my mother, literally screams "NO!"  And then Christmas asked "Will Shay let you go then?"  My mother replied in a real defiant and shitty tone "I don't care, I am going anyways."  Christmas just giggled.  Then in about two minutes she said "Oh, there's books there, Shay might want to come with us!"  Then she buttered me up with really over-the-top compliments that were very obviously fake, and then asked me to go with.  I said okay.  Then she called Christmas back and said "Oh, Shay's going to come with us!"  And Christmas scoffed and said "I thought we weren't going to take her with?"  My mother replied with "No, I didn't think she wanted to, that's what I meant."  Christmas didn't believe her and added "Well, we didn't think she'd let you go without her anyways."  My mother replied "Oh no, it's not that, she just wants to come and see the books".  Christmas started in on her about me, saying "Oh, I was telling my husband that there was no way Shay was going to let you come alone."  But my mother cut her off and changed the subject.  

Sigh.  It's so nice to feel so loved.  And it sounded like so much fun to go places where I am not wanted.  But I did feel this horrible sense of not being able to let her go places with her shitty friends alone, due to her poor decision making.  But my son said to me "Mom, just give yourself a break.  Don't go.  Let them take her and don't worry.  What's the worst they can do?"  And he was right.  So today when she asked me if I was still going, I said "No, I am sorry, I have a migraine."  And my mother got upset.  Not angry, but really whiney.  All I could think was "I heard you SCREAM that you didn't want me to go, but then change your mind due to your own anxiety.  So you don't WANT me to go, you NEED me to go.  There is a difference."  But I didn't say that.  I just kept saying "I am sorry, I can't go."  Good thing it was only thirty minutes before they left, so her anxiety didn't last long.  

I am glad I knew the truth before going.  I do not like not knowing the truth about things before I get involved in something.  I hate finding out afterwards these things.  This is why I listen to her phone calls.  This is on top of my other reasons of keeping her safe and keeping my family safe.  As a child I used to listen to her talk shit about me to my father.  As an adult, I used to listen to her talk shit about to her BFF Christmas when I lived upstairs from her.  She's done nothing but bash me for her entire life.  And now I know she's still doing it.  Granted, this time wasn't anywhere near as bad most other times, but it still wasn't nice.  And then I know she's telling her BFF Christmas that I won't let her go places without me (granted, nobody has ever once asked her to go anywhere, nor is she allowed to drive, so what is Christmas even talking about?).  

I was glad I didn't go.  Sure, she did things she wasn't supposed to, like climb this lady's basement steps (though I asked her if they all went together, and she said yes, which was okay).  But the world didn't end.  She didn't hurt herself.  And hopefully she didn't make any stupid plans with her friends (as far as I know she didn't).  And that's all that matters.  If she did talk shit about me behind my back while she was there?  What can I do about it?  I can't stop her from doing things like this.  And why should I care what two potato heads (or three or four) think of me?  I mean, I care if she's spreading lies again, which almost got Christmas to call elder abuse on me.  But beyond that, there is nothing they can say about me that really matters.  I don't think she did talk shit about me, but she's a notorious fake ass liar, ready to talk horrible shit about you one second and all smiles to your face the next.  So who knows.  

I will say one thing though: I don't understand why I still feel so fucking rejected over this?  Over hearing what these bozos say about me when they don't think I can hear.  Why do I care if she didn't want me to go?  I just hate that deep down, I still want my mother to want to be around me.  I still want her not to reject me.  I wish I could let go of that, but then again, can we ever?  Is it even in our abilities not to feel rejected when one of the most important people in our lives (or who were supposed to be) rejects you?  Is it possible?  I don't think it is.  Even if we tell ourselves it is.  I think deep down, in our core programming as humans, to have our parents reject us is the wound that most likely will never fully heal if we keep experiencing rejection from them.  It's one thing to have it and then to either go no contact or to lose our parents and then to eventually heal from it.  But to experience it almost daily?  Or even at all, no matter how little or much...I don't think that's a healable wound.  I think it scabs over and one day scars, but if it keeps getting damaged with more rejection, I think that the scab comes loose and we feel all of it all over again.  

One could say "Well, if you didn't listen to her calls, you'd never know."  True.  But if I found out later?  It would hurt 1,000x more.  So I'd rather be wounded in small ways now, than a possibility of big ways later.  But also?  It helps me navigate my life with her.  It helps me not be fooled or taken by surprise or be lied to.  And that gives me peace of mind.  

Know that my mother speaks to her friends on speakerphone, so anyone with ears could listen to her calls.  She can't hear what anyone is saying otherwise.  And if my mother were anyone else, I'd go elsewhere and not pay any attention at all.  But she cannot be trusted.  And just like a child who cannot be trusted, she loses her right to privacy.  Granted, I never did this to my own children.  I could catch my oldest son in a lie and I'd stare at him to make him laugh.  Then we'd both laugh and he'd come clean.  One time, he said some really horrible things about me to his father.  He came home crying because he felt so bad.  I hugged him and said he was allowed to talk shit about me when he's mad at me.  That's normal.  And my ex hated me, so he was the perfect person to talk shit about me with LOL  My youngest wasn't and isn't much of a liar.  Being a liar doesn't automatically make you a bad person.  It's why you lie and how badly you could hurt others with your lies, and if you feel remorse or not, that indicates your true nature in life.  My son lies to get his way.  Nothing devious.  He'll fudge numbers on prices to me about how much something costs so it doesn't sound as bad.  Or he'll lie so he doesn't get in trouble.  But he always comes clean and always apologizes.  He just acts out of fear.  He has ADHD and ASD, and I forgive him for lying.  I lie sometimes too.  I lie to him quite a bit.  Not because I want to hurt him, but I lie to protect him from truths he doesn't need to concern himself with (like how much money is in my bank account--if I am truthful and it's low, he will start freaking out about money, etc.).  I also lie to protect myself from conversations with him that are none of his business (again, my bank account, and other things like it).  I don't lie to manipulate, coerce, hurt, or ruin anyone.  I lie because sometimes we all have to lie to protect the people we love, or ourselves.  I lie because sometimes things are nobody's business but mine (and my husband's).  

But not my mother.  She lies about everything.  Stupid things that don't matter, and big things that do matter.  She lies for attention.  She lies to hurt people out of revenge.  She lies to make a pretend life she doesn't actually have.  She lies to make things sound better.  Or worse.  Or more interesting.  She lies sometimes for absolutely no reason at all.  Sociopaths do not need reasons to lie.  Lying is just their baseline for living.  Their lives are not made up of truth.  No, it's carelessly (or meticulously) crafted from a myriad of made up things.  Some are half-truths.  And others are straight up lies.  And some are teeny tiny bits of truth.  But they are always mixed up with the lies.  There is reality for them.  Life is one big fantasy.  Some might say they are the true storytellers of the world.  As they are never not telling stories.  

I am glad to be privy to my mother's stories.  And I am really glad to be privy to the ones about me and my family.  I have lived for more than 40 years never knowing the truth about anything she says about use or the antics she gets up to.  And now I have the ability to.  This is my right as her caretaker and her daughter.  I earned it.  And while some may think it's wrong, I say who are you to judge?  If you have a narc mother, wouldn't you like to know the truth?  So nothing catches you sideways anymore?  So you know about most things before she could do something to make a move against you?  They are always making moves against us.  Always.  Now, I just get a heads up first.  And it's all thanks to her using her speakerphone.  I mean, I think she also does it so I can hear it, as well know that narcs don't really do things without some sort of motivation or another.  

So much of the past 2.5 years has been me spending time hiding things from my mother.  At first, I had to hide ALL my bathroom stuff, as she couldn't keep her hands off of any of it.  Then it became knickknacks, and then food.  It's a weird state to live in.  This also includes myself.  See, my mother, as you quite well know, has zero boundaries.  She will steal your stuff (once I found two brand new books I had just bought in her bottom drawer), put your stuff where she wants it, and she loves to steal your time.  If I don't hide everything from her, she will covet it.  If I go shopping, she will look through what I bought and want everything for herself.  So my entire life is now filled with sneaking around.  She will ask to keep my things and I if I say no, she will try to guilt trip me.  So instead, I just hide everything.  I don't even tell her I am leaving the house (someone is always home with her) because if I do, she will either ask to go with (so she can shop until my bank account drops) or will ask me to buy her 100 random things.  I can't even have my bedroom door open because if I do, she will invade my room, even though she knows she's not allowed.  For her, if it's in her sight, she will not only want it and ask for it, she will take it if she can, usually without asking.  I feel like I've lived this life for so long now that I don't know how to live otherwise.  I don't even know what that would look like anymore.  The kind of life to have the freedom to do whatever I want again, in my own house.  I get so annoyed certain places are so cluttered in this house (like my room), but that's because I am hiding my items in a space they aren't supposed to be because of her.  

I know this is not permanent.  I know this.  But it still feels like I am wasting so much of my time living in such a way that I hate just because I have to take care of her.  But at the same time, it's benefitting us financially.  And with that, I need to remember just how temporary this truly is.  And that I need to take full advantage of this temporary situation, rather than complaining about what I don't have.  Back when I had this?  This, freedom?  We were struggling so bad financially that we had to resort to living under her rule just so we could afford groceries.  Back then, I used to dream of taking my power back.  And now I have my power back, and all I am doing, once again, is complaining.  No, things are not perfect.  As long as she's in our lives it won't be.  But it's a billion times better than it was before.  It's even a billion times better than it was just two years ago, or even a year ago.  I need to remember this.  And to see the gift we've been given, even though it's wrapped up in a stinky turd.  But that turd keeps getting less figuratively stinky the more literally stinky it gets.  So we are headed in the right direction.  

Time to buckle down and make this work to the best of our ability.  Time to take a step back and see everything from a broader perspective than the short-sighted one I keep looking out from.  

Sometimes I know I write in...what's the word?  Vague terms?   But know this is because it's for me to read later, not really for the masses to understand in the moment.  Or maybe you do get it.  Maybe you're in the same boat as me?  I hope not, but if you are, you're not alone in this.  

Okay, time to go make some actual plans on how to tackle what's coming next (which is cleaning the garage out and purging our whole house still--I do this, a little bit at a time, but I want it done faster!).  Also, what's coming next is getting more money and moving to bigger place.  But first, we need to purge and get our chickens into new garage coops LOL 

The last time she got angry with me, she said "I have to constantly beg you to get the thigs I need done!"  Because I was late getting her cigarettes to her and I didn't do her laundry in the exact moment she wanted it.  Then last night she said "Can you PLEASE leave my cigarettes out at night??" in a very exasperated voice.  I said "Yes, I will."  Then she started threatening me.  "Because if you don't, I will wake you up!!"  Like I would answer the door early in the AM just to give her the drug she's addicted to.  "I almost woke you up this morning!!"  Again, I would not have answered the door.  But she asked my son at 8am to go in my room and get them, and he did, and she was fine.  But she said all this around 7pm at night, as though I hadn't given them to her all day.  So I added "Wow, sounds so horrible!!" in a goofy voice.   Because she honestly sounded like she was so exasperated and annoyed.  She said "Well, it IS!!  I mean, I have to beg for them, and then I ask myself, what am I even doing??"  The funny part is, I know she has a stash of cigarettes in her drawer, so I know she wasn't out.  She was just acting like she was completely out to guilt me, which never works, btw.  And I don't normally forget to give her her gross nasty cigarettes, just once in awhile I do.  And when I do, oh "WHOAH IS ME!!  IF I HAVE TO ASK MORE, SHAY IS MAKING ME BEG FOR THEM!"  She just loves to complain and play the victim.  

But this new thing, this new thing of saying I am making her "beg" for the things she wants done or the items that she wants, it's just cutting.  I know what her problem is.  She used to force me to make her the center of my attention.  If I didn't give her ALL my attention, to the point of ignoring my own children, she would punish me.  Nowadays, she gets ZERO of my attention, other than when I have to (to take care of her), and nothing extra, so she has to find different ways to punish me since she doesn't have any power over me anymore.  

You'd think I'd be rejoicing in the fact she has no power over me anymore.  But instead, I am just dealing with the anger and processing the grief of being abused up until recently.  

My husband said yesterday "Make her beg you?  Ha!  You know what begging is?  When she takes her daughter and grandchildren to the grocery store with her, knowing damn well her daughter doesn't have money to buy her own groceries, and then playing a game if everyone treats her right, she'll buy her daughter's family groceries that day.  If not, she'd wait until everyone was in line with their carts to say 'Oh sorry, I don't have enough money to buy you anything today'.  Like, why did she even force you to come with?  To play games with you like that?  She treated you like someone applying for a job, but the only way to get that job was to beg for it by lavishing the boss with praise and attention.  Now THAT'S begging!"  

She has made me beg for my entire life.  When my father died, he had no will, so I got ZERO money from his death.  But my mother?  She had enough to live on for TEN YEARS, all the while spending money like it was going to expire.  She wasted thousands and thousands of dollars and lost so much of it and STILL had enough to live on for ten years.  But she still made me beg for help with our bills and groceries.  She easily had at least $500,000.  She renovated the house.  She invested some of it.  And she spent 90% of it on QVC (a home shopping network) on random bullshit she always gave away.  She spent the last of it on a trip to Alaska with a bunch of lesbians (I say this, because my mother didn't know she was with a group of lesbians when they went LOL).  She had money oozing out her pores and still dangled it in front of me and my family, who were making around $25,000 a year (that's super poor in America, for anyone who doesn't know).  We did not have enough money to pay our bills and feed ourselves and keep our lights on.  And she loved it!  She loved us being poor and her being "well off".  Sure, she didn't pay down her loan or anything, so she eventually lost my childhood home (good riddance).  But she could do whatever she liked, which usually meant QVC and going out to eat.  She loves being the person to make others beg.  

She never once offered anything to me.  She never said "Let me pay your electric bill!" or "Oh, let's go get your family some groceries!"  She always said "Oh, it's our monthly trip to the grocery store."  And she forced me to go with, because if I didn't, she wouldn't buy us groceries on any other day.  And I always had to go with.  If my son went alone with her, she wouldn't buy us anything.  "Your mother didn't want to come with, so I'm not buying you guys anything" she'd tell him.  Screw the fact I had a migraine or whatever.  I was to be at her beck and call and if I didn't conform, I didn't receive the things my family needed to survive for that month.  It was a game to her.  She loved to see us suffer (reminds me of Mother Theresa--who was a sociopathic murderer who loved to watch people die in pain).  Because if she didn't get what I was supposed to supply her with, then we suffered and it brought her joy to have that much power over us.  

I just want to put her in a home and be done with it.  I know damn well she will call me every five minutes to try and occupy my time, but I will set hard boundaries with her once she's in a home.  I will say "I will visit you once a month, that's it, don't ask me for more."  She will end up hating me in the end.  But that's okay.  I wasn't supposed to come back into her life anyways.  She was always supposed to end up hating me.  I only came back into her life because we became homeless.  Had we not?  I'd never would have seen her again.  And you know what?  I think it would have been okay.  I mean, I am very very glad we came back and I've been tortured for the past four years with her.  It's been healing in some ways.  Moving in with her in 2020 was beyond torture and every single one of my childhood anxiety triggers came back.  But I dealt with them and became stronger.  I am not the person I was in 2020.  Granted, I am also worse off in many ways, too.  But in other ways, I am so much better.  I've learned a lot too, about home ownership.  And things you need to keep a home from falling apart.  Also, I would have never owned chickens had we never moved here.  So that's a plus.  Now I have 10 (I had 15, but we sold 5) chickens, maybe soon to be 9 because I hate one and scream profanity at her a lot (she's mean and bites me every chance she gets!!).  And we have pets we'd never would have gotten if we hadn't moved here.  So, like I said, I am grateful.  Not for the abuse.  But for everything else.  

And mostly, I am grateful I got to take away all her power.  But I am really?  When I say that, I realize those words do not resonate with me.  I don't feel better having all the power in our relationship.  I thought I would.  But as it turns out, I am not a shitty person who loves being in control of others.  So it doesn't feel good that she requires either all the power in a relationship, or none.  The only way you get to have any power over yourself or anything with her is to take it all.  And that's bullshit.  I don't like that.  Which is another reason I need her to go in a home.  I am not this person and don't want to have to be forced to be this person.  I don't want to be in control of another adult.  But I have to be, since she a) can't take care of herself and b) if I don't, she will take control of me and my life.  

Here is a scenario of what I mean:  I leave to go to the store.  She will guilt me that she can't come with.  And I don't take her with because she will spend all my money.  "Just tell her no!" you say.  Okay, I'll do that.  And then watch her be a horrible bitch to me the rest of the day.  It's just easier to not take her to begin with.  I allow her to go to certain stores, once a month.  Like, resale shops.  But she spent $100 last month at a resale shop on random bullshit, then immediately wanted to go to the dollar store to spend $100 more.  It's ridiculous.  The more I take her with, the more she wants to go.  So I have to sneak out.  She's not allowed to go to grocery stores or dollar stores, or anywhere that sells food or cleaners.  Because she will fill her cart with cleaners and candy.  She has diabetes and I have chemical sensitivities.  We want to Walmart last fall and she filled her cart with huge gallons of apple cider, cakes, cookies, donuts, and anything else you can think of.  It was soon after that I took her debit card away because she can't make proper decisions on what to buy.  So now, instead of transferring money to her spending account, I just pay for everything myself.  It's fucking tedious.  

If it was up to my mother, she'd still be driving, and spending all her money to point of being homeless. 

I've taken my power back in other ways, too.  To the point, that's I've pretty much gotten all of it (though not quite all).  But she still knows how to cut my wounds open.  She still knows how to be cruel to me.  Telling me that I am requiring her to "beg" for things, when I have ADHD and I just freaking forget sometimes.  Also, I am fucking busy a lot, and don't always get around to the things she wants done (like laundry) on the exact day she wants me to do it.  It happens.  But not to her.  She apparently still thinks I should give her all my attention and she should still be top priority.  

Anyways, after rambling all that, I forgot to add that I gave her her cigs two nights ago (I make them, btw, to save money--it's over $120 a month to buy her cigs, but it costs me maybe $30 a month to make them...it's a pain my ass, but it's worth saving the money) with a sticky note that read: 

"Asking me more than once to do something is NOT begging!  Please stop acting like when I forget to do something it's on purpose!"  

And she said NOTHING about it.  No apologies.  Nothing.  If she brings up the begging thing again, I will remind her how many times she's made ME actually beg for things I needed from her.  I will also ask her if all the times I reminded her to put the draft snake in front of the door in winter last year or how many times I have to put signs up because she refuses to do the things I ask, if those things are ME begging for her to do what I ask?  I will say "Well, I've certainly actually have had to beg you to do things, so I don't think you realize what that word actually means!!"  I she says "Oh I just forgot!"  I will say "Well, obviously I am forgetting to do the things you're asking, too."  

But that other part she said, the part that said "then I ask myself what am I even doing here?"  As though her "begging" me to give her cigarettes when I forget to leave them out (one time I just ran out of stuff and didn't have money to buy more until the next day) is beneath her.  As though she's so special in this life she shouldn't have to ask more than once.  But deep down, I know exactly what she means by that.  She means that she's playing pretend with me, just "allowing" me to take control of everything for her: her finances, her doctor's appointments, the house, everything.  That she, at any time, can just take all the control back.  That I am just doing stuff for her.  Like somehow I am just her house manager and she can fire me at any time.  If I do a bad enough job, she'll just take control back.  You know how I know that?  Because the last time she blew up, a couple weeks ago, she basically said that.  

She said "You know what, I will just call and get control of my own money again, because I am sick of having to beg you for things!"  This was over the fact I didn't get her cigarettes out to her on time because I had run out of money to get more tubes.  I had filled up on her box with like 10 cigarettes, instead of whatever number she was getting at the time.  I said "I am going to the store to get more tubes so I can make you more, I ran out of tubes yesterday, today we get paid so I am going to buy more.  I am not punishing you or anything."  I was rude about it, not nice in my response.  Because it pissed me off.  And then I said "I'd like to see you try to get your finances in order, you wouldn't have the first clue how to."  And she said "Oh yes I will!"  I laughed.  She said "You never tell me anything, I didn't know that!" (about the cigarettes tubes).  My son said "Because, grandma, you don't understand anything she ever tells you!"  And when I do tell her, she either obsesses or is rude to me, so I don't tell her things anymore.  

But yes.  That's what she meant and thinks.  She thinks that I am just playing pretend here, I guess.  You know what?  I wish I was.  I wish didn't have to do all this shit for her, but I have to.  It's my fucking job.  Until she goes in a home.  Which I cannot wait for.  

Okay, I need to go clean my chicken coop and collect eggs and mulch the leaves.  It's nice out today at least.  Then to clean the garage to make room for two new winter chicken coops.  Party time. 

I've been wearing my Fran Pants the past few days.  Fran Pants are jeans that I named after my ex-mother-in-law because these are the only types of pants she wears.  They are thick jeans, the kind with no stretch.  They are wider-legged than normal, and are flared at the bottom.  I love me some flared leg jeans, but I prefer stretch jeans because they fit better and don't feel so bulky.  And they look nicer, too.  Whereas Fran Pants make you look at least 25% thicker than you really are, because the jeans are 25% thicker than they should be.  And they're heavy, so they have a tendency to pull down on your waist, so if you wear them for more than a couple days, they will start falling off your hips and you will need a belt.  Right now all my other pants are dirty (and one pair just doesn't fit me anymore as I lost weight) so Fran Pants it is.  Oh, and many types of Fran Pants usually have decorative back pockets, like sparkly or something similar, because Fran is a fancy motherfucker and needs her jeans to show it.  But the ones I have luckily don't.  Another issue with them is that the front pockets are too short to actually hold much of anything.  So if you're shoving your phone in your Fran Pants, it's going in sideways.  I mean, they're kind of comfy and they fit good after a washing, but I honestly can't wear them without feeling like I am imitating Fran.  

Let me tell you about Fran.  And yes, Fran is her real name.  I don't care about not sharing her real name because I don't care about Fran, because Fran is one of the most overt narcissists I've ever met in my entire life.  

• She's rude, stupid, and doesn't listen to anyone when they talk.  But then again, neither does my ex.  It's like they're pretending to listen, but then as soon as you're done talking, rather than comment on what you've said, they just say whatever it is they have been thinking about in their brains while you were talking.  
• Fran also has to be the center of attention at all times.  One time, I was talking to my ex's aunt, and we were talking about the fatigue you get from being sick.  I had no idea at the time I had POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), but I knew something was wrong with me.  Fran busted right into our conversation and said "Tired??  You guys have no idea what it's like to be as tired as I am!!  I have CFS!!"  His aunt and I just looked at each other and laughed.  
• Fran is a drunk.  Like a horrible drunk who makes really, really stupid decisions while inebriated.  Whether it's being rude and loud as fuck, carrying around babies while stumbling, or just laying on the floor for three days after finding out her son was gay (not my ex, his brother), she just cannot fathom what it's like to be an actual adult and not act like a idiot when she's been drinking.
• Fran has no idea what boundaries are.  When her kids would get pimples, she would walk up and take her fingernail and dig it into their faces where their pimple was.  She also talked about everyone's sex life as though it was any of her business to do so.  One time, she very loudly made fun of her gay son's best friend who was visiting and told everyone the girl had a "spastic colon" so we all better be nice to her. 
• Fran cannot STAND it when someone does something better than her.  Her and I used to grow and paint gourds together.  When everyone would buy my gourds, she would get very angry and say "Oh, I bet they're just taking them home to paint over them!"
• Fran is a homophobic racist.  When we used to do craft shows together, she saw these two black women who were selling candles and proceeded to make fun of them the entire time, very LOUDLY.  She wasn't even drunk.  I had to go apologize to them afterwards, but they refused to speak to me.  I never did another craft show with her again.  When the next year rolled around to go, she said "Oh, are we doing the show again?"  I said "Are you kidding?  After what you did last year?  Humiliating me like that?  No way.  Never again!"  She was so freaking angry at me for that.  But what did she expect?  She also used to HATE gay people, but when she found out her son was gay, she had a literal mental breakdown about it.  Now he's her favorite son and she's all about "the gays" (as she puts it).  Some could say "Wow, she's changed!"  No.  She's a fucking narcissist and now she can get attention from this son, because her other kids hate her.  Narcissists have no actual side they want to be on, it's just whatever suits them at the time.  It's all fake: the hatred and the love.  
• Fran thinks she's fancy.  She wears her Fran Pants, fancy tops that shows her cleavage, has 10,000lbs of makeup on everywhere she goes, and takes several hours to do her hair.  Which is why wearing my Fran Pants makes me feel weird, because I am not like that at all.  They make me feel fake. 
• Fran used to love to ruin Christmas and my ex's birthdays for me.  She would find out what I was buying him and she would run out and buy the same thing and give him his gift before I could give him mine.  If I could go back in time, I would confront her publicly about this.  But she's a narcissist, so there was no way she wouldn't make herself out to be innocent and everyone would think I was the jerk.  But she's still around, so I still have time to confront her. 
• Fran LOVES to shame her children.  She's a horrid bitch, so she doesn't give two shakes of a frog's ass if she looks like a loving mother or not.  I mean, she will lie and say she is, but she's horrid.  She recently told my ex that she he was a piece of shit for giving up the rights to his children.  So he called me and asked me if I felt the same.  Just so you know, my ex and I don't speak much.  He and the kids have a tiny bit of a relationship, but I stay out of it.  They are adults now.  I don't need to intervene.  But he called and I said "Listen, you made the best choice at the time for everyone.  And the kids are happy because of it.  Your mother is there reason you were put in the position to give them up anyways.  She told me you all did drugs in front of my children.  I now know this isn't true, but she called me and got it into my head and told me to never let my kids over there again."  Now, all of that is true.  She did say that to me.  But even though she was lying, I am grateful to her, because my ex was a bad father to my kids and him giving them up was the best thing he could do.  I didn't say that to him though, but she had no right to tell him he was a piece of shit for giving them.  Because that was the BEST decision he ever made as a father.  NOT giving them up would have been a piece of shit move.  Things happened at his house that never should have happened to my kids.  Giving them up was generous of him, as he's a bit of a narcissist too, and giving them up meant giving up his control of them.  She also shames her daughter to this day for her bad choices.  Like constantly.  And she lives with her.  How horrible that must be.  Fran just fucks up everyone's life she's involved in.  And yet she still thinks she's #1.  
• Fran is a horrible grandmother.  She's given up on my kids completely.  Which is good for them, because they hate her.  And not because I told them to.  But because she treats them like garbage.  When they were little she used to complain all the time to me "You're always at your mom's house!  Why can't you bring the kids over here?"  So, when I left my ex, he had custody of the kids half of the time (it was summer and he was laid off of work at the time).  He'd bring them to his parents house for 3-4 days a week.  So when he'd do this, his parents would pack up and leave!  So much for wanting to see the kids.  But then as they got older, the less and less she wanted anything to do with them.  The icing on the cake was when her husband, their grandfather, died and she completely ignored them at the funeral.  Then again, so did their father.  They felt like outsiders at their own grandfather's funeral.  The whole family is filled with assholes.  From top to bottom.  But luckily my kids don't need them, as they have me and their actual father, the man that raised them, to love them and care about them.  

Thank you to Menards for having a sale on all of the Halloween decor the day before Halloween so I could afford to buy enough stuff to finish off our yard!  It ended up being a smashing success!!

Our neighbors now know we are weirdos, but hey, at least they know what kind of weirdos we are! 

Two things I learned this year: 

• Dressing up is fun, but unless you're attending a Halloween party, don't worry about putting on makeup or doing anything fancy, because the children who come to your house only want candy and do not give a pile of leaves what you look like.  This took a LOT of pressure off of me!  Every year I dress up super fancy, but this year I decided to just throw on a witchy shirt and a witch hat and voila!  Instant costume!
• It's okay to wait until the last minute to get everything done.  We didn't have a choice this year, as it was windy AS FUCK all week, as well as raining and whatnot.  Then I went to Menards on Sunday and bam!  All the outside decorations I could have ever wanted!  On sale, for 40% off! Our trick or treating started at 5:30, and we were done at 5:15, and I still had to take a shower! hahaha!  And it all worked out as the best Halloween ever!

I warned her not to do it.  I said "Do not cut your hair, don't even try it!  I will do it whenever you like."  Of course she never asks me, because that would mean she needs me.  She wants to make me fix it when she messes it up.  So then it's my choice anymore.  I will feel obligated to fix her mistakes.  Funny thing is, I didn't last time and I won't this time, either.  I warned her.  She did not listen.  So she has to live with the consequences.  I did have a haircut in mind for her, as she looks like a crazy person with long hair.  I was going to give her a cute wedge style cut.  But now I am not going to do anything until she needs it cut again. 

The reason she cuts it herself is that I ONLY cut my own hair.  I never go and get it done because nobody does it the way I like.  I also cut my hubby's and kids' hair, too.  She feels as thought she is the hairdresser in the family, even though she hasn't done hair in more than 20 years.  But she thinks she can still do it.  On top of that, she thinks that if I can cut my own hair she can cut her own hair, too.  Most people, hairdressers or not, cannot cut their own hair.  I can because a) I've practiced for a billion years to get good at it and b) I don't care if I fuck it up, I'll just fix it.  She can't fix her hair, so I am always stuck fixing it.  She used to go get it done, but she sees me doing mine myself and she thinks she's better than me (even though she really knows she's not--she's got a really bad tremor and dementia).  It's pride.  Which is the downfall of the narcissist.  Anyone who refuses to accept the reality of aging?  Is a narcissist, plain and simple.  "I can still do this thing I've always done!!" even though they can't, not even a little bit (like my mother and driving--which I do not allow her to do).  

Also, I will be on crutches for at least two weeks, if not longer.  The tears in my left heel are getting so bad that I can barely walk anymore without screaming out in pain, so I have to give it time to heal.  I also have a boot to wear if I need to.  Fun.  But it's better than being in pain.  Though I do not want to explain to my mother why I am on crutches as it's none of her business.  We'll see how I can get around that.  

Recently, mother has taken to screaming at me the moment I wake up to go pee in the morning, sometimes as early as 6 or 7.  She knows damn well I am not awake yet, but she insists on screaming out my name over and over again to ask me questions or ask for favors, or to ask me to buy her stuff.  It's like, why can't she wait until I am fully awake?  But I really think that is a dementia thing more than anything else.  Today, she woke up me at 6:30 am and I've been awake ever since, feeling like total crap.  Ugh.  I need to be upfront with her and tell her to shush until I am actually up for the day.  

Well, that's about it.  Pretty boring this week so far.  At least the wind has died down up here.  I think it lasted for an entire week!  I looked outside and it felt like I was playing Stardew Valley!  Which was pretty cool, but made it so I could not put up Halloween decorations until now.  Oh well, at least they'll be up in time for Halloween :)  

Okay, off to bed.  I hope I'll be able to sleep.  

Nobody ever tells me anything.  Granted, I am not anyone's number one person in these situations.  But it feels as though I am nowhere on anyone's list.  But then again, I guess that's my own fault, as I removed most people from my life many years ago.  But this particular person, I reconnected with a few years ago.  I would think that would maybe be a reason someone should have contacted me to tell me about this.  But again, that feels horribly selfish, considering what happened.  

Okay, so I had this best friend when I was in 9th grade.  She was in 10th grade and then we started hanging out, and she introduced me to all her cousins.  And she had a LOT.  One of them was my old friend from second grade who ended up becoming one of the closest friends I ever had.  Granted, she was a raging narcissist, something I had no idea about at the time.  As adults, this BFF of mine told my soon-to-be-husband's family that the baby I was carry was not his.  This almost ruined my life, and did ruin the life of my children, up until this day (though most of that is my in-laws' problem, not hers, but she started it).  Anyways, I stopped being friends with her because of that and lost contact with all the cousins.  

But then my old best friend, that crazy bitch's cousin, the one I was BFF's with in 9th grade, where this all started, contacted me and asked us to go play board games at this dude's house.  The dude was her sister's boyfriend, and even after the sister and him broke up, we stayed playing with him for a couple of years.  I pushed to be friends with my old friend again, but once her sister dumped him, she stopped showing up.  She was married to this great guy (or seemed like a great guy) name K, but they divorced.  When I asked why, she was odd about it and never explained it to me.  She tried to get me to work for her, but when I said I wasn't interested, she stopped all contact with me.  

In high school though, we were all good friends and partied together and had so much fun.  She ended up pregnant before any of us and I was there right after her first was born (and her second!).  I saw both of these little babies in the hospital and her oldest became my little buddy and I adored him.  As an adult, I found out her son grew up even more awesome and was kind and sweet and nice and good.  Her youngest had horrible anger issues, and was born with intermittent explosive disorder, which made her life pretty difficult.  I didn't get to know him much as a child, as both boys got taken away from her and put in the care of their very abusive father.  How that happened?  I have no fucking clue, as it takes a LOT in our town to have your children taken away from you as a mother.  For all I know, she gave them up (there was talk of neglect back in the day, some of which I witnessed myself).  My own sister gave up her children, all three, just so she could go have a new baby with another guy.  So, it does happen.

But she got custody back after proving the father was abusive, and that's when all broke loose with her youngest.  But the oldest adjusted nicely and even was honorably discharged from the military after his service was over.  But in 2019 he died.  

And nobody fucking told me.  

Not even any of the cousins or her sister.  I've run into these people a billion times since 2019.  And not one fucking word.  Did they goddamned forget??  

As for my old friend, she's on social media posting pictures of herself all the time, looking happy and trying to be sexy.  Now, it's not my business how someone grieves, but what the fuck?  There's pics of her oldest son, but not a single one of her youngest.  Wow, that sounds familiar, doesn't it?  Just because he has emotional difficulties doesn't mean he's not her fucking kid.  

I am trying REALLY hard not to hate her right now.  But I do.  She left that kid to ROT with her ex and the only reason she got him back?  Was because his brother saved him.  He wanted to live with his dad, but she KNEW he was a horrible man who hurt her kids and let him stay anyways.  

The wind is so insane right now outside that I feel it's matching how I feel inside.  The rage I feel that little J is dead and that his brother had to have the life he did due to his mother's horrible mistakes.  I married an asshole, too, but protecting my kids was my NUMBER ONE priority!  Why wasn't it hers?  And why did her son have to die not having his mother for his entire life??  Why does this this happen??  

I know, I know, we're not all equipped with the skills to be parents.  I get it.  But god damn.  He was twenty fucking two years old.  He deserved better than that.  So did/does his brother.  

I think I will have a private Samhain service for him.  Yes, I know, I am an atheist, but we still need ritual, too.  

I need to go decompress now.  It's after midnight.  I will put on Friends until I feel better.  

Sigh.