and a very naughty child at that. You can't tell her she is ever wrong. You can't suggest she shouldn't feed her dog seven times a day. "How many dogs have you ever had?" she'll ask. Well, I have a dog, and I don't feed him all day long and all kinds of junk, so I am pretty sure I know what I am talking about.
She is so angry that we took her car away from her. Her 89 year old friend informed her we were horrible children for doing that to her, and there is nothing wrong with her. NOTHING WRONG WITH HER!!! She can't even carry on a conversation, but obviously she should be driving.
She is so mean to my nephew who has given up his life to be there for her. He moved in when he was 18 to make sure she had someone at night, and now she accuses him of never being there. Even though he is only gone when he is working or at school. She is cruel to him in a way I never thought she could be cruel.
It is hard for me not to wonder if her sweetness all her life was just some sort of act, or some sort of cover for her true feelings.
I always thought my parents were so happy, but now she never speaks of my dad. When she does speak of him or his family, it isn't with great love. In fact, when I was researching my dad's side of the family on Ancestry.com, she asked me why I would care about that side of my family. Her side is the only side that matters. She really said that to me!!! I had been so excited in my research, but after that comment, I hung my head and cried.
I don't like my mom at all. Spending time with her is a chore that I try to avoid at all costs. I have wrongly placed the weight of her care on my sister using the reasoning that I have a job and my sister doesn't. I know it is wrong, and I have a great deal of guilt about it, but I know if I had to do it, I wouldn't survive. I have to drag myself over to my mom's house a few times a week for a couple hours at a time. If I had the choice, I would never go.
I am such a horrible person. I know this. Trust me, the smile I plaster on my face for the world isn't real. My real look is one of constant grief and unhappiness. I am so tired of being so unhappy. I am so tired of the fake me being the one everyone sees. I don't even show my husband the real me, because when I've told him before how I feel, his response was, "You shouldn't feel that way." So I pretend I don't. I pretend that I love my mom, and love going to see her. I pretend that everything is okay. When person after person asks me how my mom is, I usually lie and tell them she is okay. I feel like I am at the end of my rope, and I don't know whether to hang on, or tie it around my neck.
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