Yesterday my parents invited me to join them for lunch, and like a moron, I went. Money’s been really tight for me lately and I mentioned to my dad a few weeks ago that the smart thing to do would probably be to move back in with them and save my money. Apparently he told me mother this and she was all over me from the word go. “You know you’re turning 40 soon and you need to be saving money. we aren’t going to have much to leave you when we pass.” Ok, not once have I ever inquired about inheritance. Honestly as long as there’s enough for whatever kind of funeral they want, I don’t care about it. And I’m hoping that that is far enough away that I really don’t need to worry about it right now.
My mother, on the other hand, would not let it go. every other sentence was, “You know you’re going to be 40 soon.” Yes, mother, I know how old I am. I hadn’t managed to forget since you last reminded me – 30 seconds ago. As someone with a long history of depression and anxiety, having the fact that I’m turning 40 soon thrown in my face repeatedly really doesn’t help matters. Yes, I know I’m turning 40 soon and my life has amounted to a big fat zero. I never married, never had children, and I don’t have a 6-figure job. I’m living paycheck to paycheck and one big emergency will ruin me financially. I know I’m diabetic and have lived with cardiomyopathy for 12 years. I know as I get older my heart condition is only going to get worse. I do not need my mother to point all of this out to me. But the simple fact is that I moved out to get away from her need to incessantly remind me of what a dismal failure my life is. My life is hard, and it isn’t going to get any easier, but by God I’m going to live it the way I want to, as best I can, without being stuck under her thumb. She’s just SO worried about me and my dismal failure of a life. Well I’m sorry Mom but you’re controlling me and dictating every move I make is not going to help me. In fact it may just push me off the edge that much quicker.
I love my Mom, but I moved away to get away from her incessant need to belittle me. Yes, I know what all SHE had accomplished by the time she was my age but I am not her. She doesn’t get that. Even though I’m struggling financially, until the big disaster hits, I’m going to stay right where I am. As far as I’m concerned, moving back in with my mother is a concession that any hope I have for happiness is officially over.