Crazy on me

That's my Christmas card over there. You can see a bigger version on Flickr, if you like.

I was going to try to not write much about my family in this version of my blog, but I might as well. I'll probably delete this one in a couple of weeks when I feel better.

Back when I was writing about my family, mostly my mother, it was because things were very difficult, very bad, between us, and it didn't seem like there was anything I could do about it.

In a nutshell, in case you don't know, I moved back in with her after my Dad died, to help her. I was the only sibling in a position to do that, and I won't pretend that it's completely altruistic on my part.

The problem is, I am not now nor ever was her favorite daughter. In fact, I'm her least favorite.

But lately, the past couple of months or so, things changed. She had a lot of good news, and I began to try to not fight her, no matter what she said to me. To my surprise, she started talking to me... more like a friend. I began helping more around the house — I always did, but I started doing the ironing and vacuuming.

Yeah, things were fine, until last night. She wanted me to help her with something, and the one moment she looked for me, I happened to be on Second Life. Wow, she snapped. Big time. She hates Second Life.

She started screaming at me, banging things around. It was so unexpected, so incredibly unreasonable, so just plain crazy that I couldn't lose my temper, even if it was all directed at me. I tried to just let her rage, knowing that eventually she'd burn out.

Then I saw Six huddling in a corner of her bedroom with her hands over her ears.

I went to Mom. She said (leaving out many personal remarks directed at me), "Get away from me! Don't talk! Don't say anything to me! If you open your mouth..."

But I said, "You're scaring Six."

She said, "I don't care!"

Even so, she calmed down pretty quickly after that.

I just feel so... I don't know what. A very small part of me wants to curl up the way Six did, but I won't. Another part of me wants to say some awful things back to her (and I have things to say, believe me), but I will try hard not to do that.

It will be alright. She is going to a therapist once a week. I have no idea what they talk about. I don't dare ask. I think it helps her.

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