The Rotten Tree

Published January 10, 2017 by dividinguplife

My mother was in one of her moods last night. I can usually tell within the first thirty seconds of any phone conversation that we have. I have to mentally brace myself for the bullshit that’s about to commence. 

Mom: I don’t understand why your brother won’t talk to me. I mean, did you tell him what I said??

Me: Yes, mom. He’s a grown ass man, though. I can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do. 

Mom: I just don’t get it. What have I done?? What did YOU say to him to get him mad at me?

Me: I’m sorry, what?? Where in the hell did that come from? How does this shit automatically jump to what I did?? 

Mom: Oh my god, calm down. It was JUST a question. I can’t figure out any other reason as to why he won’t talk to me, unless you said something to him to piss him off at me. 

*sighs* … I know what’s going on. I know why my brother won’t talk to her. Not long after my brother got married, she decided to tell some people that he was screwing around on his brand new wife with a girl he met in his EMT class. She said he put the girl on the phone with her to talk to her, was lying about where he was when he went out at night to EMT class, etc etc … Once my brother found out, he decided that was it. No more. Our mother has done more than enough in our life to warrant being cut out of it. My brothers fathers side of the family is hardcore Baptist. They don’t put up with that infidelity shit. If word go around that he was cheating on his wife, the gossip mill would travel a hundred times faster than normal Sunday gossip.

When my ex-husband and I were having problems, she told him that I had an orgy in her bed with six men. He told her he’d burn her house down, with her in it. It made me giggle. It still does. 

Or that one time she told a guy-friend of hers that had moved to another state, that I had cancer and she couldn’t pay for my treatments. He sent her hundreds of thousands of dollars for my treatment, until I found a letter in her drawer and called him and blew the top off of the whole thing. I was 15 then, I think. 

Christmas of 2008 she told me and my brother she had breast cancer while we were upwrapping presents. She didn’t. She never has. I mean, she’s told us she’s had all kinds of cancer, but when asked for proof, she won’t provide any. I’ve talked about all of this shit before, but I swear it still blows my mind. 

As a teenager, I was “too fat” and she wouldn’t buy me jeans. I was 5’9″ and a size 10/12. She slept with anything that had money and could pay her way to what she wanted. She cheated on my step-dad with a drug addict that we had to live with for the next seven years. That man pawned all of my jewelry, my bed, my clothes, for his nasty fucking habits. She stayed with him. He beat her, verbally abused her, destroyed our homes (we moved eight times in three years), wrecked our vehicles, stalked us, and made life hell. When I told my mom it was him or it was me, she chose him and I moved in with my aunt until she made me come home. 

I tried to kill myself and got thrown in a mental institution. She visited me once to put on her “loving mother” act, and when I was released she told me to stop acting like a whiny bitch searching for attention. I never wanted attention, I just wanted the shit to stop. Cutting myself gave me feeling in a numb world that I existed in. Downing the pills with the liquor took away everything that was wrong. She wouldn’t let me die. She made me come back and live with her bullshit until I was old enough to get out of there without her being able to stop me. 

Currently, my mother is 48 years old. She has no teeth in her head. She lives in a trailer built in the 80’s with a man that smokes pot and doesn’t work. She sleeps on a sofa bed and claims there are rats running through the trailer. She doesn’t drive, she hasn’t worked in over ten years. I’m the only one in our family that talks to her. Before my uncle died, he had written her off years prior and said he never wanted to speak to her again. My aunt hardly ever talks to her because she can’t stand to hear the bullshit. My grandmother no longer talks to her because of her lying and her shit attitude. My other grandmother (her mother) died six years ago, but didn’t have a fond opinion of her. She has nobody. She did it to herself. I have no sympathy for her. I’ve reached my limit of being used and shit on. I don’t do drama and she knows it. Our last conversation was short once she realized I wasn’t going to get in on her whining about my brother. I’m doing being a welcome mat for her to stomp her feet on. 

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