Friday, April 19, 2013

Another episode of paranoia unchecked...

She is simply amazing, my hoarding mother, and not in a good way...

Yesterday or the day before I spoke to her briefly.  She was FURIOUS about something.  After her normal repertoire of fast food drama, issues at Walmart, etc. she finally got to it.  What has pissed her off THIS time.  

She found marks that look like an animal sprayed on her siding of her house.  How she can tell with all the weeds, dirt, etc. I could not tell you.  I will spare you the long drawn out story, but she is convinced that her despised neighbor 'In-the-turn' has spit tobacco juice about 18 inches up from the ground on her siding.  Um... okay.  She also has a list of new and equally crazy allegations that to her, are 'a smoking gun' that he is hanging around her house at night.  They are all inconsequential and she IS getting worse. Much worse.

In her rant she also stated that "...and I got a call from HER last night and she can just go f#$k herself, I am done.  I wouldn't ask her to inconvenience herself [insert normal rant of this type by rote, even inflection and vernacular].  I have asked her to help me and well, she could not be bothered, so forget her..."  [And by HER she means the neighbor directly behind her...]

What did you want her to do?

"I wanted to ask if I could have a small box built and put on her roof with a trail camera in it to get the SOB as he..."

WHAT?  Her house is several hundreds of yards from your house, let alone HIS house.  A trail camera is most likely not going to work, and will get spectacular views of her horses and goats near your fence

"Well.  There have been times I have asked for her help and SHE WOULD NOT DO IT.  Well, THAT IS FINE.  I am thinking about having another storage shed built and putting the camera in it..."

You get the picture.  Pun somewhat intended.

What was the song by Patsy Cline my mother would sing at the top of her voice when I was a small child, home alone with her?


Oy.  I often wonder what will break first.  Her physical being, or her mental health... or my resolve to check in on her.  She is simply miserable, so unhappy, that she is toxic.

Oh- the other conversation with her this week I wanted to share....

"I went and saw you-know-who..."

No- I don't.

"... and so I have decided to see that chiropractor, 'Morticia' [who was in my graduating class at high school and sat next to me at graduation].  She asked where I lived, and how long I had lived there.  I told her since 1968... and she JUST LOOKED AT ME.  She finally asked how YOU went to 'Yadda High' when you lived in 'Blah Blah High's district.  I was so shocked I was not thinking fast enough, and I stumbled around a bit.  I told her that YHS had better academic programs and the classes you needed for college [true] and when she asked about address I told her we owned a house in Parkersburg that districting was no problem."

Holy-rewriting-history- and-making-something-an-issue-that-is-no-longer-relevant Batman!  Most of what she said was a LIE.  Outright.  The truth is:

  1. She caused so much trouble with the kids, the parents, et al in my home neighborhood, and with my teachers that my parents pulled me out of school in 2nd grade and sent me to a private school as Dad vehemently opposed me being skipped ahead a grade or two, and I was already taking reading with the older kids, which made me OH-SO-POPULAR at school, that and being dressed like a demented Shirley Temple.
  2. At the end of the 4th grade year she had stirred so much crap there too that I needed to be moved again, and this time I was not happy about it.  I had been allowed to work ahead at my own pace, and in many areas was doing 7th and 8th grade work.  I also began to have an opinion of my own, and at 10 years old she wrote me off as incorrigible (and nothing could have been further from the truth!) and because of the nonstop battle zone, Dad took me to Grandma's to stay, since my mother refused to look at me, speak to me, cook anything (I was not allowed to cook save heat up Spaghetti O's or nuke pizza) and since I was not allowed to use the washer, anything of mine that ended up in with their clothes was thrown wet on the floor to mildew.  
  3. I was basically thrown away by my mother at 10, and her jealousy and anger grew towards me, and my relationships with my father and his mother.
  4. I stayed at my grandmother's until I left for college, only going home to see my cat and to spend the occasional weekends which were BATTLE ZONES.
  5. We did NOT own a house in that town, despite her rationalization to me that prior to the house she currently lives in, she owned a house there.  
She was absolutely freaked and ordering me to not out her.  When I informed her that everyone in Admin at YHS knew I lived out of district, she was angry.  I explained the energy expended to lie about this was utterly unnecessary since I have been out of HS for 26 years.  

She then went on to talk about buying bike shorts at Walmart to 'give her support' and ... BLECH.

She also immediately started asking about Facebook and the fact that 'Morticia' and I are friends there.  I am sure you can imagine.  

Enjoy?  :-/


  1. Would your mom let her neighbors attach something to her house? I think not.

    The more of her rants I hear the more I want to take her phone so you can't listen. Not fair I know. I'm wrong.

    HERE! Let me make you feel better. My toxic mom once wanted to start a fight between me and one of my baby sisters so she called my house (I was at work) and told my man that "Lisa needs to call her so they can discuss this!" She yelled these demands at him and he said he wouldn't convey that message. I had always told him "hang up on her any time she calls." He finally hung up. she then proceeded to call back ALL. DAY. LONG. yelling at him and threatening him. Also, creating a whole history of my childhood that wasn't real in an attempt to chase him off.

    When I got home he was clearly rattled and asked me if I had indeed committed murder in elementary school. (he was smirking) Since that event he no longer doubts my stories of her hatecrazy.

    THERE! You aren't not alone! A the camaraderie of the crazy.

  2. Thank you Lisa! I appreciate your support.

    And I <3 the Camaraderie of the Crazy... I am just sorry you have to experience it too.