OK, you know what? I'm so close to being done with you. Literally anything I say, these days, gets an angry response. Everything. My existence, alone, seems to set you off. You whine and complain about anything and everything, but if I ask how you are, I get either a huge sigh, an annoyed grunt, or a combo of the two.
Yeah, I complain. Everyone does. Get over it. Not everything I say needs to be greeted with distain, because, believe it or not, you complain a crap load more than I do! Just listen to yourself!
You're growing into one of those cranky old women that nobody wants to talk to, and will have customer service people making notes in your file, so as to avoid taking your call. And 99% of your anger and irritation is aimed at me, when I'm not the one creating those feelings in you.
It's not fair. I have to prance on broken glass, and pray I don't have the "wrong" tone, or ask the "wrong" question.
Mom, you've been my only source of sanity, in this hell created by the monster you married, and now I've not even got you. You defend that monster's behaviors, and get mad at me, not it, when it starts a fight! Do you not see the idiocy in that???
I don't even know who you are, anymore. Since you retired, you went from mom to cranky old woman, in less than three months. And you're just getting worse.
I beg you... DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS! Go to therapy, if you think that'll help control your moods. Or, here's a crazy idea... Aim your anger and irritation at those causing those feelings, instead of piling it all on me!
Once that's taken care of, you can start trying to make me a priority when we're together, instead of your elder child or something on your phone. I sit there, in silence, as it's made crystal freaking clear that you don't really want to be stuck with me.
34 years of narcissistic abuse has set me on the edge of the roof. Don't be the wind that finishes it.
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