Monday, August 20, 2012

She says he says, but she could be lying to me, and he could be lying to her, so I can’t believe her, even if I could believe her. JKintz




My mother had a pathological need for 24/7 male attention. All squeezed into the eight hours her husband was at work. She spared no expense. Spent us down to our last cent to have game on.
In back seats. In motels. In front of her kids if she could swing it before the old man got home.
Getting what she wanted as soon as she wanted it wasn't enough. She had to thrash us like wheat stubble.
Like an artist signs a portrait. She had to personalize her betrayal with her own brand of mind fucking.
Expecting my mother to take the high road was like balancing a pork chop on a dog's nose and expecting him not to eat it.

I went no contact with her and caught up with my sister. We did what we had done forever. And that was to trash her. How we used to watch her and wonder if this time was going to be her time to blast us. You never knew when she would go off because you never knew what would set her off.  None of the adults ever stood up to her. It was just easier to let her go.
So my sister brought up an exception. Sis was living with my grandmother and I had moved out a couple of months before. I worked at a grocery store and never made it up on week ends. My mother lived with her new husband and never made it up during the week.
What my sister said was different about this time was that my mother was so nice it was creepy.
In the best of times she was stand offish. But this time mom was syrupy and sweet.
I thought nothing of it and Sis kept talking about it. I asked her about what time period this was and this is what she said.
It was during the time after you moved out from grannies and mom was paying your rent.
I had no idea what she was talking about.
She said you know, when you were working graveyard and going to college. Mom was afraid you would nod off driving to the farm so she set you up in your apartment.
What the fuck?
Yeah! Don't you remember for a few months she helped pay your rent so you could stay in town and not drive out after you worked all night and went to school all day?
She never gave me a dime.
I paid for my apartment!
Sis said the Barbarian pulled in like the queen of fucking Sheba and yammered on about being a caring mother and how wonderful it is that she could provide for me.
No Shit!?
I had no absolutely no clue what the fuck she was talking about.
So I thought and I thought. I lived with her after the stroke and I remember her spilling to me that she almost got caught with this family friend she was screwing under the table and her and him renting a place to fuck.
OOOOoooooooo. I get it.
My step father must have found a receipt, or cancelled check for her love shack and all hell was about to break loose .
 She not only used me as an excuse to cover her ass. She parlayed it into some great press.
She could have at least told me to cover for her. And I would have. I had no allegiance to my step father. Plus she made me look like some schmuck that couldn't pay his rent.
Just another cluster fuck from life with the Barbarian.

My sister connected a lot of dots for me. Any off hand comment by or about the Barbarian can not be dismissed. Every thing that woman does has some noxious utility. For her.
You just have to listen and let it drift into the puzzle.
What makes no sense now, will if you give it time.
I can't take any high roads now because of this obsessive need to sort through it. I want to make a list and  rank her offense's in descending order.  Then maybe draw a line somewhere and say here, when I work through and make it to this point, I will relax and put the rest behind me.
But there is so much shit I can't list it all.
It also begs the question of what else am I clueless about?
Every answered question puts two more in it's place.
I am not one of those guys that thinks ignorance is bliss.
I am one of those guys who wants to bitch slap people who assault my dignity.
She doesn't possess a single redeeming quality. Every moment of her life has been a determined effort to smear her filth on every one around.
My flagging faith in the great hereafter makes me want to administer come up-pings on earth, while I can still get my hands on her, lest she not be held accountable in the after life.


13 comments:

Elena K said...

Hey, thanks for the shout-out. :)
Sorry my posts brought back so many bad memories for you though.

One thing that's always a shock (at least to me) is how much humiliation can be dumped on you even years after an event. You're going along, thinking you finally have a grasp on things, then *blam* you're hit again with a mess from the past you didn't even know about. Again.

My mother is in her 70's now and her pathological need for male attention has not changed one whit. She's still out there, rounding up more victims and gleefully hoping to bust up more marriages. The mind boggles.

q1605 said...

It didn't bring them out. Except for the one I mentioned. There so much shit I can't see the forest for the trees. It really does boggle the mind.
She never worked.
She had nothing else to do but scheme. She is the laziest bitch I have ever seen. But when it came to wrecking the lives of others, and especially the marriages of other swinging dicks she could be counted on to muster up and give it her all.
Funny thing that if anyone ever put her in peril of getting busted out to my father she would turn into this unrecognizable demon. All twisted and seeking revenge. But it was a hoot to unravel others.
From a male perspective it doesn't feel like humiliation. There is a flash of me being a schlemiel. But it just makes me mad.
It was like a wrongful conviction. Spending your life under the thumb of some crazy person just by the luck of the draw.

jessie said...

This comment speaks a lot to me:
"I want to make a list and rank her offense's in descending order. Then maybe draw a line somewhere and say here, when I work through and make it to this point, I will relax and put it all behind me.
But there is so much shit I can't list it all. One thing drives out another."

I actually tried to make a list. But, as you pointed out, the more I wrote, the more I remembered. And the more I remembered, the more other things she did looked sinister in the new found exposure. It is exhausting. I've desperately wished that there would a be a time to relax, and let go, but it all seems to keep burying me. Like being swallowed in quick sand at times.

q1605 said...

I couldn't justify taking the lives of that many trees. Not on the off hand chance it might help me get a grip.
I don't want to sound defeatist. We can get better. And that is a good thing to strive for.
But it so a part of who I am, I wouldn't know where to go from here. If I could bleach my self clean, what would I put there in it's stead.
Me looking at a normal person with a normal life is like a dog looking at a calculus problem.

Anonymous said...

That's why I try to think of her as seldom as possible, it's like quicksand or being sucked into a black hole. She doesn't deserve anyone thinking about her anyway, especially since she never thought about anyone else.


Sis

Tundra Woman said...

"It also begs the question of what else am I clueless about?"
Yeah. Well, one of the most interesting parts of aging is these bits 'n pieces that have floated to me over time from a variety of sources. None of whom know the other or understand the implications of what they're telling me and none of which I've solicited.
Nothing, not one THING surprises, humiliates or horrifies me regarding Psychobitch any longer. Don't look for "bottom" as these people are the uncharted Mariana's Trench of human life form.
And somehow, I'm NOT suppose to call this evil?! If that's the case, I might as well throw any semblance of morals/ethics/values in the Trench along with her.
TW

q1605 said...

Can I get an amen?

Anonymous said...

hahaha, stuff floats up about these people like bones rising to the top of the La Brea Tar Pits.

Sis

q1605 said...

Like someone you murdered who won't stay on the bottom of the lake.

Anonymous said...

What was that Stephen King movie about the clown where he kept saying, "They all float down here!". So creepy!

Sis

Anonymous said...

Speaking of sociopaths, we saw that movie Killer Joe. I didn't like the movie at all, but I will say there was a lot of lying sociopaths from Texas in there, lol.

Sis

q1605 said...

Texas is to the US what Australia was to the UK.

Bess said...

Amen to the morals in the trench comment, TW. AMEN.