Night before last things got ugly again, between my mom and me. We live in an apartment now, and there's a dikcbag who likes to mess with our laundry, leave nasty notes, and yell at you. So I tend to rush, wanting to get my load in and out. I brought it up still wet. My mother was plastered as sh**, which is no surprise anymore. She's a mean drunk, and just because my laundry was a little damp she called me an idiot. I pointed out that if she can make it through multiple miscarriages, then a couple of wet shirts is not the end of the world. She said yes, yes, yes it is! and how dare you! Well, eventually she realized why I did what I did - why I hurried. I told her I don't feel safe, and I want to leave. I couldn't forgive her until she started crying. I forgive her about the laundry. I can't forgive what she said. Not the idiot part - I know I'm kind of dumb. That, I can accept. But she said she was the boss of me. I'm almost twenty-five, I have proven to her that I'm a grown d@mn woman, and she said she's my boss. Said she's in charge of me.
She was, she sure was. Until I was eighteen. That was a long time ago. I live with her for financial reasons - without one another's help, we'd both be homeless, and so would my brother. I can't just take off, even though she really tempts me.
My brother stood up for me. He stood up for me after I called him an @$$. And then, when Mom had gone to bed, he said he stands up for me EVERY NIGHT SHE DRINKS, which is every night, EVERY TIME THEY GO OUT FOR A SMOKE, which is every fifteen minutes. That's how much she complains about me. And she's the one people should complain about. God knows I do.
One time, I went into her room to talk, and I forgot what I was going to say. And you know what she called me? She called me a f***ing loser. Now, how many people forget what they were going to say, or do? Everyone who doesn't have an eidetic memory. So how is she better than me? How can she justify calling me that?
She's really getting on my d@mn nerves. I hate seeing her drunk. I hate her new boyfriend, who introduced her to wine. And now that he's quit drinking, he wants her to stop, too. He made her start, and now he wants her to quit. She gets drunk and then she wants to drive. She has driven, after drinking. She can tear through one bottle each night, and every time she runs out, she goes out and buys more. Meanwhile we're low on necessities. Again.
And she's a hypocrite, too. She gets all furious if I make a mess, or my brother makes a mess; but she's the only one who doesn't clean up! And she's lost her manners, too; coughing on clean dishes, or people. She's just like my stepfather. And that's not good, because when he died, I didn't even care. And if my grandparents could see her collection of booze bottles, they would cry.
I don't know what to do. I've lost 98% of respect for her.