Yes, my mother left this morning. Do I feel bad about openly calling her the "Evil Bitch" in my public blog (that my father reads)? A little. Not bad enough to take it down.
I don't know what her problem is, but I think I need to find ways to keep her away from me when I'm sick. It's convenient for her to come down because she doesn't work, and heck, she's my mom, but as soon as I'm feeling a little better we fight. No, we don't fight so much as she yells at me about everything and then there's a point when I can't take it anymore so I yell mean thing back - like yesterday I told her that her life consists of sitting on the couch with the dog. Oops. Then she informed me of all the chores she does. Chores aren't a life, Mom. Having friends or some activity you really love (besides the Home and Garden Network on Television) is a life.
I don't want my life to stop just because I have to be on pain pills because without them the pain is so bad tears run down my face. I don't know how to describe how horrible the pain is without the pain killers. I just don't. But I have lost my dancing - and hopefully it is temporary. I refuse to lose the other thing that keeps me going - my friends. I refuse to be stuck in my house all the time because I have to be on pain killers. I thought she was here to help me live my life despite the pain killers, but she sees taking me anywhere but the doctor as silly. She thinks that if I need to be on pain killers, I need to be bed ridden, and that's just not how I roll.
I'm still trying to think of a way to figure out how to dance... it's not likely that I'll find one, but I'm still trying.
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