A Christmas rant, just for you.

I will open this post by stating that I am sick and tired of being made to feel guilty for the choices I make, especially by my so-called family. I just got off the phone with my mother (of course - didn't you all see this coming?), who asked me what I was doing for the holiday tomorrow. Well, now, duh - I talk to her at 7:30pm every day (shades of my grandmother, sigh) and she KNOWS what's going on in my life (i.e., nothing). What makes her think that I have any plans for the holidays? I mean, really? Does she not fucking pay attention to what I say to her?

So I told her the truth - it's just another day for me. I'll probably clean the house and unpack some more. "Aren't you going to eat?" Well, yeah, a tuna fish sandwich and a bowl of soup later, perhaps. What makes her think I'm going to eat anything other than that? What in her mind is making her think that I'm going to sit down to Christmas dinner somewhere with people? Then she does what I call the "oh" - saying the word in a half-surprised, half-guilty voice. I fucking HATE that. I really, really fucking hate that.

I swear that I don't think she really ever listens to what I say. Mainly because most of the time she's bringing up my brother or his problems or what he thinks or what he did. I. Don't. Care. When is she going to GET that?

Yeah, okay, I'm alone on Christmas Day, wah, boohoo, what a tragedy. I WAS okay with that decision up until now. Now? I feel like shit. She actually asked me on the phone if I wanted to come over to her house. "Why? You're only asking me that because you feel guilty that I'm by myself on Christmas Day and you think I'm depressed. That's the reason you asked, isn't it?" For once, she was honest and said yes.

Yeah, well, thanks, Mom. Now I AM depressed, because apparently my decision isn't good enough for you. But when is that new? When is ANYTHING I do ever going to be enough? I mean, I know I'm not my sainted brother who's just the apple of everyone's eye or anything, but Christ, I'm human too. When are you going to fucking realize that?

Okay. Now I'm angry AND crying. Jesus. Way to go, Mom, you score again. Thanks a whole fucking lot. Why couldn't you just have left me alone?

Someone wake me up on January 1st, please.