Now I have to go to the hospital. I have to go and get myself registered and such, because my first appointment there is next week.

While things had somewhat settled down between my mother and myself over the last few days, I have been reserved.

I did mention to her I was trying to get to the hospital today so I could do my business.

She announces she is going to take me, but it will be tomorrow and we have to move early.

“That’s okay,” I said to her. “I’ll find my way there and go myself.”

She’s ready to fight now.

“So you’re refusing my help.”

“Mummy I just can’t handle that cursing me out in public, and driving off and leaving me foolishness.”

She protests… deeply offended. According to her she never drove off and left me. I got out of the car and walked away. And she was so angry because I had been so offensive to her. And well she goes on and on and on and on and says I’m lying… she never drove off and left me.

I pointed out to her that she ordered me out of the car. She says, “That’s not true! I never did, you’re lying!”

My mother just can’t be called on her bullshit. She can find every single fault in you, but to point out her faults, flaws or just plain mistakes… is well, simply not tolerated. And of course, she’s not being as vicious as a rattlesnake and twice and deadly…. no, no… she’s just reacting to my obvious offensiveness.

I’m just so sick of the fucking bullshit. I barely have the energy to haul my big belly around, and do the stuff I have to do. I shouldn’t have to take a such a defensive stance, and refuse to allow myself to be lulled into thinking my mother is going to behave like a normal rational human being. But I simply am NOT getting into that car again…. because I can hear it now, “I drive you here and there, up and down, and you’re such an ungrateful little shit. Why don’t you just fuck off and leave me alone.”

The last few days, she’s been buzzing about trying to make like she’s so supportive, because she’s making sheets for the crib. But it’s only so she can then turn and go, “Look! Look at all I do for you, and you’re so ungrateful.”

You know, it’s not that I am ungrateful… it is that I know she’s not doing these things with a good heart so all of it is meaningless. She’s doing it so she can tell herself she’s being big and being supportive, but it’s really only so she can have ammunition to attack me later. To be honest, I would prefer if she did nothing at all. That way, I can just get on with it, without her worming her way into my programme and without her haranguing me at every turn.

I simply don’t trust her. Everything she does is loaded… loaded up with all her emotional gunk that she refuses to remove from herself and she just dumps it all on me because it’s easier than actually taking a long hard look at herself.

I’m just sick of the bullshit.

And I am NOT getting back in that car.

I’m putting aside taxi fare, so that if I go into labour, I can call someone to come take me to the hospital and come get me when it’s time to come back.

I loathe the idea of coming back to this house with my baby. Right now, I am in my room, and can smell the cigarette smoke from my brother… when my mother is here I smell her cigarette smoke. How is it fair to bring a baby into this environment?

God help me, I need to get my money situation organised so I can get out of here.

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The Vault


mermaid, dayo's mama, water priestess, chaNjuzu, writer, web developer, omo yemoja, dos aguas, obsessive reader, sci-fi fan, trini-bajan, combermerian, second life, music, music, music!