The Sound of My Mother Weeping

So late 2016, right before my birthday, my mother asked me where I wanted to go for my birthday dinner. I am on a strict diet, and I eat nothing but lots and lots of vegetables and meat. So, I told her I wanted to go to Sweet Tomato. I have no desire to eat food that tastes good. Only food that is healthy.

Anyway, so this is when my mom starts in. "Well, every time you go to Sweet Tomato, you load up on so much salad the first round through and don't eat it all!" I asked her why she cared. She told me it is just so embarrasing. I snapped at her. "Don't you ever, EVER, tell me you're embarrassed by me!"

So this reminds me of a time I was at Sweet Tomato one time, and I was eating with my dad while dealing with the most intensely stresssful issue I have ever gone through in my entire life. And when I say dealing with it, I mean like currently, as in right that second. My dad does not cease to harass me about the taking too much salad issue, just like my mom did the time after when we went to Sweet Tomato. So it's like, great, not only am I under the most fucking stress I have ever been through in my entire life, I am also an embarrassment to my parents. I am going through so much stress I am not even capable of telling him to shut the fuck up vociferously enough that he cuts it the fuck out. It's like, seriously? We are already sitting here, eating. We have already been through the fucking salad bar and I have already taken this much salad. IS IT REALLY FUCKING WORTH IT TO RUIN MY FUCKING MEAL?! Oh right, you are embarrased by me! So I guess I deserve to have my meal ruined, without the understanding that this is a spiritual issue that I was dealing with that will get me shot up with medication right this second if I mentioned it... Close minded people, right? And nevermind the fact that I know this issue right here will give both my parents screaming nightmares when the inevitable occurance happens that they find out about it at a time when they are capable of accepting that I have these kind of issues.

Anyway, this is actually a repressed memory but I know there was a situation like this. That just means it was worse than I remember, I just know this happened. Anyway, so that day I was talking to my mother, I got upset and went in the other room. Then I started bawling and realized I had to confront her further, so I went out and told her why I was upset.

So just now, I had just finished eating dinner when I came downstairs and was sitting at my computer. My mother comes in, with self-pity in her eye. She tells me she just finished cleaning up the entire kitchen, the mess I left, all by herself. I told her, it was not like I wasn't going to clean up after myself like I always do this time, apparently you just made it there first. Then she left the room, and as she is walking away I hear the mock sounds of crying.

Moment by moment, day after day, I slip further and further away about giving even the slightest shit about that woman.