Control Freak

Forward. Almost.

I finally got over the whole not-going-on-vacation issue, and was getting pretty excited about going to university this fall, and now it just seems like everything has been thrown off balance.

Stop.

Everything has come to a complete standstill. Each day is just like the one before it, and all of them blur together into one long, torturous day that never ends.

I can't sleep. Can't think straight. Maybe I can't think because I can't sleep.

About ten days ago, my mum began acting as if my dad didn't exist. Stopped talking to him. Stopped coming to dinner. Just. Stopped. Later, I found out that she had apparently accused him of not "respecting her," which is the pot calling the kettle black. If it's anyone who doesn't get enough respect around here, it's my dad. And sometimes I'm the one who does it, and it makes me feel bad.

I don't think my mother feels guilt. If she does, she certainly doesn't act on it. In fact, it seems like she never feels a bit of remorse for the hurtful things she says to other people. She doesn't apologise, because to her, it's all someone else's fault. She doesn't accept apologies either, like some sort of malfunctioning vending machine that refuses to take your bills or give you change.

We tried to get her to come back to us (even though I don't think she deserves it at all). We brought her plates of food; they came back untouched. Has she been eating? I don't know. I don't care either. We came back from Father's Day dinner (without her because she wouldn't go), and I asked her if she ate, and she said yes. So I said, "What did you eat?" And she looked away from the TV screen, her face an eerie blue from the light, and she said, "Why do you care?"

I don't care because she doesn't want me to. I don't want to. I don't need to.

I think it's better this way--less of her shrill voice nagging at us to do this, do that. Less of her yelling at us to do something and then complaining that we're not doing it right. Everything is different now. My dad and I go grocery shopping together, he makes dinner, I bake cookies. We chauffer my sister to her sports activities and whatnot. And she stays holed up in her room, only coming out when she needs to. When she does, we avert our eyes, mumble something and go in the opposite direction. She's like Medusa--look at her and you'll feel her wrath.

I feel like I've taken her place, and part of me says that it's not right, that I am The Elder Child, not The Mother. But The Mother seems to have given up her place in this household, and she is now merely Another Person Who Lives Here, someone who is occasionally whispered about. The other half of me, the rational half, tells me that I am only doing what anyone would do. After all, the groceries don't buy themselves. I am only doing what I must.

But it is killing me to see how she treats my dad. All he is doing is trying to be nice to her, and she just turns her back and walks away. I want to grab her by the hair and tell her how selfish she's being, how disrespectful. Tell her that if she wants respect, then she has to start giving it. But each time I venture into her bedroom and open my mouth, some stupid thing like, "It's hot outside today," comes out, and then I just lose what little courage I'd mustered up and cower as she gives me a scathing look for interrupting her peace.

But one day I will stand up to her and tell her all the things I've been bursting to say for years. This is a new era--we are escaping from her grip. It used to be that she dictated everything we did. If she didn't want to do it, then we just didn't do it. Well, it's not like that anymore. Even the small things, like going to dinner without her, are teeny steps foward. Away.

We are doing what we should've done a long time ago: getting in control of our lives.

It's our turn to steer.