Saturday, January 28, 2006

My Impending DOOM or why all mothers should be medicated

Most of you that know me have also met my mother. Now, let me just preface that by saying that I love my Mom. She is my best friend, she spoils me rotten and she loves me unconditionally...well mostly.

She is also a Force of Nature. Her nickname is Hurricane Theresa.

My mother is 4'11'' of pure energy, Irish temper, and Catholic guilt. The day that I moved away from home to go to college she called me and told me I needed to move back home...that day. This has been an ongoing battle for the last 14 years.

In 2001 I moved from Austin to Dallas, a mere 3 hours further north from Austin. My mother cried for 2 days, threatened me with disinheritance, and constantly remarked that I was "to far from my family", and that I was "turning my back on her and my father, denying them the rights of parents to be close to their children".

I would like the record to state that I do actually have an older brother who has constantly moved around the State of Texas and has never once had to put up with the crap from our mom.

Anyhoo..for medical reason my mom has been on a mood stabilizer for the last 3 years. This has allowed me a great reprieve from her psychotic guilt trips and lightening quick Irish temper tantrums (down here we call them hissy fits) that I grew up with; and I have been VERY thankful for this, and have quite ENJOYED not being lashed out at on a daily basis.

That was,

My Mom has weaned herself off her diet prozac.

And I'm moving to San Francisco.

And I haven't told her yet.

Oh.. Jesus...Fuck..

Now, anyone who has been on a mood stabilizer and then gotten off knows how your body reacts to it. Those of you who don't, please stick your finger in the nearest light socket, eat a handfull of wasps, and watch Terms of Endearment all at the same time...Because that's what your emotional state is like when you come off your meds.

I really don't want to tell her that I'm moving across the country. Her reaction will be something like this...

or this...

and I'm not sure who will come out of this alive.

Maybe I'll just tell her AFTER I get to with a nice postcard or fruit basket or something.

Or maybe I should contact the witness protection program; They do this sort of thing? Right?

Oh, and if anyone has any job connections in San Francisco, please let me know.



Blogger Pope-rah said...

Oh must be an only child like me...I'm in my mid 30's and my parents moved 7 hours from home to be closer to me. It's a nightmare, but totally hysterical! The day I realized that none of the fucked up stuff i've put them through would drive them away, was the day I took the I just threaten to put her in a home when she gets old. That shuts her up pretty quickly...hahaha!

6:46 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

SF? What??? When is this happening? What are you doing there? Spill!


11:33 AM  

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