The Mother Of All Anxieties

, , , , , | Related | July 18, 2019

(My mom has anxiety issues when it comes to things going according to plan, and she loses perspective on the feelings of others and becomes incredibly inflexible. My dad never helps her clean the house — particularly when they are having company — because according to her, he can never do it the “right” way. She also becomes very controlling and irrationally afraid that any action we take that’s outside of her direction will somehow create lots more work for her. It is the day before Thanksgiving and I am sixteen years old. I get home from school and dutifully make sure my room is clean. When everything is sorted, I decide I need to empty my very full clothes hamper. My mom is in the living room and sees me dragging my clothes hamper past her.)

Mom: *alarmed* “What are you doing?”

Me: “I’m getting my laundry done tonight.”

Mom: “No! You’re not doing laundry now. I spent all day folding clothes and towels and I’m not going to have you mess up the laundry room the day before Thanksgiving!”

Me: “How the heck is me washing and drying my clothes and then bringing them back to my room going to ‘mess up’ the laundry room?”

Mom: *angrily* “I have too much to worry about tomorrow to deal with this; you’ll have to wait to do laundry until after Thanksgiving.”

Me: “Me washing my clothes isn’t going to affect you in any way.”

Mom: “You’re not messing up the laundry room THE DAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING! Stop ARGUING WITH ME!”

(I realized I was not going to win this one, so I dragged my hamper back into my bathroom and tried to stuff the clothes down so I could at least get it to close. The next day, Mom was frustrated with the limited selection of clean shirts I had.)

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Mom’s Really Running You Through The Wringer

, , , , , , | Related | June 18, 2019

(I move out of home and start going to college about a four-hour drive away when I am eighteen. My first time back in my parents’ house is Thanksgiving almost four months after moving away. A family friend graduated high school with me and moved out of home for college, too, but he moved to Arizona, about 10 to 12 driving hours away. He also drives back to spend Thanksgiving with his family. My first day back, my mom asks me this.)

Mom: “Did you bring your laundry for me?”

Me: *utterly baffled* “What? Why the heck would I bring my dirty laundry here?”

Mom: “Boys always bring their laundry home for their moms to wash when they first move out.”

Me: “I doubt that, but no, I didn’t bring you my laundry. I’ve been using a laundromat down the street from my apartment.”

Mom: “Are you sure? [Friend] brought all his clothes back for [Friend’s Mom] to wash.”

Me: “Well, I’m not [Friend]! I’ve been doing my own laundry for… Wait. Are you telling me that [Friend] didn’t wash his clothes for the last four months and then drove back from Arizona with a car full of stinky clothes?”

Mom: “Yep! I was planning on washing your clothes, too.”

(She bothers me a couple more times during the five-day visit, asking if I have clothes for her to wash. Finally, on the day I’m driving back to my apartment, I carry the dirty clothes I wore that weekend, as well as the towels I used from the bathroom, into the laundry room so I don’t have to drive home with dirty clothes and so my parents have clean towels in the hall bathroom. My mom catches me on the way.)

Mom: “I thought you said you didn’t bring your laundry home with you!”

Me: *gritting teeth* “I didn’t. These are the clothes I wore while I was here and the bathroom towels.”

(I then put my laundry into the washing machine, rotate it into the drier, fold and pack it myself, and restock the towels in the bathroom. However, I hear my mom talking to [Friend’s Mom] on the phone.)

Mom: “You were right; [My Name] brought his clothes for me to wash, just like [Friend].”

Me: *head explodes*

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