Crying Over Burnt on Crust.
Major melt-down today. Over dirty dishes. Ugh I just feel so hopless sometimes, which makes me feel pathetic, which makes me feel…. discusting.
Anyway, cleaning up after dinner, no problems there. But then mother started nagging me about every. little. thing. Which dish soap to use, why haden’t I run the dish washer earlier, “No Rye, you have to fill the sink up FIRST before washing the plates. What are you doing? You can’t just sit down and read while you wait for the sink to fill! You have to clean the kitchen!”
In retrospect: not a big deal. At all. But I just started getting angrier, and more pissed off. When she asked me why I wasn’t eating the blue berries that had been in the fridge for a month, i lost it. I droped every thing in the sink and just started shrieking at her. I think I was more angry with my self than at her. Me, for getting upset about something so insignificant. I do that alot. Honestly she had done nothing wrong. I’m pretty sure that was just her way of trying to make conversation. Our day had gotten off to sort of an awkward start beacause we had a therapy session with my phyciatrist. It was one of those things where they try to “bridge the communication gap within the family” Always awkward, always exausting.
Long story-short, they added a “mood-stablizer” to my regimine of daily pills and tonics. Mom is always kind of hyper-sensitive to my mental state after therapy.
So she got the message and went up stairs. I began trying to scrub some burnt crust off an oven pan. No matter how I worked it, the damn stuff would not come off. It was like, the shmutz from hell. Come to think of it, I think it’s still down there “soaking” in the sink. I should take care of that after I post this… And laundry… I have absolutly no bras left….
But, (as thrilling as my smelly delicates may be) i digress. After about a minute she came back downstairs to, I don’t know, pick up a book or something, and I stopped her and said I was sorry. She said it was o.k. and not to worry about it. I went back scrubbing at the crusty stuff. A moment passed and she started to say something about heading out to the patio to read and, I just. started. bawling.
I don’t know what came over me! I just couldn’t stop crying. I think I freaked my mom out because for a minute she just stood there. Perplexed. Then mom mode kicked in. She hurried over to my side and asked “What’s wrong!” I blubbered something about how the pan wouldn’t come clean. She said “Oh, honey! That’s what this is for!” She produced a “tough greece scrubber“ from the drying rack, and I just cried harder. I hugged her and she offered me a Xanex. (another one of my ‘magic mood pills” I refused. I don’t like having to control my emotions with pharmicudicals. So she just held me for a minute while I calmed down. She invited me to come out and read with her. “Forget the pan” she said. And I did. God, my mom bloody rocks.
