Monday, May 01, 2006
May 1, 1965
Is it that I hate everyone or that everyone hates me? or both? I don't want to hate. But today I did my work and when Dad came home, Mom told him I'd work 5 minutes and rest 30. That's a lie, but he believed her. Everytime I talk to her about all that I have to do, she thinks it's some kind of contest. Of course she works more than I do. Her back hurts more than mine. I guess she thinks that because I don't constantly complain about it. What a bitter, hateful person I've become! I hate myself!
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Well, it's likely that my mother's back did hurt more than mine -- she eventually had to have back surgery, after years of being told it was all in her head and being improperly medicated, which screwed her up further. And since she worked part-time at a physically demanding job (nursing) while doing most of the housework and cooking, she also worked harder than I did. In fact, I don't ever remember seeing my mother just watching TV. She was always working at the same time -- ironing, mending, cooking or something.
But it is also true that I did more housework than my friends did, and don't recall my effort ever being acknowledged, except for being told it was not enough or not right. And it is very true that I learned not to talk to my parents about my worries and concerns, because they inevitably trivialized them.
Yet all in all, I realize now that my parents were, like most parents, doing the best they could and trying not to repeat the sins of their own parents. My mother told me much later how her mother had criticized all of her daughters incessantly, picking on their vulnerabilities and pitting them against each other. They had also all been physically punished for any omission of slight infraction of the rules, even as teenagers. She knew she had made mistakes of her own, but was relieved she had not repeated those of her own mother. How very familiar!
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