>”I don’t want to hear more.”
“I know you don’t, but you’ve got to!”
– The Sound of Music
I was “talking” with my mother tonight (I say “talking” because it’s never really talking with my family. It’s kind of just like speaking to yourself while the words you are saying have an audience and you just hope they’re listening) and I can say that it did not go quite as well as I’d like it to. I’ve been noticing some of the exact same behaviors in my brother that I did at his age. He weight himself every night and reports to my mother about what number it is and she applauds him for it. I did that exact same thing and I think it put too much of a focus on weight and numbers. My therapist even agreed and said my mother, while she does have good intentions being both her children were born premature, is not carrying it out as well as it could be. I don’t know what the right way would be, I just know that putting so much value on what the scale has to say is probably one of the worst things you can do. I can’t sit down and explain this to her because it is nearly impossible to really speak without her watching tv, or checking her email, or doing the laundry right in the middle of it. So, I do the next best thing and just say little snippets whenever I see my brother doing this. I brought it up last night and she didn’t say a word to me about it. Tonight, I heard my brother report to her his weight and I said, “What did I say last night? Do you want to end up like me?” Probably not the best word choice, but it was what came to my head. I got scolded to shut up and nothing more was said about it. It reminded me of the quote above. The Sound of Music was one of my favorite movies growing up
I know that a lot has happened in the past several years that has made my mother act the way she does. She is a good person, but she keeps hiding her feelings thinking it’s stronger to do that than to show them, the same thing with pain. I have an 8 o’clock curfew while all of my friends have no such thing and I have to report to my mother every time I get somewhere or even wake up. She’s been babying my brother since he was born. He’s 11 now and still takes baths and she washes his hair. I could go on and on about the conditions of my life that seem pretty messed up, but I can blame most of it, if not all, on my father. It’s hurt her, too, no matter how much she doesn’t want to admit it, even to herself. She doesn’t want to hear about my eating disorder. I can’t talk to her about it because it’s “weak” although I’m not sure she even believes it. She doesn’t want to hear that her baby could end up in the same position as her daughter. Gawd forbid her baby ends up in the same position as her daughter. She doesn’t want to hear it, but that doesn’t mean she can’t afford not to.
I have tried my very best. I’m only a teenager now and I don’t know everything. Maybe my approach wasn’t the best, but from where I stand right now it seemed like the only way. I stormed into the living room to transfer pictures from a memory card to my flash drive and then type this up. I don’t want to give up, but at this point, I think I’ve gotten the hint that there is nothing I can do. She isn’t willing to listen and I cannot make her. I just hope that one day she will be. I hope that one day I can talk to her without her having to run off and do something else. I hope that one day I can really talk to her about my eating disorder without getting the sense that she has absolutely no idea what I am talking about and that she doesn’t care to because I am just weak for having this “issue”.
I know she doesn’t want to listen, but someday she’s got to. I can’t wait to move out. I think some time apart will be beneficial for the both of us. And maybe then when we meet up for lunches she won’t have anything to distract her and I can talk to her then.