Can you believe it?

Can anyone believe it? If you know me?

Something is wrong with my mom. She needs medication, therapy, a white straight-coat. All of the above? She used to sing "They're coming to take me away...haha, hehe, ho ho, to the funny farm, where life is beautiful all day long, and I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white shirts, and they're coming to take me away!"

They need to come take her away now. I don't know what she's thinking. We used to be best friends, I used to think I knew her inside and out (and that's what she's thinking of me now), but I don't understand what's happening to her.

I got a disgusting letter in the mail from her today, telling me to get a tattoo for her on the bottom of my foot. It should be a tattoo of shit with "MOM" written on it so I could step on her daily without her actually feeling it like she does now. And she's disappointed with her birthday presents I got her. I had planned on having a portrait made of Daniel and I, framed for her for her birthday, but the appointment was a week after Daniel went back to TX so that great idea failed. Apparently it's been bothering her that I told her I had a great gift in mind (it would've been great...) and then got her something not-so-great.

Man, I am SO GLAD I'm not a man.

I don't have many words, but yet I could go on and on about it. Mostly because I'm just confused as to how I'm hurting her, how I'm "looking down my nose" at her. What's changed in my behavior? Let's see...I'm a mother of a 2 and 1 year old, my dad died in a field of a drug overdose in January, and my mom (no matter how much she denies this) made a big deal about his life insurance money. That creeped me out. It made me uncomfortable, especially when she was doing it AT HIS FUNERAL. Yes, that made me uncomfortable. So if I looked at her differently, it's because I started to see her differetly. All those comments about "Well your dad is still alive, I checked the obits and he's not in there..." over the past 7 or so years. I was hurt so bad by his death that to hear her talk about the money so freely, so expectantly, had she been waiting impatiently all along?

I thought this woman taught me to be a mother. Where did she go?

Dad, please. Can I talk to you one more time? I swear I'll tell you I love you and I'll hug you like I mean it. I wanna smell you and hold your rough hands and look at your tan, almost red, skin. I want to hear that condenscending laugh that used to make me feel like shit.

I feel like more of an adult today, because I realize I don't have parents anymore.