She's not trying to help me

She's trying to help herself.

My mom and I are back to our never ending argument about me moving out. She keeps saying she wants to help me be independent and be an adult, blah blah blah, but I have a hard time believing that when for every time she makes that argument, I hear 3 about "I don't want you here", "I don't have enough space for my stuff because you're still here" (which is a complete lie by the way. The living room was full of boxes when I was 7, so don't tell me it's because of the space I'm taking!) and "You just plan to live with me for the rest of your life." And she makes a point of telling me things in the house are hers. Her phone. Her house. Her living room. Her car. And she doesn't want my stuff in her car or her living room. Maybe it has cooties or something.

(She seems prone to hyperbole. I told her I decided to stay in call center for a little while and got a lecture about needing to move up and not stay in one place forever. I didn't say I was going to stay in call center forever! (Believe me, I'm not!) I said I'm going to stay there for now instead of taking a transfer out to a division! I have a good thing going there for now, so why mess with it for a completely lateral move? If I want to commute 20 miles instead of 3, that's my business, not hers. Besides, when promotion time does come, call center is the place to be. A large percentage of promotions come from call center or people who have worked in call center because they are the most well-rounded, knowledgeable employees. A lot of people in the division only know the one little piece of the big picture they work on. Call center people have to know all of it.)

Anyway, back to the original point. I'm not convinced she's trying to help me. She's trying to help herself get rid of me. I'm not convinced she even cares where I go as long as it isn't in her house and she doesn't have to be bothered with me. Sorry to be such a burden. Sheesh. I don't even really understand what the deal is, except she thinks I'm too old to be living at home. I have a job, I pay for my own stuff. I'm not spending her money. I'm not sitting at home watching soaps, I'm not bringing men home, I'm not doing drugs or partying. She just plain doesn't want me here and does everything she can to make sure I know it.

And then she's mad at me because I'm mad at her. I am mad at her. Last weekend she gave a decree that I was going apartment hunting. Never mind it was a holiday weekend and I said everyone will be on vacation. She didn't believe me. So she called several places and guess what. They're all on vacation. So we drove around for 5 hours accomplishing nothing. Didn't see one place, didn't fill out one application. Nothing. We "looked at neighborhoods." I'm not very convinced I can afford any of them either. It doesn't seem like Saturday is a great day to do this anyway. I had better luck when I took a day off work and did it. I didn't get either place I applied for, but I was able to see the apartments and apply instead of just driving around and talking to answering machines.

And I'm mad at her because she doesn't take me seriously. If I complain about anything, or express dislike of anything, no matter how trivial or important, she patronizes me or mocks me or laughs at me or tells me I just want to complain or make excuses or whatever. She complains about the way I treat her, and when I tell her she treats me the same way, she denies it and laughs it off.

She complains that nothing she does is good enough. Well, let's see. When I got out of college, she complained and complained until I got a job. So I got a job. Congratulations. Now it's not good enough, get a better job. So I got another job. Congratulations. Find a better job. Then I had 2 years that I spent the better part of unemployed and every time I had an interview I heard something to the effect of "What'd you do wrong Laurel? You must have said or done something that made them not hire you? It must be your fault." or "You don't really want a job. If you wanted a job, you'd get one." So now I have my current job, which is the best job I've ever had, and she's already bugging me to find more money and convinced that I'm going to spend the rest of my life working in the call center.

So I don't believe that this apartment thing is going to be different. Move out, move out, move out. So then I'll get an apartment, and she'll start after me to move to a better neighborhood or to find a husband or something. It never stops, and it's never enough. And it's always my fault. It's always because I'm doing something wrong or because I don't really want whatever it is or because I screwed up somehow or I'm not good enough somehow. She claims that she doesn't think I'm stupid, but she acts like she does think so. But of course, when I say that, she laughs and patronizes me and tells me I just want to complain.

Arg.