Honestly, I'm tired of this. I'm tired of the singing to animals, I'm tired of the work assignments on my few days off, but mostly I'm tired of how she puts me down over and over again. My mother makes me doubt myself so much that it infuriates me, all it takes is a single snide comment in passing and it cuts right to the quick.
I've tried sharing aspects of my life that I enjoy and consider important, but they always seem to be lacking...nothing makes the cut. I came home from school for the summer, and had recently recorded a song that I had written and was proud of- her response: is that you singing? (indeed it was) get a new singer. Ouch. Thanks mom. Wtf. Never mind that I'm already ridiculously self conscious of my voice. That was the last time I'll let her hear a track I've done. It wasn't the first though, and when she heard those she immediately asked why I didn't have any songs about happy well adjusted relationships. Well, there weren't any because a: it was a concept album and b: yet to have one of those well adjusted things. But I've heard her singing....she doesn't get to judge.
Next to be insulted was my job. I know its low paying, entry level first job type stuff, but I take pride in it. I give a damn good tour. Of course there is repetition, but that's true of any job. Every tour is different though, no group is the same. Being a tour guide isn't just about relaying the script, it involves gauging group interest and reactions, entertaining the group, dealing with various issues, etc etc. Suffice to say, knowing the script and reciting it and doing nothing else makes you a shitty guide. So when she dismissed any creative element that tours have by saying that there is no creativity and that its just repetition, that was an insult to me, even if she didn't realize it. The implication is that I put nothing of myself into my job, that I just show up and drone through on autopilot sounding like a combination of Ben Stein's monotonous voice and a nervous second grader speaking in front of a group.
Essentially what I'm saying is that it gets harder and harder to come back home. I honestly don't know if I can do another summer back home. That week of camp will be so nice, not because I'll be away from work, but because I'll be away from her. She's grinding me down, and I hate it. I've been depressed and angry before, I'd really rather it not happen again. That whole thing was bad enough to go through once, but it almost feels like we're heading there again. She doesn't even realize it either. She treats me like I'm 16, old enough to transport myself but young enough to be closely monitored and ordered about. I know that sounds angsty and juvenile, but its just getting to be too frustrating. I need a damn vacation. And a drink (and its 7:30 am).