One vent from the weekend

Here's a vent. Friday after the 5K, J&I get home and I see mom left me a message. So I call her up to see what's what.

I hadn't told her where I was going because I just didn't want questions or the constant phone calls before I left asking me when I was leaving or the onslaught of questions when I get home.

Anyway, she's all freaking out because I hadn't called her back on Thursday.
“Are you at work?” No.
“Did you work yesterday?” No.
“Why not?” Because I have time to use, mom, why do I have to have a reason to take time off?
“Oh well, I called you several times yesterday and you never called me back and you live alone, daughter, and need to tell people where you are.” Then she goes into a huge rant about her friend (who lives in the other building where I live and is in her late 60's or early 70's) who lives alone and had to go in for brain surgery and what about Laurie who collapsed at home and what if no one went to check on her? Etc. etc. Etc.

I was annoyed because basically this means I should be giving her and everyone I know my schedule of events so if I don't show up for something someone will come to check on me – just in case something may happen. Basically my life is supposed to be on showcase for everyone else to see.

But it's not like she does this in return, which makes me wonder if she wants this – for us to check on her every every day, which let's face it, we probably should as children and we don't.

What kind of makes me laugh is that she was soooo worried but Thursday she had only left one message at 10:30 am, and never called my cell phone until Friday AM. Then we talked but she hasn't checked on me since. Kind of a double standard there, or maybe she's just not as worried as she claims, she just doesn't like me not telling her everything in my life.

The part that really frustrates me is that truly I have no qualms telling her what I'm doing, it's that she has to know EVERYthing. And that feels like a huge thumb just pushing down on me, keeping me from living my life. It's like when I would tell her I was going up to Kevin's and tell her if she wanted to come along she could – but no pressure...if she had other plans, no biggie. Basically I was offering her a ride if she wanted it. She'd just sigh and say, “I suppose I could go.” like it was an obligation because I asked or because I was going and so she had to too. I hate that. And if you question her about it she gets pissy and defensive which makes me not want to even ask.

Talking with J this weekend about family issues, I'm thinking I need to get a therapist and talk through some of this. I need to know if I'm crazy or just being petty or what. I hate feeling like this.