Behind Closed Doors

September 16, 2021

As far back as the early 80s I knew there was something different about my mother, henceforth to be known as the egg donor. She didn't have close friends, she treated me like crap behind closed doors and she would claim that people were peeking into her bedroom window. She even claimed that the next door neighbors were doing things to intentionally drive her crazy and she would force me out of bed in the mornings to go sit on the front porch to spy on them. These people would be outside mowing their lawn, washing their car, pulling weeds, painting the house... normal things. Yet she would insist that they were doing so to intentionally drive her crazy.

After I graduated 8th grade, life became doubly hellish for me. The egg donor had dropped out of 8th grade to have a baby and she would lament about her lost education. As I began 9th grade, she would tell me that I had become "too big for your britches" and that she would have to "take you down a notch". She would create infractions that I had done in order to punish me. My punishment? I was grounded from leaving the house, including going to school. I missed quite a few days in freshman year. Enough to raise flags with the school staff. She backed off the last part of the school year, but come sophomore year, started right back up again. I finally got tired of it, would wait until she got in the shower and would just walk to school. Yes, I caught hell when I got home and paid for my disobedience. But I didn't care. I WANTED to go to school. She even tried to pull this shit when I started college. I had an hour commute to get to classes, plus an on-campus job through Work Study (Financial Aid- I was awarded a grant). If I missed more than three days, I would lose my grant. The first time I she pulled this stunt, she took my car keys and dropped them in her purse. Growing up, you DID NOT EVER get into her purse without her permission. Just don't. She got in the shower, I got my keys out of her purse and left. On my way home, I stopped and had about three copies of my keys made. When I got home, I was screamed at and slapped repeatedly for getting into her purse and for going to class. The next few times she pulled this stunt, I didn't have to get into her purse, but still got the scream/slap punishment for going to class.

Where was my father in all this? Doing the best he could. He tried to protect me as much as he could, but he worked a full time job in order to support us. I helped him out with chores, mostly mowing the lawn, as much as I could. The egg donor would whine, "no one helps ME with MY chores!" so I would offer to do laundry or wash dishes. "NO! You don't use enough soap or hot water! Go outside and help your father!" Fine by me. He was nicer to be around anyhow.

The egg donor didn't have a payroll job except for a two week stint cleaning motel rooms. She claims she had to quit because she got chemical pneumonia from the Comet cleaner she was being forced to use. The same cleaner we used at home. I've always been skeptical about this claim. What was she doing, snorting it?

One of the infractions she created in 1985 was claiming that she had seen me off campus walking with a boy. Now, it's true that I had been walking my then boyfriend to his house for lunch, then walking back to the school to eat with my other friends. On this particular day, though, the boyfriend wasn't in school, so I hadn't left campus. The people she saw was the boyfriend's older brother and his girlfriend who could easily pass for my sister. Despite me trying to explain to her the mix up, she wasn't about to have it. I got the scream/slap treatment for leaving campus, a rule I didn't even know I had been put in place.

Last story because typing this all out is raising my blood pressure. As I mentioned earlier, I had a one hour commute to get to college. One Friday night I called home collect to ask if I could stay to watch a play that my friends were in. I was given the okay and explicit instructions to be home by 10pm. After the show, I was saying my goodbyes when a sweet friend of mine confided in me that he was thinking about going home and killing himself. I couldn't leave. I sat with him in the car for three hours, talking him off the ledge. At midnight I finally got him to promise me that I would see him on Monday. I followed him to his house, made sure he got inside, then booked my ass home. Every light was blazing and I could hear her screaming clear out to the street. I walked in and tried to explain, but was immediately attacked, slapped repeatedly while screaming at me, claiming I was "just like your sister!" (more on that in another post). She would ask me what I had been doing, then instead of letting me answer, would answer for me, saying I was out drinking, doing drugs, sleeping around. Three hours of screaming and slapping and I finally got to go to bed at 4am. (Sigh...) The next day, I was able to get my dad alone and I asked him if he would like to know what had gone on the night before. When I told him, "My friend was contemplating suicide." he went pale. "I couldn't leave him. I knew that if I heard come Monday that he was dead, I couldn't live with my conscience, knowing I could have prevented his death. WHY am I being punished for doing the right thing?" He shook his head, apologized and said he couldn't undermine the egg donor. I lost some respect for him that day.

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Journal entries from 17 year old me.

Oct 15, 1987 6:15pm

Oh, boy, you're gonna LOVE this one! Mom thinks I'm pregnant with Keith's baby! Isn't that funny? Considering the farthest Keith and I went was kissing. I heard them talking and mom said that I am several days late with my period, which is true. As a matter of fact I think I'm a month late. Oh, well, if she wants to think I would go that far with a guy I hardly even know then let her! Besides, if I confront her with it, she won't beilieve me. Does she EVER believe me? No.

 

Nov 9, 1987 8:50 pm

Boy is mom ever in a pissy mood tonight! Why did I have to have her for a mother anyway? She's really sweet when she wants to be , but she's also an asshole when she gets in the mood. I guess I shouldn't have asked her for any help for the play. She really doesn't want to help, so I tried to offer to sew it myself. And she got all pissed off! Now how do you like them apples?!? ARGH! Why ME? And she expects me to be so damned perfect!

10:34pm 

You know something? I think mom is jealous of me because I'm finishing school and planning going to college. I wish she wasn't that way, but... what can I do??

 

Nov 10, 1987 7:16pm

Why does mom have to be so damned disagreeable? If I make ones simple mistake, she acts like it's the end of the world. If I forget something, I better watch out. But if SHE forgets something, boy, it's just hunky-dorry. Why does she expect me to be so perfect when SHE isn't? I can't wait until I move out.