Wanting to fly the coop

 

Journal entries from a 17 and 18 year old me.

Jan 1, 1988 7:52pm

I wish I had someone to talk to about college and about getting out on my own. I get so scared about graduation and I shouldn't be. And mom's not really helping any by treating me like a 15 year old. She won't always be able to go shopping with me, but she thinks that if she doesn't let me grow up, it'll never happen. I don't know. I just don't know. I'm scared shitless about growing up, Mom don't WANT me to grow up, I don't have anybody I can talk to about my feelings... 

September, 5, 1988 10:38 pm

I can't wait til I can get my own place. Mom and Dad were getting on my case because Jean and I went for a walk. We left around 5:00 pm and didn't get back until 7:45 pm or so. I had hoped that the folks were starting to realize that I'm old enough to more or less be "on my own". Well, my dream was shattered today.

Sept 16, 1988 5:52 pm

I can't wait until I start <college> because mom doesn't know anyone there she can ask to spy on me. But, give her credit and time, she'll find someone. I wish I could afford my own place. Mom has really been getting on my case lately. She expects me to be so damn perfect. I wouldn't be so screwed up about leaving home if it weren't for her. Thanks, mom! I've got to find a VERY good hiding place for this. If she were to ever get a hold of it, she'd probably send me to a Christian Girl's School.

 

November, 13, 1988 6:02 pm

God, I hate my mom right now. I lost the gas cap to my car and she's having a cow. I feel so sorry for my dad right now. He's having to listen to her gripe. See, I'm supposed to take my car to school tomorrow <college was an hour away> so mom can have her car to meet Max in Moses Lake. I feel so awful, though. She doesn't think it will make it without a gas cap. Dad put the bottom part of a pop can on it and it seems to be working. Just for tomorrow is should be okay. We went out looking for it, but couldn't find it anywhere. Yep, she's still complaining. I'm in my room with my headphones turned up to almost full blast so I can't hear her unless I take them off.

 

November, 27, 1988 8:17 pm

Ya know, I really do think my mom is jealous of me. I think she WOULD like me to quit school <college>. But I'm not going to. No way!

 

Decemebr 5, 1988 8:11 am

Oh, God, what a day today is going to be. I will REALLY be shocked if mom and I don't kill each other by the end of the day. I should be about 15 miles away from Pasco right now. But thanks to the weather, I get to put up with my sweet mommy for the day. Oh, God, get me OUT of this house!! PLEASE !!! I can't STAND listening to her one more time: "I even called the police station, and they said it is REALLY bad out there!!!!" Arrggghhhh!!!!!

 

December 10, 1988 8:05 am

Well, we're going to see my (hopefully) future home. I think Mom is in a bad mood, but at least Jean is going. She'll help keep the peace.

6:47 pm

I think I should go for it. Mom didn't like it <the apartment> because it wasn't very clean (it needs a good vacuuming) and because of this and because of that; you know how mom is. 

Uh oh, Mom is "discussing" with Dad again. She wants me to be closer to school yet she doesn't want her baby to move out either. It's times like these when I hate her. Why did I have to have mom for a mother? And why can't she just quietly let go. Because I am the youngest. I have to learn how to live on my own somehow. And why can't she let me fulfill my dreams? Because she never had hers come true? It's not MY fault she was married and pregnant at the ripe old age of 15.

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The egg donor DID NOT want me to move out. Narcissistic mothers don’t ever want their offspring to leave them because she’d be losing her supply.

As it was, I finally got out October of 1989, but SHE had to pick out the apartment.
And later on, I found out that she had tried to conspire with the landlady, Mrs. Morris, to have her spy on me. Mrs. Morris, though, bless her, wanted nothing to do with the whole mess.

I went to Mrs. Morris’ apartment to pay rent when the phone rang. She picked up and said hello, and from across the room, I could hear the egg donor SCREAMING, “WHERE’S HEIDI?!? I’ve been calling her for the last TEN MINUTES and she’s not picking up! WHERE IS SHE?!? Is her car there?”

Mrs. Morris went to the window, peeked outside then calmly answered, “I don’t see her car, but someone else is parked in the spot she normally parks in, and I can’t see the rest of that parking lot from here.”
“WELL, GO OUTSIDE AND LOOOOK!”
I’m not kidding, she demanded that my landlady go outside to see if my car was in the parking lot.
Mrs. Morris rolled her eyes and said, “I’m with a resident who is paying rent. You have a good day.” And hung up on the egg donor.
I was aghast. “How many times does she call you?”
“Oh, at least once a day.”
Sigh… the egg donor KNEW that I had class, she KNEW that I had a job, yet she still wanted me to be home to answer the phone whenever she got the bug up her butt to check on me. I just can’t.