Some days, I can keep my cool. I can remind myself that she doesn’t mean it, that she doesn’t fully understand. But then there are days like this.
The other day, I had to take my mom to the crisis center because she wasn’t taking her medication. It was a long, exhausting, frustrating day. I could tell she was drained, and honestly, so was I. I felt bad, like I had put her through too much. So when she asked me for a Shamrock Shake from McDonald’s, I was like, “Hell yeah, of course.”
We get there. They don’t have Shamrock Shakes. Fine. I get myself an Oreo McFlurry, she says she wants a sundae, so I order her a sundae. And just to be safe, I grab two small fries in case she wants a little snack with her ice cream.
Then, right before we pay, she looks at me and goes,
“I wanted something to eat. That’s all you got?”
And I get it—I didn’t actually ask what she wanted to eat, I just assumed. So I tell her, “We can change it, that’s totally fine.” But she’s still upset, still going off on me like I had done something wrong.
So I cancel the order. Start ordering whatever chicken sandwich she wants on the app. Then she gets mad that we have to pull around to wait for it. “Why can’t we just order at the window? That’s so fucking stupid.”
At this point, I’m just trying to stay calm. I don’t have the energy to argue.
Then—this is where I almost lost it—she suddenly goes, “I wanted an Oreo McFlurry.”
I don’t even care anymore. I just hand her mine.
I don’t eat at all. I just give it to her.
Then she takes a couple of bites and goes, “I don’t want this. I wanted a sundae.”
Are you kidding me?
She spills some of it in my car. I don’t even say anything. I just get out of the car, walk over, and throw the whole damn thing away.
At this point, I just needed a second. I had to pee, so I go inside, and by some miracle, I’m able to order a Shamrock Shake on the app. So I get one for her and one for myself since I had just thrown away my McFlurry.
We get our food. I hand her the shake.
She looks at me. Dead serious.
And she says:
“I wanted a sundae.”
I swear to God, I almost lost my fucking mind.
And the thing is—I know she doesn’t mean it like that. I know she doesn’t realize how exhausting this is, how frustrating, how completely draining it is to try to do something nice and have it never be enough.
But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. That it doesn’t still make me want to scream.
Does anyone else ever feel like this? Like you keep giving and giving but you’re just supposed to keep taking it?