Well, I have so much more to type about regarding this woman than I did yesterday, and it’s so late! I don’t know how I’m going to get this all down! But I’ll try! The next story will be shorter, then the big finale!
The story is now going to jump a few years to the near present, about 7-8 months ago. During last summer I discovered that my best friend and college roommate was looking for a place, and asked if I would like to move in with her. I was delighted! Coincidentally, however, I had found out not a few hours prior that Mr. McDoodlePants was at the end of his rope and put a general post on the interwebz to escape his mother’s insanity. I had suggested if he thought it would work, that we could find a cheap place. I had been contemplating moving out of my parents’ home simply to try it out, and both of these opportunities fell in my lap at once. I thought to myself, “If the three of us got a 2-bedroom apartment (my best friend and I had the same bedroom in college) then we’d save huge on the rent.” So I made the suggestion and we all agreed.
Now we couldn’t get the apartment for a couple months, but that worked great for my best friend and me. Mr. McDoodlePants, on the other hand, began having worse problems than usual. The idea of her only competent help around the house leaving, especially with no recognizable reason, took a great toll. Now I can understand this; her youngest son, and only son capable of doing it, is trying to leave the nest. Fine. She didn’t think he could make it on his own. Fine. She considered him too irresponsible to make it alone? That’s not her decision, not on the life of her 23 year old son. He’s got to someday learn how to fall on his face and get back up. It also doesn’t help your case when you claim the biggest reason your son can’t leave is that he is abandoning you to the abuse your husband will inflict on you mentally without your son as a barrier to deal with him. This was one of her big excuses. She would constantly say that no one understood that he couldn’t be trusted to do things on his own. Some people would stop here and say, “Well if he doesn’t have a job, still, then he’s proven her right.” Problem is, he did hold a job, which laid him off when seasonal ended in January (without giving him notice, mind you). It’s hard to get a job for everyone right now, and he’s been putting in at least 2-3 applications a week. It’s a matter of time, but it’s not easy for anyone right now.
That all aside, my boyfriend graciously suggested that Mr. McDoodlePants live with him free of charge for the time he needed to wait for the apartment. Mr. McDoodlePants agreed and was getting ready to move. Now Mr. McDoodlePants lived about 15 miles from another high school friend of ours, who’s mother is very kind and cares very much for Mr. McDoodlePants. The reason I say this is because, when Mr. McDoodlePants tried to explain that he was moving out asap, his mother flipped. So much so that she took his car keys and would not return them. Legally, she could hold onto them, as the car was not signed in Mr. McDoodlePants’ name. And so here is our sad little man, forcibly stranded at this mother’s house because she can’t let go. She goes into a fit of rage, exclaiming how he is doing all of this just to spite her. He must hate her passionately to want to hurt her this much. She’s stressing so much about the whole ordeal she’ll need to get stronger stress medication, which will also be his fault. His brother is now getting upset about the whole thing. His fault. She begins to cry about it. His fault. Does he have no compassion for her problems? He tries desperately to assure her that he is not leaving to hurt her, nor to escape her (which from his point of view is true, he never really wanted to ‘escape’ from her, but hoped that distance would improve their communication and help her have less stress because she wouldn’t have to worry about his interference in the house business, which she would also always get angry at him for). She denies everything he tells her. It gets to the point that Mr. McDoodlePants walks out of the house and begins the 15 mile trek to our friend’s house down the road. He manages to call about half way there and asks them to come get him. They do, and find him walking and crying down the road.
Skip to the next day, and myself, my boyfriend, Mr. McDoodlePants, and his lovely girlfriend are driving to the house to get his keys back. We arrive at 4pm. We do not see the glint of the keys until 8pm. The whole time in between? She tells us her life story. Every bit of it. Her childhood miseries, raising her brothers because her mom was crazy (although less crazy than her if you ask me, but…), being disowned by said mother, having a son with just as many mental problems as her brothers and mother did, and having a second son who she claims is just as bad off as his OCD/manic brother who leaves a whole cooked fish under his bed for two months before his mother FINALLY cleaned the room and found it (true story). Four hours, people. Four hours of just her talking. Somehow she brought herself full circle and said, “Fine. If you want to hurt me so much, take your keys and go. Is that what you want? You want me to cry in front of guests you bring into my home? I don’t appreciate you all ganging up on me about this, you know. You’re never going to make it on your own. You’ll end up right back here, so why leave? It’s just to hurt me, so fine. Leave then. Take your damn keys.” (not necessarily in that order, but these are all quoted sentences she said during the last 15 minutes we spent moving his things out to his car and leaving) I’m not even going to being discussing his brother (who I have no idea how he got a license, but he has one and drives) stalked us for 45 minutes while we took Mr. McDoodlePants’ girlfriend home, and also proceeded to try and stalk her up the sidewalk when we dropped her off.
The next two months were a constant bombardment of calls to Mr. McDoodlePants and to my boyfriend from Mr. McDoodlePants’ mother. We thought it best to simply not tell her where Mr. McDoodlePants was staying, 1) because of the fiasco at Hershey Park, and 2) because my boyfriend did NOT want her knowing where his home was, let alone have her visit constantly. Although she resented it, eventually she just got over it. When he moved into our apartment, however, the issue resurfaced.
Sorry to leave you all in suspense, but it’s again late, and I have an early morning as always tomorrow. The finale will begin either tomorrow night or over the weekend, as I’ll be out late tomorrow, as per the Thursday norm, and probably busy Friday night as well. More thoughts? Anything you’d like to offer is welcome. Thank you very much to all who commented on the last post. Your perspectives are very appreciated.