Update on "The Breakup" (see previous post)

Potential Trigger Warning for emotional abuse, stalking

He has her Facebook password.

Today my mom posted a status on Facebook about breaking up with him and getting a dog.

He called her and yelled at her about said status.

She blocked him, so they are not friends and he cannot see her profile or anything she posts.

They have no mutual friends, so there is nobody to tell him about it.

We think that he has her Facebook password.

Untitled

Potential TW for emotional abuse?

I just heard my mother scream "I HATE YOU. I FUCKING HATE YOU. DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING CALL ME AGAIN" to her (now ex?) boyfriend over the phone. 

Somehow I saw this moment coming. Not because my mom spent so much time crying in her room last night, but because the tension between the two had been growing. 

About two or three weeks ago, she stepped outside to call him. 

"But mom, aren't you fighting with him?" I asked. 

She sighed.

 "We're always fighting." 

"Then you might as well get back together with dad." 

He was, at least in my opinion, controlling and borderline emotionally abusive (and I suspect that he will attempt to call back). My mom didn't like him much, but she needed him; she was lonely and needed the financial support. He knew that.

If her phone was in the other room and she couldn't hear it ringing, he would call multiple times until she heard it and picked up, and yell at her for not answering. He did the same thing with text messages. He once saw her driving to the mall and followed her into the store and asked what she was doing there. If he saw her talking to a male friend or coworker, he would hound her with questions about said male, even after she had assured him it was NOTHING.  When she was at work, he would drop by the house for the sake of dropping by. 

When they broke up the first time, my mom told him she was dropping out of cosmetology school and moving back to her hometown, which is a six hour drive away. When they got back together, he kept asking why she lied to him. I don't know dude, maybe because she didn't want you to come near us because you're a FUCKING CREEP? 

I never liked him. I thought the relationship was doomed from the beginning. When they first started dating, my mother kept it a secret. But I'm not that naive. I knew. I might have been thirteen at the time, but I was aware and intuitive. 

I hated how he reeked of cigarettes and disgusting cologne. I hated his redneck accent. I hated his big, disgusting boots that tracked mud into the house. I hated how he made my mom spend hours outside or in her room, on the phone with HIM instead of with us. We would sit down and watch TV together, but we'd have to pause the show and wait for her to be finished on the phone with him. She usually finished hours later, when it was time for us to go to bed. I hated how HE was her number one priority. I hated how much she needed him just to feed us. I hated how she had grown dependent on him, instead of being her usual creative, resourceful self. I hated  how he marched into our house like he owned the place. I hated how he talked to me like he was my father. I hated how he thought he could tell ME what to do. I hated being forced to smile and say hello to him. I wanted to slash the tires on his big, redneck truck. 

And I hate all the damage he's done. I hate the fact that he has my mother's phone number and a key to our house. 

And most of all, I hate him. 

And I hate not knowing if my mother will take him back out of necessity, or move along. 

Update: We think this creep has my mom's Facebook password. I also think he has a key to our house. I am unsure about what to do at this point, but I am scared for us. 

All I wanted was a Goddamn Yearbook...

...But they cost $55.

The fake leather covers, the full-color pages, the smell of fresh ink on paper, my picture in four different places, all of my friends, classmates, and teammates smiling right back at me.

Just a yearbook, like every other person bought.

I went home. I begged. I pleaded. They said maybe I'd be able to get one on Friday.

If there are any left.

It was fine until they mentioned bathing suits.

"Eta, we found some fashionable bathing suits for you!" She said, and I knew what she meant.

The ugly Teletubbie costumes that have the same floral print you'd find on a quilt in your great-grandmothe's basement with a name so ugly it makes you want to vomit.

Burkini.


"Look at this one! It has a nice color!"

The mocking grew louder.

ALL I WANT IS A YEARBOOK. A YEARBOOK, LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. WHY ARE YOU SUCH AN ASSHAT?!


I knew the yearbook was gone as soon as I said it.

"An asshat? What's an asshat?"


"You're not getting any taller. I'm sure a burkini will last longer than a silly yearbook."

I slammed my door.

I was going to walk out the door tomorrow in jeans and a t-shirt, but without a scarf on my head.

I think I have to tomorrow.