I'm not sure what you mean. I don't do all the favors she asks--some I can't, because of my OCD. If she gets upset with me, though, she calls my sister, who calls me, and tries to get things back to peaceful ways. The attitude, basically, is that I'm angry over nothing, and my mom is a victim. I don't know if it's real or not, but if my mom gets really upset, she'll start with, "I can't breathe," or, "Oh, I have to sit down," or, "My chest hurts." And I'm the bad guy.

Oh, let me tell you one thing that happened a few months ago, that still p***es me off like crazy. I know my mom talks about me to her friends and other family members...I know this not only from things that happen, but because I've overheard her, especially when I was a teen and young adult still living with her (but also since adulthood and moving out).

Anyway, we were at Wal-mart, and my mom and I were looking at clothes. My late brother's ex-wife's son (I'll call him Bill) and his girlfriend/wife (I'll call her Kate) came in the store and spotted us. I hadn't met Kate before. They came over to us, and immediately, Bill hugs me. I was extremely uncomfortable with this, because my OCD makes me feel dirty when people touch me, especially people like Bill. He starts talking to us, and I'm just nodding, my head swimming with OCD thoughts and pressure, and thinking of the washing ritual I have to go through now, and having to put back the clothes in my arms. Kate suddenly opens her mouth and says to me, "You need to help your mom out more." I was shocked, because my mind is now in OCD-mode and distracted. Normally, I'd tell her off, but my mind is too active at that moment. She continued, "I mean, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but..." and my mom was afraid I'd start b****ing at her (I know my mom), so she began defending me. I do all I can, and deal with a lot of guilt as to what I can't. I get my boyfriend to do things he isn't obligated to do. I was the one who went with my mom to the hospital, stayed there (with my boyfriend) till 2 am while she was in surgery, visited her almost every single day, shopped for her, took her stuff, made calls for her, and did other things. And here, this b**** who's never even met me, starts telling me what I need to do???

Anyway, Bill got on me, too. He told me I should buy a car. I said with what money? He said I could get one with only a few hundred dollars. I don't have a few hundred dollars. I don't even have one hundred dollars most of the time! Not even close! Anyway, I can't touch used things, including used cars. Finally, I managed to pull myself together enough to say half-firmly, "Do you know what OCD is?" And I explained it. I also explained panic disorder, to which he said, "Oh, yeah, Kate has a little bit of that." Kate doesn't have sh**! They don't even know what the hell they're talking about! After we left them, I went to wash in Wal-mart's bathroom, which isn't easy, if you've been to one that has the newer sinks that ours has (I don't know if they all have them). They're motion-activated (but not very sensitive) and shoot out a thin stream of water. I can't seem to get through a washing without my hands hitting the bottom of the sink, which has a pool of water (the sink is a continuous wiggle-shaped series of sinks, actually), and that's hard for me to deal with; I don't feel like I can get clean.

Sorry...I got off-topic there.

One thing I try to keep in mind when dealing with my mom is, she was one of 11 or 12 kids (one who died at birth). She didn't get the proper attention she deserved. I think she was the youngest girl, but I might be wrong; maybe the oldest.