Well, it dropped. Quite hard.
My mother went on a screaming rant last night after going out for Thanksgiving (due to circumstances, we don't have an oven to cook a turkey in). We had a lovely, calm discussion a few nights ago, and that morning, she gave me a card. I wasn't exactly pleased that it said Daughter, and said this but told her I liked the card anyway. She said that I may be going through gender confusion, but no matter what, I will always be her daughter. I accepted this as a positive thing, even though it meant she would never fully understand. But I digress.
During dinner, she seemed to be making a point to speak for me (which I have addressed her about; I hate it, and not just in respect to pronouns), making sure to keep telling them everything that I was trying to say, as if she needed them to know that this was her daughter. Several times I asked her politely to try not to speak for me, and she apologized, then did the exact same thing. When I told her it seemed as if she was doing it on purpose, she said I was being ridiculous; when I said it mattered to me, she made a rather nasty face. She also made sure to comment on how I looked like a "saggy old lady". Why? Because she can't see any prominent chest on me. I wasn't even binding, but there is no way in hell that I would do something to accentuate a part of me that I am terribly dysphoric about and do everything in my power to conceal. I'm lucky in that there isn't too much to hide, but she embarrassed me multiple times while in the restaurant.
Afterwards, we were having a discussion about what had happened and about my situation in general. She says that I don't have to be a girly girl, but that she just doesn't want me dressing like a slob. I tell her it's more than that; that in my mind I am a boy, and that it's not just about dressing like a slob. She starts attacking me, demanding to know what I'm thinking, and refusing the answer I give her about waiting to make any real decision until I am able to do so on my own, seeing a therapist, and absolutely sure that I want to take action on it. She says that she is going to tell my father, and that I need to see someone, because she's worried that these are just more signs of psychosis and she's ignoring it. After some yelling about how this is just too much for her and how I'm just trying to push her over the edge, I ask her how she thinks I feel, and how I have felt. She outright says that she doesn't care about my feelings (in much cruder language than that, though).
She ends up very immaturely telling him that I've "found something out about myself" and that she "can't tell him" because I told her not to (I asked her not to bring it up with him, because she has a lovely way of twisting everything). He sits down with me in my room and we start to talk, but she is still yelling how she can't stand to look at my face. We both ask her several times to stay away, yet she puts her ear to the door and screams not to bring her into this as I am sobbing to him about what she is doing. She opens the door and stands in the doorway, refusing to leave. She finally says that she is leaving because she can't take it anymore and starts going into a screaming, hysterical fit about how nothing can ever be normal and that there is no happiness in the house. I hear her talking about her "effing child" with this venomous voice that is just like rubbing salt into open wounds.
I talk to my dad, who at first thinks that I must have told her something terrible. After calming down, I tell him, and he pats my head, saying that he completely supports and accepts my decision, whatever the final outcome may be. He also tells me that he had known for quite a while, seeing as I was obviously dressing in boys' clothing and that it should have been obvious to her as well. We end up talking about a few subjects, since out conversations always segue into science, no matter what the initial topic was.
Eventually, we go out into the living room, where my mother is still sitting. She claims that this is all because my boyfriend is gay and I'm fulfilling his sexual desires (which is the most ridiculous thing I had heard that entire evening) and that I want to cut off my breasts. The discussion goes through very radical theories that she is putting out as fact, saying that it must be my poor self-image because I don't look like other girls my age, or that it must be my history of abuse, which then leads her to say she understands poor self-image and being abused because she went through it herself.
(Mind you, growing up in my current household has been nothing short of a nightmare, but that has nothing to do with being FtM. That is something I have known about independent of my family situation.)
He says that I have an abusive mother (sadly, true most of the time) asks, "So, you can only understand something if you've experienced it?", to which she tells him to "shut the eff up".
This drags on, with her going through a million accusations that I knock down in succession. My father turns to her, and says, "I'm going to ask you something very serious now, possibly the most serious question I've asked you all night. If she were to ultimately decide that this is what she wants, you wouldn't accept that and support her?".
She flat-out says that no, she wouldn't. I think both our hearts broke hearing that.
This carries on, and she says that she hopes she is dead and doesn't live to see it happen if I do end up doing this. He says that she is being the opposite of what I need, and suggests family counseling in order to open up the lines of communication. She refuses, saying she wants nothing to do with this, that it's her problem, and that I can't be in a relationship with my boyfriend because I need to figure this out, and even that she is pulling me out of school. (Like hell is she doing that; I am finishing my education so that I can support myself.) My father warns her that a lot of bad things happen when a parent closes off communication when their child really needs it, and her reply is that she doesn't care.
I end up going back in my room, joined by my father (natural disaster calls for us sharing a bed, since there is only one bedroom and my mother sleeps on the couch anyway). She continues having a meltdown, throwing things at my door and randomly cleaning out closets. After this, she says that he is to get out and find a hotel until he can get a place to live, and that he is to take me with him, because she is done. This goes on for hours.
When she finally settles down and goes to sleep, I am able to get a tiny bit of rest; she left a few hours ago to go shopping in the Black Friday madness. She called me earlier, saying that if I had any intentions of going to the party later, that I would do some homework. (I had already started at this point; the party was a masquerade for my friends' birthday. She even got a nice vest and suit jacket for me, but I don't even know that I want to attend now.) I listen for a little bit, then tell her I have to leave and hang up. A few minutes later, she calls back to threaten me that we are supposed to see the Moody Blues on Sunday and that I can forget about it if this behavior continues. Not quite sure what entails "this behavior", but that was a birthday present, and seeing them means a lot to me.
I am extremely hurt and angry over everything that conspired, especially after how understanding she had acted not too long before this. Normally I have a lot of trouble telling other people what goes on, especially the worst of it, since "trusted adults" are also the people who have the power to open up a rift of never-ending chaos in an already unstable household.
</rant>
