At the moment, I'm utterly terrified of tomorrow. It's completely supplanted the exam anxiety I usually experience on a midterm day.

I need to call my parents. I have no idea how that conversation will go, yet it needs to happen. Between reasons of common courtesy (let them know I'm still alive) and necessity (there are a few things I should get from the house that I couldn't move on Sunday, the pickup of which needs arranging), I can't put it off.

But, with my mother as angry as she is, I have even odds of getting something productive out of the conversation or getting another anvil to the head. It depends, I suppose, on who answers the phone. My dad will undoubtedly be polite, even if not openly glad I called. My mother, on the other hand, will be cold, antagonistic and hurtful -- I've heard her talk to her own mother enough times to not doubt that.

Furthermore, I have reason to believe that she was still utterly furious as of last night. Witness my friend Jill's experience. She called for my brother last night and had the misfortune of talking to my mother.

If my mother is, in fact, taking out her anger on others, I find it to be profoundly hypocritical and disturbing. Over the years, she has cautioned me against doing that very thing many times. On that same note, when m'love and I returned to my parents' house to get the last load Sunday afternoon, my father was intently cleaning out dishwasher components -- he tends to throw himself into house and/or yardwork when my mother is angry. I hope I'm merely reading too much into all this.

I'm tired of being emotionally drained and I'm tired of breaking into tears at the slightest thought of my parents, the home I've left or even the cats I've left behind. Yet, though I'm finally starting to get myself back together, I know all it would take is a well-directed word from my mother to send me right back to that place.

What I find particularly frightening is that my mother is fully capable of holding grudges and anger for decades. I refer once more to my maternal grandmother -- it's been about two years since they last spoke in anything but angry words, with thirty or more years of on again off again outright battle preceding. Granted, I myself have a very difficult time with my grandmother, but the mere mention of her still has the ability to get my mother simmering with sharp-tongued bitterness.

It bothers me immensely that I have this barrier before me. I have an extremely difficult time talking to my mother when she's angry. I learned long ago that the best way to cope is to let her spew her shit-storms and concede to her judgment. This is by no means a constructive way to resolve an issue. Yet, as my brother can attest, she is very adept at turning the object of her fury's words against them, forming any counterpoint into exceedingly unflattering and self-serving motives.

Therefore, the way to attempt to return to peace with her is to accept that I am a selfish, disrespectful, ungrateful and self-centred person who sees her as nothing more than a tool to be used and forgotten. Then, I must make a sincere appeal for her forgiveness, make visible changes in my behaviour and demonstrate my gratitude for all she has done for me.

It's a lot to swallow.

I hate this crushed feeling.