My mother and I had a discussion yesterday, a discussion about our futures and how I am dealing with it. The talk sparked tears, from both ends, and I am afraid. My mom gave me a lecture on how she was afraid on the way I was handling my money. This whole time I thought I was the responsible one in the family, but as it turns out, I wasn't. I hate it when my mother is right, and this time around, she woke me up. Although I do pay for everything that I want besides food and shelter, it was nothing compared to how my brothers contributed to the family when they were both twenty one. They helped pay for the house I live in now and they gave my mom a monthly allowance of 300, each.
My mom is worried for me, worried that I am changing. I know I am not changing, but I can't be making my mom worry for any longer. It makes me sad, to see her in that state. This talk broke us down, and we realized how weary the future looks for us, financially. We need about seven hundred a month to pay off the bills and insurances of our house and our utilities. I haven't been the ideal son to her, and she told me that. I don't know what to do, I need to wake up. It has been a stressful two years in this household, and I can't pretend like I'm not apart of it any longer. I am falling apart, I broke down as I drove to the bank today, and I waited for my eyes to clear out before I had to courage to walk in.
I withdrew a grand and gave it to her, with a promise that I would give her two hundred and fifty every 1st of the month from now on.
I am not going on a shopping spree in the near future, and I am not buying my beloved banjo anymore. I am getting older by the day.
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