I swear to god, I cannot take one more day of this bullshit Howard Hughes living. Last night for dinner we went to a shrimp restaurant in a more rural part of town. We sat outside, and I got two mosquito bites. When I get bitten by mosquitoes (which happens a lot), I get a lot of swelling and puffiness–almost like an allergic reaction. As it turns out, Taiwan is in the middle of a dengue fever situation, so my mother starts freaking out. Mind you, the restaurant immediately gave me some bug bite lotion to reduce the itching and swelling, but yeah I basically got a huge bump on my arm and one on my forehead. Well from the time I got home through the middle of the night through this morning (it’s 9a now), my mother has harassed and told me to put iodine on the bite like FIVE times. I don’t like iodine so I used neosporin instead, which I told her. No joke, I woke up at 4a in the morning to use the bathroom, and she’s on my case about it again. On her call with dad this morning, she tells him the bump on my forehead is the size of a pigeon egg. WTF??? Are you blind and dumb? So dad gets on the phone and starts telling me to put iodine on. Jesus fucking Christ. I’m almost 40 years old. Please fuck off, ok? I send him a goddamn selfie to further reiterate that the swelling has gone down, and I’m fine. ARGH!!!

Meanwhile, my aunts are coming over today to take us out and about in KHH. They were even going to bring my paternal grandfather’s caretaker to watch my grandparents, so mom could come out with. Well, she doesn’t want to go. That’s what I’m saying: my parents have no earthly clue what it means to relax and have fun. Pretty much, she doesn’t want to leave the house for fear of dengue fever. In her defense, my father says the situation is actually endemic, and not some joke. Whatever. Put on some bug spray then.

Seriously, it’s 9a on Day 6, and I have already lost my shit. Fuck man, is she retarded? Yesterday, on the drive to the veterans home, I swear she asked me five times where we were going. To the goddamn veterans home!!! Are you listening to my response to your questions or are these just rhetorical? I hypothesize this: bc of her decades of extreme catastrophic thinking, it has fried her brain! She is driving me nuts. My father keeps telling me to pipe down. Why are you overreacting and getting so angry? Uh, bc she fucking drives me insane, that’s why! She doesn’t listen, and she nags me to death. Am I supposed to enjoy repeating myself a gabillion times? First time or two, I’m able to keep my cool. I have even tried just pretending that I don’t hear her. The thing is, it’s ok to get confused. I’m not saying she has to be a genius, but fucking listen to the response. And then honor what we have decided or what people are telling you. I don’t want to use iodine on my face for the bug bite. I already used neosporin. Why do I have to keep fielding the same concerns?

Before my trip, I read this NPR piece about culture clashing with immigrant parents. I read it thinking on this trip, I would try to handle things differently, more calmly. Uh, massive fail. Honestly, my relationship with my parents, particularly my mother, is THE most utterly frustrating experience I have ever encountered. And you KNOW I have a history of shitty dysfunctional job experiences that rank pretty damn high in terms of irritation.

As for the article, I dunno. I mean, how many times do I tell my nagging parents, “It’s not your business.” I’ve probably said it three times on this trip alone. Some frustrations, like the overwhelming catastrophic thinking, are specific to my mother. But other things, like the marriage and kids obsession, really are cultural. Even yesterday as I sat in the salon chair, the hairdresser said I should have kids bc who will care for me when I’m old? Whenever I calm the hell down and retire to my room, I always wish our relationship were different: that I were better, more patient, more compassionate, and more forgiving; that they were less obsessive/perfectionist and more balanced. I wish they would just stop being neurotic and be relaxed and happy and adventurous. John says they will never change, but how can I be the only one expected to change? I try very hard to do right by them, but I dunno, somehow our visits always run a very similar course, ending in a major crash and burn. Sigh. I’m exhausted. I guess some things are just meant to be broken and irreparable forever.