She is sick again. Cue C-PTSD

[WomanInterrupted]

You did very well!  Better than well - you did GREAT!     

Your baby steps are AWESOME!   

It's hard, at first, but keep reminding yourself your mother is *safe* and others are starting to see all that stuff you grew up with, that just keeps on getting worse, especially as she sinks to new lows to work an agenda where YOU either bring her home  and wait on her like a slave, or you're there at hers, every single day, doing the same thing.   

You know - we just sit on a shelf and have no lives until they yell for us to come do their bidding, then upbraid us for doing every single thing WRONG - and there's Susy, the nurse who actually *cares* about me. 

Every person who gives her excellent, outstanding or special care is meant to needle you into doing MORE, because a *stranger* can do it better, so you'd better up your game.   

My feeling about that, when it came to unBPD Didi was, "Well, they can have her and I can stay out of it." 

UnNPD Ray never said he was living in a prison cell or a dog kennel, but he DID say they'd stolen all his stuff and were now *making him live in the hall* so I HAD to come and get him and let him live here.

He's actually in a private room, despite being on Medicaid, to *protect others from him* and I have no idea how much it costs the  facility per month, but when he was private pay, it  was over $14,000  a month for a *shared* room!   

Before that, Ray would snow rehabs, stating he didn't need to come back for outpatient care, because he had a treadmill at home, they just wanted his copays, the *only* thing they did was make him do a few deep-knee bends (WTF is it with the deep knee bends?  It's right up there with finding us dead, in a ditch!), and he was FINE and he's NOT OLD!   

Those canes and walkers are for OLD people, and he's only 85, which became 86, which turned into 87, as time passed - and he became even MORE rigid in his thinking.

Ray had a home *team* to care for him, paid for by his wonderful supplemental insurance company.  He only had to pay a small copay, per day, which, "When I die, you're gonna be a  rich little girl!" said he couldn't afford once they started sending *men* he couldn't harass  or intimidate.   

That's when I let the wheels fall off and only worked with Social Workers, behind the scene, and let  them know the truth - he is that bad, he's the king of his own little world, I can't do a thing for him, the only at-risk person in this situation is ME if I attempt to be any sort of caregiver, and we just have to let the wheels fall off, naturally, to get Ray the care he needs.

My advice to you is the same - talk to the social workers, but *don't visit your mother.*   

However long it was between your last visit and this one?  Double it - or be brave enough to *triple* it.   

Or decide you're not going to see her again, without actually telling her and using Medium Chill in being busy, super-busy, swamped, it's not looking good, no, too much going on around here (if asked what, "The usual, I don't want to bore you..."), I'll have to get back to you on that, I'll see what I can do...

BTW -  "I'll see what I can do" was my own personal code for   *I can do nothing, but I can't REASON with  you, so this is ALL you get to hear on the subject.*   

The more you step  OUT of the picture, the more others will come in to fill the void, and get your mom the care she actually NEEDS.   

Her expectations will go right out the window, she'll hate it, she will probably be nasty AF about it, but you don't have to do a thing  - or listen  to it, if you  decide blocking her number is in your best interest.   

You really are doing great - keep going on YOUR terms.   

YOUR life is the priority - not your mom's.   

Live for you.  That's the goal.  Living for yourself and not covering for your mom.   

Because that's what the "care" from us really is - covering for them.  They can't appear weak, small, diminished, or poor and in some cases, less than anything like Bette Davis in "Whatever Happened To Baby Jane?" while thinking they're *beautiful.* 

Once you pull the plug on any help you provide, the ugly truth comes out, sooner or later  - and they don't seem to realize it's actually *better* for them.

And it's better for YOU and your FOC.   

You've SO got this!   

[alphaomega]

OMG - the BABY JANE REFERENCE !!  When DH took her to the doctor for her knee shot, we were trading GIF's back and forth.

He was giving me the play by play of her typical medical based interactions with nurses and doctors.
"Do you know, *I* opended up the University of Chicago's Emergency Room Dept ?"  (She WORKED, as a nurse, at the University of ILLINOIS ER)

Big difference.  Huge.

I sent DH several GIF's that were Bette Davis as Baby Jane and told him, this is her STAGE darlin'. 

And she is performing for all those doctors she never got to bag while being a mediocre nurse because her strict Catholic warped sense of right and wrong wouldnt allow for it.   

And supposedly this doctor was "So handsome !  Did DH tell you how gorgeous he was ?  That he went to HHHHARRRVARDD ?"   
 
Anyhoooo.

Latest Drama Du Jour -

Newest Director at the Care Center is just messing with her !!   
She just wants her to rot in her tiny little room, has no intention of letting her move upstairs, just wants her "BEAAAUTFUL APARTMENT" she they can resell it for millions of more dollars, blah bibbity blah blah.


She must have forgotten that we have gone thorugh this EXACT SAME SCENARIO - ohhh, atleast 10 times, with 3 DIFFERENT Directors.

But, now she has a good source of Narc supply.  She gets to push against the authority figure, fight with her, scheme with the cleaning ladies (they told her there are several apartments upstairs all empty with FAKE NAMES on the doors !!!)    and sit and plot the directors downfall.   

The director called and left a lovely message on my VM.  They are going to be assesing her soon to make sure she is capable of being in AL.  And it so, they will have something around May 1st.

An entirely different scenario than NPDM woulld like me to believe.

My mother LOVES to fight.  She loves it.  It's probably why she has survived 6 different cancers and made it to 86. 

And it bothers her to no end, that I am a pacifist.   She has asked me several times over the course of my life "I cant believe you are such a PUSHOVER AO !??!!?"  You have to fight !!!


Well, lemme tell ya, when I was young I fought with anyone and everyone.  Just like she taught me.  ANd it made for an exceptionally lonely and miserable childhood.  I cant even describe how alone I always felt.  Becuase I was taught that you FIGHT.  Constantly.  You fight and fight and fight.  And scheme.  And connive.  And plot.  Because EVERYONE is out to get you !!!  EVERYONE !!  ALL THE TIME !!!

They are jealous !! They want your money !!! They want your parents !!  They want your toys !!!  They want your _______________  (fill in the blank).


The world is not safe !!! There is pneumonia lurking around every corner !!!  And bad guys !!!  And DANGER DANGER DANGER !!!


No wonder I'm agorophobic - with C-PTSD and general anxiety disorder. 

I'm determined to rise from these ashes.  And reclaim my soul.

And funny enough, I am starting to understand that in order to do this, I dont have to "FIGHT" at all.

I just have to drop the rope...

XO AO

[Psuedonym]

Wise words, alphaomega: I just have to drop the rope...

You're doing great! You really have to drop the rope because its a non-stop cycle of insanity otherwise. Mine (who henceforth I will refer to as Negatron)  is one step ahead of yours and just moved into her new AL apartment. Movers were great but BF and I did all the unpacking (before she moved in of course). The place looked amazing when we were done, and now that she's moved over (after being stuck in a room at skilled nursing for two weeks) she's on a high of everyone paying attention to her, having all her stuff back, etc. Her present thinking (heard third hand) is that we 'it would be best for everyone to just forget about all the recent unpleasantness and move on'. (Fun fact, if you ever met a truly old school Southerner (cough racist cough) they'd refer to the Civil War as 'the recent/late unpleasantness).

Yeaaaaah. No. Not going to happen. This is why she flipped out so badly about the letter I sent her, which chronicled some of her major incidents over the last few years. The big bad behaviors are dealt with by....forgetting all about them! Tantrums become her just sticking up for herself, our misunderstanding, and my overreacting. She is the victim, but she is the big enough person to let bygones be bygones. Hell, she'll take us out to dinner! What a sport. Until the next tantrum, which is right around the corner.

It has taken me dropping the rope and going NC to fully realize how catastrophically damaging it is to grow up with that. Your feelings are not real. Your memories are not real. Your truth is not real. Reality is not real. That shit will %$# you up. I'm reading a book right now called Running on Empty that talks about how emotional neglect causes emotional emptiness in people who experience it. Definitely a major factor in using self-medication as a coping mechanism, as i know we have both experienced. Dropping the rope is first step in taking back your reality and you are doing great!

[alphaomega]

{{{{{{PSEUDO}}}}}}

NEGATRON 
LOLOLOL

Ohhhh the sheer mind fuckery of it all.   

YOU are my spiritual animal.

And WI is my spirit guide.

ANd I'm so grateful for all of you !!!

XO AO

[alphaomega]

Because you just cant make this shit up.

Trauma Du Jour

So old NPDM has been taking CBD oil sublingually for about a month after she prodded me to "get on that Amazons and get me some !!"

And because old NPDM cant keep her GD mouth shut about ANYTHING, she has been telling people she is on "The Medical Mari-jew-anna"   

I have told her repeatedly that "No - no you are NOT on medical marijuana.  Stop telling the Er docs and the staff at AL that you are !"

But, like everything else "medical related" she is gonna Burger King all over that and have it her way.   

Assistant Director comes into her room today and according to her

"DEMANDS MY Mary-jew-anna !! And I tell her you are gonna have to pry it from my cold dead hands !!!  And I said if you walk outta here with it, I am gonna walk out right behind you out the door !"
('cept she cant walk.  SO there is that. )

Soooooo....a fight ensues with the Ass Dir  - which is like Christmas Morning for Old NPDM and she is lit up like a Christmas tree. 
Except shes swinging blindly in the dark, because here's what...

IF she realllllly pushes them too far on this (they dont play with meds cuz liabilities    they COULD evict her.

And then whats she gonna do ?

Should that actually happen, that flash of light you see in the sky will be me on the next Spaceship the HELL OUT OF HERE.

Because she LOVES to burn bridges with absolutely ZERO backup plan.

She could have just STFU and quitely taken her CBD oil.

Yeah right.   

[WomanInterrupted]

Oh good grief!   

Loves a fight?  Ding ding!   

UnBPD Didi could hold her own in a fight and often picked them, but unNPD Ray went out of his way to incite others, so he had an excuse to SCREAM at them like a lunatic - and often get his way, just to get him to STFU, which was why he kept doing it.   

CBD oil is a *hemp product.*  I have several cats on it, for anxiety (one can be a bully, the other is the target, and the third jumps in to side with the bully), and since I've been putting it in the food, the attacks on poor Desmond are nearly down to ZERO!   

I've spoken to a few different people about it, and they're mostly interested in if it will help their own pets - or themselves. 

If your mother had said "CBD oil" they probably would have said, "Oh, a supplement.  Carry on."'

Instead, now they probably think she's toking up in her room, which probably not only violates their policy on smoking, but could be considered self-prescribing and a potential fire hazard - which is probably their biggest concern, because it's a danger to others.

She could have clarified and had her CBD oil, but no.  She's bitten the nose off to spite her face, and if evicted, they'll have to dump her off at the ER until another placement can be found for her.

NO - they won't drop her at yours, ring the bell and run away!  I promise!   

If that happens, I'd *definitely* block her number and let her figure out her own way out of the mess she made.   

She can figure out the logistics, all by herself - where to go, how to get them the financial deets, how to get her belongings there, all of it, while you stay OUT of it, completely. 

The sad thing is, if she were a nice person, you could call the facility and tell them the truth - she misspoke, it's CBD oil, is that okay?

But no - she's her, so no, no help from you.  You've already done MORE than enough, over the course of your lifetime. 

Your mom is so much like Ray - he got closer and closer to a line he didn't know was there until he crossed it, and it turned out to be the Point of No Return (a memory care unit and declared incompetent).

Your mom is getting closer and closer to the line, too - but in her case, it may not be a memory unit, but being bounced from what sounds like a nice facility to one that maybe isn't so nice - or isn't even in the state. 

I say that if they slap a psychiatric diagnosis on her and think she'd be best suited to a geriatric psych ward.  Those are hard to come by, and often several states away, if not halfway across the country.

But, I'm probably putting the cart before the horse - they'll probably check her room when she's at a meal and confiscate the CBD oil if it doesn't pass muster - and they'll probably be relieved she doesn't have actual weed on the premises.

I *hope* nothing comes of it, but if it does - *stay out of it.*  This is between your mom and the facility and  it's *not your fight.* 

You've GOT this, Alphaomega!   

[alphaomega]

I'm being played.

Like the fiddle in 'Devil Went Down to Assisted Living".

Easter Saturday is a big tradition in the Polish culture.  And it has always been my most favorite of holidays.  I'm a big Jesus Freak  and I love everything this time of the year represents.  Rebirth, renewal. 

But even more so, the reminder that He, too, faced betrayal from those closest to Him...
We know all about that dont we ?   

She asked me if I would make Easter Saturday dinner, which I agreed to.  My daughter was in from college and I enjoy sharing the traditional foods and blessing of the baskets, and all things Easter with her.  I love Easter.  I love love love it.  So I obliged.

NPDM hadnt been out of the care center since her knee shot.  So, fine, since it was on MY terms, I decided I'd allow it. 

She entered my house in all her pitiful waifdom glory.  She is, honestly, physically compromised beyond anything I have ever witnessed with her, but she aint going down without a fight.  She asked to be picked up early so she could get out of her jail cell.

And, we allowed it.

The mask was only able to stay on so long before all conversations turned eventually to "everyone is jealous of you", "they are all so mean to you", "you are working too hard please come sit down

ummm, hello ?  I'm throwing a dinner party - they dont come easy ! 

Just typical general narcisistic love bombing shrouded in manipulation and disguised as Mother of The Year Oscar worthy performance infront of my in laws.

She is on her absolute most very best behavior as remember, I still have the responsibility of moving her from IL to AL.   
And therefore, since she needs something from me, she is tiptoeing around me for fear that if she pushes me too far, she knows, I will run for the hills...

Since she isn't permitted any longer to discuss health with me, it turns to "YOU POOR THING !!!  YOU MUST BE EXHAUSTED !!! YOU WORK TOO HARD !!!"

I responded - "Listen here.  I'm very HAPPY (you know full well she hates THAT).   I'm enjoying the creative process of putting on this meal from scratch, with my daughter and husband by my side.  We are enjoying this moment,  This today.  and IM FINE"

It disarmed her.  To the extent you can even disarm a NPD.   

The next morning, I get a phone call from her stating that I'm such a "bright light" and a "great mother" and how much she appreciates me.

So you all know that fucks with my head.

I am in a very different place in that - I know she isnt changing.  Shes incapable.  AND, I know I'm being used.  For the move. 
But, in the same sense, I'm still permitting it (?) 
And the only reason , is because of her title.

Mother.

This is one helluva crazy ride.

[Andeza]

You wrote: "The next morning, I get a phone call from her stating that I'm such a "bright light" and a "great mother" and how much she appreciates me."

I'm sorry, but I just laughed my butt off! You're sooo right! Mine does that every time she thinks she's put a toe out of line!

Being aware of the mind games is a big step in the right direction. It's much more difficult to manipulate someone if they know your angle, and some of us have very predictable PDs in our lives. They use the same, ridiculous methods every single time.

I need to tell mine that there will be absolutely no more talk of health problems ever... should do that next time I talk to her. Then she won't have anything to talk about, maybe she'd leave me alone.

I hope dinner was delicious and relatively unsullied by the waifdom glory that attended, no doubt hobbling in with plenty of groans and wincing angling for pity.

[alphaomega]

Give Them an Inch

Received "distress call" about how ridiculous her current bill is (?)

What "bill" mother ?  My CARE center bill !!  Do you know they have the nerve to charge 20.00 a day for food ??????

I said - you are getting 3 hots and a cot.  All on fine china. 
Do you have any concept of what it costs to buy, prepare, cook, deliver, retrieve, clean up after, 3 squares a day ???

Well, apparently, that bill sent her into a rage so hard she almost went hypoglycemic from this anger.

Supposedly (and I say that with the utmost sarcasm) her heat went out in her room.  And there was "teeth shattering shaking" and "no one was helping me" and 'what am I paying ALL THIS GD money for !!   Evidentally it escalated to such a degree, there was 3 blankets put on her, and pandemonium and people running around everywhere, because GD it she was gonna straighten that whole place out....

She threatened to "check herself out of this GD place, so help me God !"

Yep.     God better help you do that, because I aint...

And, then she landed the big one...Because remember, she was at my house last weekend and I'm absolutely sure she decided, she'd much rather live in my home then the care center...

"Well, AO, if they don't straighten up around here, looks like I'll be coming to live with you".

.......................................RADIO SILENCE...............................................................................

"Did you hear what I said ?"

I said,  "Allow me to make something abundantly clear NPDM, under absolutely NO circumstances, is that EVER, EVER NEVER EVER going to happen."
"Am I making myself clear ?  Because if I am not, I'll happily say it again"

......................................RADIO SILENCE...............................................................................

I am on to her.  That fit she threw ?  That was for the benefit of the adminstrators and staff to let them know that SHE WILL LEAVE AND COME LIVE AT MY HOUSE.



I'm putting myself squarely back in the shark cage. 

She's plotting.

[SunnyMeadow]

"Well, AO, if they don't straighten up around here, looks like I'll be coming to live with you".

Oh helllll no!!!  I can hear my own uNPDmom saying the same thing. Like hell, you're coming here lady. Not happening.

.......................................RADIO SILENCE...............................................................................

"Did you hear what I said ?"

I said,  "Allow me to make something abundantly clear NPDM, under absolutely NO circumstances, is that EVER, EVER NEVER EVER going to happen."
"Am I making myself clear ?  Because if I am not, I'll happily say it again"

......................................RADIO SILENCE...............................................................................

I love your reply! These PD people really think they are the special ones, don't they?

I am on to her.  That fit she threw ?  That was for the benefit of the adminstrators and staff to let them know that SHE WILL LEAVE AND COME LIVE AT MY HOUSE.



I'm putting myself squarely back in the shark cage. 

She's plotting.

Yep, she's definitely plotting. Since you're a Bright Light and a Great Mother, you'd probably do a better job caring for her that the AL does. 

[Psuedonym]

OMG, mine and yours are the same person. I swear it. Negatron  said she was stuck in a kennel, yours said she was eating dog food! Negatron has thrown the fit over bills as well. The ol' one two punch of a) inviting herself to come live with you and then b) did you hear what I said bit. Classic! Negatron pulled that, too. And of course, no matter how many times you say it, they are shocked every time to hear that they will not be residing with you.

My BF had an encounter with Negatron today (contact has been greatly reduced lately for both of our benefits)! When she heard we were going on vacation she went on and on about how a) expensive that must be and b) how nice it must be to go on vacation (apparently our efforts to move her yet again have been forgotten). She went off about how she couldn't believe I wasn't going to tell her, to which BF said, that's why I'm telling you. When she started up with how awful I was being he said 'this is entirely on you, you know that right?'  Her counter to that was that she was talking to another resident about me and had been assured that my behavior obviously had nothing to do with her.  Well, shit, I can't argue with that sort of logic.

At that point, BF told Negatron  and left. Because yeah. As Kris Godinez says, you'd have better luck arguing with the backdrop in her videos than trying to have a rational discussion with a PD.

[WomanInterrupted]

Pseudonym - I love your BF.  He just tells it like it is!   

But I wouldn't have mentioned the vacation - she's probably going to plan some kind of "medical emergency" - not realizing the nursing home  will handle it and you won't have to be involved, at all.   

The less they know - the better - and the less plotting and scheming for attention goes on.

And yes - we're all devil children, according to the bitter elderly set, who had their Old Age Golden Parachute Plans of living with us, thwarted by us  - or even declining health or changing circumstance.  We're just devil children, and there's no arguing with it.   

Ah, AlphaOmega, I'm sorry you fell victim to, "No good deed goes unpunished."

The shark cage is the *perfect* place to hang out - make sure you keep your hands and feet inside!   

Anytime you think of inviting your mom over for a holiday, or just because - remember this incident and *don't.*   

If I were you, she's just permanently blown any and all visits to your home, and can stay in her prison cell, kennel - whatever the hell she wants to call a place that serves her food on freaking *china* - and suck lemons. 

And I think I'd probably block her calls for a couple of weeks, just to let her cool down and make her more manageable for the staff. 

She had her wobbler - that's the consequence.

And I'd be looking for ways to farm out that move to *anybody who isn't you or your FOC.*   

Ask the social worker at the facility what can be done if there's no family to move a resident - you might be pleasantly surprised by the answers, because not everybody has somebody, or somebody locally who can make things happen.

If they say she'll have to stay - well, then that's the answer *she's chosen for herself, by behaving like a nightmare.*   

Bad behavior *does not get rewarded.*

And just because they get it into their heads they're going to live with us and come out and say they're moving in - or hint or infer, like UnBPD Didi, doesn't mean it's going to happen if we stick to our *boundaries.* 

I remember, "Did you hear me!?" *far* too well and keep in mind, I'm armed and extremely sarcastic, so I'd laugh, "Hell, I think Southern Ontario and some parts of Western Europe heard you, but that's not going to be possible."

WHY!?!?

I just told you - it's not possible. 

I got to the point the "Why???????" was always the last Medium Chill thing I said, which will *really* blow their minds, but there's no room for argument.  You can't argue with a brick wall.   

After today's latest stunt with your mom - if it was even half as bad as she described or even happened at all (that's questionable, at best, because you know they love to tell porky pies) - they're going to be wondering if  she's developing cognitive deficits, dementia, or has some other kind of organic brain issue going on - but you know the truth.  Her PD is running the show and she's NOT pleased, especially with her *diminishing power.*   

If you trust the social worker, speak *candidly* and say something like, "Well, the truth is, she's been like this all my life, and I seem to be her biggest TRIGGER.  Do what you think is necessary, please."

If you're not her medical proxy, their hands will be tied, but they *will* make a note of it - and may even understand a lot more than you think because I'm finding we're *everywhere.*   

Don't worry about your mother's plotting.  Didi plotted herself into VVVVVVVVVVLC, Hospice and a marble mausoleum nobody visits.  Negatron plotted herself to NC with our ever-awesome Pseudonym, and your mom is probably going to wind up plotting herself to staying right where she is, or being moved by a bunch of people she doesn't know and has to pay and have ZERO F's to G  about her bitching and moaning.

Please - do yourself a favor and talk to the social worker.  Putting order to chaos starts there. 

THEN you can figure out your next steps - if any.

I'm hoping your next step is nothing other than blocking her number, because you DESERVE the peace and quiet that comes with it!   

[alphaomega]

So. Much. Programming.

When I was little growing up, literally EVERYTHING my NPDM had to do was made out to the the BIGGEST DEAL in the entire universe.   

It didn't matter if it was taking me for a communion dress.  Or making a ham (those hams would just about do her in) or driving us to organ lessons (which I hated with a fervent passion) to ironing our clothes (she turned that one in to a full-on mea culpa).

I'll never forget cooking my own ham for the first time, without her by my side, giving various instructions (where it MUST be purchased, the soaking, the glaze, the standing over it and lamenting over it)   

I thought - am I missing something here ?  WTF is the big F-ing deal ?   

So, now we are full on in the middle of packing her to move from IL to AL.  (FML)  And Wednesday, I went to her IL apt and we began the Great Purge.    
Of course, she is passionately  attached to every piece of dime store crap and clothes from the 80's.   
So with everything we toss into the pile for donation (yes, she actually tried to insist her underpants get put in the pile)     she is claiming she is having a stroke.

50 times I heard "Oh my god, my head is splitting.  I hope I'm not having a stroke !!!  I THINK I'M having a stroke !!  My neck is stiff !  My eyes are blurry ! "

I said - no, mother, you are NOT having a stroke.  Your having to part with your posessions (just realize the double meaning of that word  ) and this is how your define your importance in the world.  By what you possess. 

All this woman has to do for this move is nod her head to keep or throw away items that arent going to fit.  While sitting in her wheelchair and her caretaker and I jump around her. 

That's it.  Because I am commandeering literally every other component  of this.


Dramatics make her feel important.  They solidify how "valuable" she is.  This has always been her M.O.  The more "drama" she can bring to any situation (HAM) the more we all have to kiss her ass about everything.

It's absolute nonsense and bulllshit. 

Growing up, she used to sit in her recliner and drink herself into another dimension. 

She would start babbling what I now believe was some sort of incantations to summon her demons (I'm not kidding about this) and in this drunken stupor I think would curse people. 

I was terrified growing up.  Literally TERRIFIED of my own house.  And do not even get me started on the unfinished basement in that house.  I swear to God, it was a portal to hell.   

I would shake when I had to go down there, and run so fast up the stairs I would trip and fall.  I can't explain it other than when you went down there, the hair on your neck would stand on end. 

She built that house.  From lawsuit money that she got when my dad got in a car accident.  My dad was drunk driving, but a semi hit  him and they blamed the driver of the semi for too many hours logged.

Dad almost died that night.  And if he had, I would not have ever been conceived. 
Instead, he was in a full body cast for 3 months with 26 fractures on one side of his body. 

And guess who got to "nurse" him back to health and make him forever indebted to her ?

Yep.

I know this sounds crazy, but I truly believe with all my heart, my mother is from the dark side. 

And, glory !  Tomorrow is "mothers" day.  BLECH.

Let the pomp, circumstance and fanfare to celebrate "Mother Of the year" commence !!!   

[WomanInterrupted]

Funny you should mention growing up with a portal to hell - I started feeling that way when I was emptying Didi and Ray's house the final time - the color scheme never changed, so as things left and the hideous "Wow, I Can't Believe It's The 70's!" black and white shag rug got pulled up, I was suddenly transported back to the mid to late 60's - my early childhood - and it *freaked me the hell out.* 

I didn't like being alone in that house, to begin with, but now I was getting a SERIOUS case of the willies  that only amplified when *horse flies* started hatching and dive-bombing me!   

Thankfully, one of the women from Merry Maids figured out where they were hatching from and nuked the problem with her vacuum, but GOOD GRIEF!   

And I know *all* about the drama and histrionics of packing or paring down *stuff* - Didi was a hoarder, so was her business partner, they had a month to move out of their shop (evicted, due to nonpayment of rent) and they waited until the last freaking minute, not believing the landlord would actually make them leave!   

She screamed!  She cried!  She fumed!  She wailed, "Just break my stuff!  Break it ALL!" as DH and I scrambled to pack up stuff that should have been packed WEEKS ago and she basically did nothing but act like the damned warden, smoke, pace like a caged and hungry, angry tiger, wail, scream, take constant "breaks" to eat,  insult us for *rushing* - and insult the MOVERS, too - who actually quit, and only finished *one* drop at the new place because they felt sorry for DH and me.

Meanwhile, her business partner sat  in a chair and fondled things repeatedly, put them in a pile, then fondled them some more, then wrapped some stuff, fondled it, and *finally* placed it in a box.  She worked at the pace of a snail with its foot nailed to the floor  and it took her *ALL DAY* to not actually complete  filling one small moving box.   

DH and I had a joke:  How long does it take C to fill a box?

Answer:  It's never been done.  Nobody knows!   

I think she might have finally finished filling the box when time finally bent back on itself, but DH and I weren't around for it - we'd both had enough of being treated like slaves, and were sick of the shouting and arguing - Didi, Ray and C, who couldn't agree on the color of an orange - so I conveniently  "pulled a muscle" and we didn't go back.   

Yes, everything with unBPD Didi was oh so HARD!  She worked like a *dog* - with no appreciation or thanks!  She SLAVED over meals - seriously, WTF is it with the ham?  It's like one of the easiest things!  It's already cooked, for Pete's sake!  You just glaze the thing and basically reheat it.   

Didi hated cooking so much that she'd make a huge production out of the most simple things, and use just about every pot, pan and mixing bowl, then leave them for me to clean, screaming and swearing this was HARD, oh so HARD!   

Conversely, I love to cook, learned to do it at an early age (NOT from Didi and more out of a sense of survival, and not wanting to choke down 4-week-old spaghetti sauce that was on the verge of going off!) and that was when I had actual proof of I Think The Lady Doth Protest Too Much.   

Cooking is *easy* - at least for me.  New recipes are welcome, a variety of spices keep things interesting, 99% of the cleanup is done before dinner hits the table - even on holidays - and the only times I get upset are if I spill dry rice.  I usually roll my eyes and reach for the Dust Buster.   

I don't think our mothers wanted/want easy lives - they want the drama, chaos, confusion and *thrive* on screaming and wailing how hard everything is - *in the hope that others will do things FOR them.*

You could try saying, "Mom, since you think you're having a stroke, here..." - and wheel her to the hall, but then she'll flip out that you're making decisions FOR her, because it's really all about CONTROL.

They *have to* control every single thing, and somehow make themselves look like *victims* at the same time.   

I'm sure she's telling people you're pushing and rushing her - well, time IS of the essence!   

Ignore it and keep your eyes on the prize:  once you get her moved and unpacked, it's almost OVER.   

Once that last box is unpacked, you can hold your head high, walk out to the parking lot and *block her number* - and never have to deal with her again, if you don't want to!   

If you're handling her finances, you can decide to communicate *with the nursing home staff ONLY* - the billing office, or the occasional aide who tells you your mom needs this or that. 

YOU get to *decide* the level of involvement you have - and if you choose "NONE" - that's OKAY. 

Believe me - once you explain the situation to the social worker at the nursing home, they'll probably get it - if not immediately, pretty damned quickly - because they've seen just about *everything* and know not all old people are dear, sweet codgers, even though they may act that way at first.

I warned the social worker at unNPD Ray's nursing home that the dear codger was really a wolf in disguise, she seemed skeptical, but I *told them what they were really getting* - and didn't sugar coat it.

A month later, she was calling me, asking where the hell his OFF button is.  I don't know - but diagnosing him as psychotic and putting him on Risperdal seems to have calmed his weekly outbursts.   

Remember:  Eyes on the prize.  One foot ahead of the other.  One thing at a time, and eventually it is ALL done.   

And *please* practice really good self care - you need it now, more than ever! 

With luck and working behind the scenes with Team Nursing Home *only* this is hopefully the LAST Mothers' Day you'll have to endure - if that's what you *want.*   

You've GOT this!   

[alphaomega]

You could try saying, "Mom, since you think you're having a stroke, here..." - and wheel her to the hall, but then she'll flip out that you're making decisions FOR her, because it's really all about CONTROL.

They *have to* control every single thing, and somehow make themselves look like *victims* at the same time.   

I'm sure she's telling people you're pushing and rushing her - well, time IS of the essence!   

Oh my goodness !  This is exactly what she is doing !! 

In her head, I can almost hear the "She's RUSHING ME because she has to get to Boston to see that inconsiderate only grandchild of mine graduate next Saturday !"

I swear to you, I can hear it.

Mind you, she has been bitching non stop about being in her Jail cell at the care center and "I gotta get out of here !!"

SO, I am expediting it.  For her, and you better believe it for my own sanity.  We have done the "I'm going to AL, not I am not" dance 15 times in the last 10 years.

I see this as a giant stepping stone to finally be rid of the demons.  And I 1000 percent promise you, there isnt A SINGLE THING in that 3000 sq feet that is coming home with me .

Thank sweet daddy Jesus that the facility has a few people they work with that will all but take care of all of this move.     They will pack, sort, purge, donate, ebay sell what they can and you get 50 % (little do they know I'd give them 100%).

And they will leave the apt broom clean.

It costs a pretty penny, but I'd take a second mortgage out to not have to do this myself.  If I had to live on beans for 5 years, I would to NOT have to do this myself.  I will throw ALL THE MONIES at this to NOT HAVE TO DO THIS MYSELF.  Because I have already done it once - when she moved from Hells Portal into IL. 
And, I assure you, I fell so hard into the bottle during that, I wasnt sure I was going to make it out alive....

I decided, I'm not even going to bother with trying to play "Mothers Day" in that shes getting nothing today.  No card.  No gift. She will get nothing today.
What I am going to tell her is, she is getting the gift of MY TIME over the next week.  Period.

She wont have any crap to show off to whoever will listen, that she received on Mothers Day.  Nope.  Nothing.

You know while we were cleaning, I asked DH to go around and collect all the chickens in the apt and put them into a giant pile.  She collects ceramic chickens (of varying sizes) and puts them all over the house.  Like ALL OVER the house.  There must be 50 different chickens.  SO. MANY. CHICKENS.  And they always bothered me.

Dont they use chickens in voodoo ? 

[Andeza]

Chickens... wah? Oh crap you're right they do use them in voodoo. Well as the words to the song go "Never did I want to be here again, and I don't remember why I came." It is a crazy kind of voodoo that they try to use on us.

My (possibly NPD) GMA On my dad's side hoarded owl figurines. I counted well over a hundred, close to two... She also had like two different curio cabinets filled with dolls.

You're gonna get through this, and when it's done I'm hoping you lower the contact waaaaaay down, for your own sake. And take a vacation. And go to a spa. And... You get the picture, lol.

[alphaomega]

HAHA  THat sounds like a wonderful idea Andeza !! 

I had the pleasure (insert eyeroll) of NPDMs company yesterday for the obligation and platitude filled day known as "Mothers Day". 

It was a 4 hour long panic attack from constantly having to dodge barbs and slights and covert slaps and digs.

She is so diabolical I swear to God.  She's wait for me to leave the table (to get her damn food from the buffet we went to) so that she could slam my in-laws and daughter. 

Apparently, she must have thought I looked decent yesterday because she was parading me around like a pageant mom.  Announcing to everyone that gave her the slightest attention

"This is my seed"

Her "seed" ?!?!?!  WTF.  Gag me.   

At one point, the room started to spin so violently. I got up and excused myself from the table for a good 15 minutes just to try to get centered.  Using the excuse that I ran into an old friend.

I will get this finished, like Angela Bassett in "When Stella got her groove back"  as I'm walking out of that IL apartment, I will toss a proverbial match on the disasters that ensued there.

Onward and upward we go. 

[WomanInterrupted]

I'm so sorry about that panic attack!  You were *wise* to go get air and that was a GREAT save in saying you met an old friend!   

Your mom is a man?   

Seed is something typically associated with men, so that's pretty weird!

When Didi was showing off for people, she'd throw her arm around my waist and try to draw me close, like we were besties or something.  It used to make my skin crawl, and I'd tense up, not only because of the unwanted contact, but I'm *extremely* ticklish and my waist is a No Fly Zone.   

Didi knew that - she and Ray used tickling as a form of torture, and found it funny when I'd start to cry - these days, all you have to do is threaten me with it, and I start laughing uncontrollably, while crying at the same time -  and I always felt that gesture of grabbing my waist was *threatening me* in some way, because at any point, she could grab at my flesh and I wouldn't be able to control my reaction, thereby embarrassing not only myself, but she could make herself a *victim* of my reaction.       

Ah yes, can't wait for you to leave so they can bag on you or others close to you?  That was Didi.

Mind you, she's running me ragged for 12+ hours a day, 7 days a week, and they were transferring Ray to a different hospital, but they forgot to send some of his belongings, which we had to pick up. 

My DH was with us and I know how Didi is - she'd have gotten into the hospital and it would have taken *forever* to pick up a bag of stuff, so I asked her and DH to wait in the car.

DH said that the minute I was out of earshot, she started complaining about what a control freak I am, and only stopped when she saw me approaching the car again.  (She was pissed that I thwarted her plan to go in and play Martyr.)

I'm glad you've got a company to take care of the move and get her settled in!   That takes a LOT of pressure off, and *they'll* have to deal with her, setting the place up!   

I don't know what it is with the chickens, but I couldn't stand to be around that many of them, even if they are ornamental - but to each, their own, I suppose.

You're almost there!  You made it through the hell that is Mothers' Day, she can't have *that* much more stuff to pack, and pretty soon, hearing about her days in the kennel will be over.   

The movie, "When Stella Got Her Groove Back" was on tonight, and I thought of you.   We didn't watch it, but I saw the name and smiled.   

You can do this.  Just a *bit* more to go, and then it will all be over!   

Oh!  If she does change her mind again and wants to stay in IL instead of making the move?

I think you'd be best off walking away, blocking her number, then calling the IL's social worker or management and telling them  this is now THEIR problem, and you won't have a thing to do with it.   

If she wants a fight, she can fight with them, while you stay in the shark cage and remain radio silent.   

[alphaomega]

Sometimes I wonder how I survived at all

Witnessing how my NPDM is CHOOSING (our reactions are always OUR responsibility) to handle this move is extricating me even further Out of the FOG.

Yesterday in the thick of the move, there were of course SNAFUS.  Thats the nature of the game.  Moving is a process.  Downsizing, even moreso. 

Mind  you, in this whole process, there were 4 men doing the moving, and 4 women (not including caretaker and myself).  There is also administrators, the moving coordinator I hired, and an entire crew that comes in at the tail end to finish removing the balance.

This is a BIG JOB.  Huge. 

Of course, NPDM has absolutely zero concept of what it takes, both in man power and financially, to make something on this scale occur. 

And due to her reluctance to give up more of her crap, the move is taking longer and therefore costing more $$$.

She was "inconvenienced" yesterday as its not quite finished and will require another day before the soup to nuts "AHH HA MOMENT" can happen.   

Note to self (and everyone in the entire freaking Universe)  DO NOT INCONVENIENCE THE QUEEN !!!

I explained to her that we just werent done and required more time....

Oh Jesus lord have mercy, here we gooooooo....

The pearl clutching, the heart pounding, the stroke headache, the calling anyone who would listen, the little mouthed "im gonna make them all pay !!!"
The dramatics.  So much drama. 

I like to call this "Christmas Morning for NPDM".

It's like she just got presented an "All you can take" emotional free for all. 

[offensive content removed]
I promptly did an about face, told her I'd see her sometime tomorrow, and went and paid the movers.

I cant begin to explain how very much this site has empowered me.   

I FINALLY get to see her for what she is.  A petulant child, who chose to remain in arrested development, and opted to use the darkside to do her bidding and dirty work for her.

It is absolutely diabolical, to knowingly and consciously shift from QUEEN, to HELPLESS WAIF, to Martyr, to full on bitch on Hells wheels.

And we think they are dumb....

[Fiasco]

Alphaomega, omg. I haven't jumped in on this post until now but you've made me so very happy. I'm laughing so hard, way to go!