{STOP THIS CRAZY ROLLER COASTER!}

Okay, so <WHEW> I finally found like a snippet of time here to blog. (so what if it's 6:30 in the morning!)

So... with all that has gone on in my life in the past week or so, my thought is this:

My dad went into the hospital for 11 days. My mom was as worried about her own needs as much as I was worried about my dad, so it was 11 days of pretty much sheer torture while I cared for my mother.  Every morning, I dreaded opening the door to her room. Every morning, it was that What-are-you-going-to-do-for-me attitude that almost set me over the edge and into fits where I had visions of winding up the cover story on the evening news. LOL

The first week, she tried to be "good." She tried not to want/need/ask for too much. However, as much as she tried, she did not succeed. Her needs ALWAYS superceded everyone else's in the house. She didn't want me to go to the hospital the day before my dad's surgery (I would leave her alone too long) BUT she could not come right out and say that, so she would say things like,

"I don't think your daddy wants you to come all the way to Philly to see him..."  ( uh.....no.)

or:

"He's going to be pretty groggy anyway before surgery, you might as well wait until he's home..." (groggy the day BEFORE surgery? And wait for almost 2 weeks? - I don't think so!)

Or

"I don't know if it's a good idea that you take Josh all the way to the city, it's such a long drive!"  (Hmmmm #1: a fact that she wasn't worried about ANYtime I went into Philly before - Hmmmm #2: it's only a 45 minute drive - about the amount of time it took me to get to the old house when I was trekking my newborn baby back and forth caring for HER.)

Needless to say, I went to see my dad, ON FATHER'S DAY, the day before his surgery. I went to see him 2 days after his surgery, and I went to pick him up from the hospital when he was ready to come home.

Stephen gave me some sound advice to help take care of her while my dad was away... "Just keep it all business. Go in, do what you gotta do, get out. Don't let her get to you, that's all!" It made sense to me. Easy, right?

WRONG. First of all, since she is my mother, she expertly knows all the buttons to push that will precisely trigger an emotional circuit overload. It is almost as if she seems to enjoy goading me to see if she could get a reaction. And, I noticed, the less I responded, the MORE she tried to push my buttons.

A couple of times I gave in. I got angry. I fed into the crap that she was dishing out that left such a bad taste in my mouth....  The thing she likes, I figured, is the apology that always come after the eating of the crap. It's the eating crow that she enjoys. So, she will press all the hot-spots of my emotional repetoire until I short circuit overload and then she waits for me to come in, inevitably, tail between my legs, asking forgiveness for being so mean to her.

So, it was when I outright told her;

"Here's the thing mom. I am already pretty much already angry all the time with you. So, I am working on that. I am angry with the fact that I have to take care of you. It angers me because I think to myself, "Why should I take care of you, when you weren't there for ME when I needed you."'

Here, I get kind of a wounded look along with the an I-don't-understand-what-you-are-talking-about eyebrow raise.

"So, the bottom line is," I continue, "That I am taking care of you because it's the right thing to do. I am doing it so daddy doesn't have to worry, I am doing it, because it's what Pop-pop would have done." She begins to interrupt now, I can see her struggling with the need, the absolute need to turn things around, to try to take some of the blame off of her and dump it on me.... I hold up my hand.

"Mom, I am struggling with this anger. I just want you to know that it's not easy having to take care of you when you didn't take care of me as a child. That's it. That is all I want to say."

She paused for quite a while, a lapse that usually never happens because she is so quick to turn the tables and already has her script prepared. I braced myself for the guilt-blow, and chanted my mantra to myself, "donotgetangry donotgetangry donotgetangry"

She sighed. A long, hard, almost defeated sigh. I don't know if the sound made me feel better or worse.

"I know it's hard." she spoke. "I can understand how difficult this is for you, and you are right. You don't owe me anything, I certainly don't deserve it. It is nice that you and Stephen have taken me into your house and not putting me in a nursing home." She raised her gaze and looked at me forlornly, "I will do my best to make it easy on you."

Now, this may sound nice, but I have played this game before and lost. It's the take-the-guilt-to-the-next-level where she "admits" to being wrong and then tries to fling the guilt like mud, back onto me with a poor, pitiful me, defeated speech. The past sceneros might have been different, but the outcome has always ended with the same result; somehow, I am rightfully mad, but wind up apologizing to her.

She waited to bathe in the glow of her guilt ridden speech. She waited to hear, "Oh NO, mom, it's okay, you're not too much trouble at all!" She didn't get it.

I looked at her blankly and said, "Good, I am glad you understand." I turned and left her speechless.

Throughout the next couple of days, she did her best to get a reaction out of me. Nothing worked, until she announced one day,

"Oh, I called Lauren to tell her that your father was in the hospital."

Lauren is my step-daughter. Why she would call her to tell her when WE had already let her know is beyond me. It's not her place, but I let it go. She added with oozing pleasure,

"Well, since she wasn't home, I talked to Shelley and told her about it."

Shelley is Stephen's ex-wife. She had me. The anger exploded. Came pouring out, at a Mount St. Helen's proportion eruption.

"WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU TELL STEPHEN'S EX WIFE ANYTHING???" I felt like leveling her lunch tray right at her.

"I don't know what you mean? I figured, since Lauren wasn't there, I would just have Shelley relay the message to her!" The blank stare, deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. It is always the same. That "why,-whatever-do-you-mean?" southern belle psedo innocence gets me everytime. I almost hear the Scarlett O'Hara drawl in her voice. She knows damn well what I mean.

She continued, "I can't call Lauren to tell her what's going on?" Now, the look of hurt follows.

I scream, "NO you CAN'T call Lauren! It is NOT YOUR PLACE TO CALL HER!" I am now at full-fume. "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? ARE YOU JUST PLAIN STUPID OR ARE YOU JUST THAT CRUEL?"

You see, even though we get along with the ex, Shelley still has a happy knack of storing up information to be used at a later date. And my mom is a classic distortor of the truth, so who knows what she really said to Shelley.

now the tears... "What did I do that was so wrong? I..I don't understand.."

"I know MOM, you never understand. I can't beleive that you would call Stephen's ex-wife. You have NO right."

I FORCE myself to be calm. Find-a-happy-place. But all I see is red. BIG flaming bright red visions of strangling her. My hands itch.

"Forget it mom. You just don't get it." I turn and leave the room, slam the doors behind me.  But since they are glass French doors, the effect is more of a muffled thud than a you-get-the-point bang. Story of my life.

BUT, this time, the outcome is different. This time, she will not "win." This time, I go in throughout the day and it is ALL business. "what do you need. here is your lunch. I have to change you now. Here is your dinner."

At some point during the day, she has called my father to tell him the situation and 5 of her friends relaying to them the sordid details of our arguement as only her point of view could allow.

By that evening, I was still mad, but more of a dull, aching simmering mad than a seething, boiling fury. I call my dad to see how he is and he tells me that mom called and told him what she did. As usual, my dad sided with me, asking her matter of factly WHY would she do that? But to my surprise, my mom actually agreed that what she did was wrong. So, when I went in for the "evening routine" I faced a pensive, full-of-remorse mom.

"I am sorry." she began. "I shouldn't have told Shelley anything."

"NO mom, you shouldn't have called at all. It was out of line and it's not your place to call Stephen's daughter." still business-like.

"I know. I guess. <great big sigh> Sometimes I need a shot of common sense before I act." she half laughed, trying to lighten up the mood. For the first time, in, since I can't remember when, she knew she was actually wrong and didn't try to flip the coin.

"Yep." I agreed, thinking the arsenal of needles I would need to inject her with common sense would make a heroine addict swoon. "It's kind of always been that way, mom."

The next couple of days until I picked my father up from the hospital were relatively quiet. She didn't needle me to turn the AC up 1 or 2 degrees, didn't ask for something as I was walking out the door, didn't call the house phone 13 times throughout the day to see when I was coming in....

I didn't apologize. It was business as usual until my dad came home. Forcing myself to detach is hard, but harder still is breaking the long pattern of guilt that has been intricately woven around me my whole life.

It takes time to untangle the web.

Time = Healing = Happiness.

I want the outcome of my life to be as happy as I can be. It does depend on me and the hard task of putting this pattern of guilt-anger to rest. A  blow that I wish could be guilotine like, but I know will be a more hard-earned, often tortureous route. But, the freedom I will have in the end will be worth the effort.

Comments

[kris]

you're so strong! you're amazing!

[Denean]

Kudos to you hun! Been missin yah -
glad to see your ok!

[susan]

I also take care of my mother and see myself in much of what you write. My mother is housebound but she never took care of herself and now she is paying the price. Of course, she takes no responsibility for her situation and believes completely that its my responsibility to spend my life taking care of her. Please keep strong and take care of yourself.

[Bek ~ Aussie Chick]

What an amazing woman you are.
You have every reason to be so VERY proud of yourself.
Really.
I think you are brilliant.
Your honesty... and desire to find happiness within yourself. To see things as they are.
It is a beautiful thing to see in a person.
Thanks for sharing.
Bx