My mother is one of the most miserable humans on Earth, and has been for years. Whenever anyone has asked her "How are you doing?", for as far back in my memory as I can reach, I can never remember her saying "I'm fine". Now she's smoked herself to death. She has COPD, CHF, steroid-induced diabetes, a colostomy, osteoporosis, bone spurs in her neck, neuropathy in her limbs, brittle skin that tears at the drop of a hat...the list seems endless. She refuses to get out of bed to try to exercise to keep up any strength, and wants me to do more and more and more for her.
She's in the hospital right now because of a fall last week. She says her knees gave out.
I don't think it's so horrible that I just want this woman to finally have some peace, and yes, honestly, for the rest of us around her to have some as well. The discord and disharmony this narcissist spreads with her always ALWAYS negative attitude takes a toll. She will never change, and her health will only continue to go downhill.
I realize that I don't get to make the decision of when she goes, but I will admit that I do want her to. I think it's the only way she'll finally be "fine".
I still read obits. But now my own mother lingers at nearly 95 with advanced Alzheimer's. So now when I note the age of someone recently deceased, I think "Oh God, he lived to be 98"!
Yes, you will feel sad that this is how things are, but what you were subjected to before was far worse and you still felt sad. We can't change what is happening. We can only respond. We can be compassionate and caring and still take care of ourselves. Additionally, you show a lot of insight when you say that your mom was likely subjected to the same treatment. Knowing that makes it easier to forgive her abuse. I'm so thrilled that you are doing well. Your note made my day.
Keep taking care of yourself,
Carol
Thank you so much for your supportive reply and insight. I took everything you said to heart. Coincidentally, I spoke to Mum's social worker at the nursing home and she echoed your points -- that I need to draw healthy boundaries to stay sane and that she fully supported that. See Mum when I can. Don't worry otherwise. Mum has to adjust and so do I.
Today I went to visit Mum and she was horrid. She pulled out all of the usual, familiar behaviours, accusing me of "throwing her away", and telling me that my kids will treat me the same way when I am older. Oddly, this time I didn't feel guilt, but I did feel sad. She even used the Chinese word for "filial piety", which is a horrible, abusive practice perpetrated on the younger generation in China since time immemorial. I know Mum was subjected to it as well, so I understand it's a value that is intrinsic to her identity.
I left Mum brooding to herself and told her I'd bring her grandkids to see her in a couple of days. I didn't feel badly walking away. A month ago I would've been a terrible wreck. I know Mum is safe and cared for.
Thank you again for your support and caring.
After a decade of caring for your mom, you've found a way for her to be safe and cared for and she's still making your life miserable. Even people who once had an even temperament can become nasty after dementia eats up the brain, but in some cases the nastiness was always there. You've had enough.
If she calls you more than once a day - and you know that she's okay - it's fine to not be "available" for each successive call. You don't have to be held hostage to her temperament even though she does have dementia. Please take care of yourself - guilt free.
Carol
"I should kill myself. With a son like you, what else can I do."
"How dare you do this to me. You deserve a bad life."
"When you're old your kids will put you in a place like this too, you'll see. And you'll deserve it."
"Get me out of here NOW. You're a horrible son."
This after caring for her for nearly a decade. I do understand that some of it is her dementia talking, but there's always been a nasty, mercurial side to her. She can be so mean, and shrill, and she feels justified. She can never be wrong.
I still do love my mom, and I want her to be safe and cared for, but I can't do it anymore, and with her progressing dementia and laundry list of physical ailments I wonder if it wouldn't just be better for both her and I that she quietly, painlessly passes away in her sleep.
Take care of yourself the best you can,
Carol
Take care of yourself,
Carol
Carol