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I got over Mom’s death. I’ll never get over the hare-brained perceptions of my immediate family.
My mom’s last 5 years were a double-header slide into a rare neurological disorder and the beginnings of Alzheimer’s.
(Both discovered via autopsy. That I insisted upon. Mom’s right to neglect herself did not supersede my right to know my damm family health history. Alas, one of the sickest win-wins in modern history.)
OK. Back to while it was all happening—
Stepdad’s assessment of Mom: She’s crazy.
Aunt’s (Mom’s sister’s) assessment of Mom: Anxiety. And she eats too many bananas.
Well thanks, everyone. That would make perfect sense, if we lived in the land of make-believe. Or a primitive tribe in the rainforest.
Shoot, maybe I should have joined them in la-la land. My quests to get Mom to a doctor.... explore home safety modifications.... bring in some help.... etc were futile.
And stressful beyond description.
If had a nickel for every time I tried to explain “executive function” (or lack thereof) to the bystanders who (ostensibly) did not have dementia. Aaaargh.
Keep praying. Yeah sure.
With friends, I have talked about it a little bit, but I've found that though most can sympathize with me, they just don't fully understand, especially because most of them have very different relationships with their mothers than I have with my mom.
I've had people say, "Well, they took care of us, so we have to take care of them." That type of thing. I've actually been taking care of my mom in one form or another emotionally since I was a teenager. My kids have never had the typical grandma either.
A lot of the time I feel like I'm keeping a lot to myself and when people ask me how I'm doing, it's just, "Oh, staying busy!" That's why this site is so helpful for me, plus I have a therapist once a week that I talk to that helps me to deal with how I feel about all of this.
We definitely do need some outlets, or else we'll explode. Also some "normal" time as Bootshopgirl mentioned, and to be able to laugh sometimes is always good.
We here understand where you are. We can offer support, ideas and understanding. We have been there.
The parentification never stopped, until I stopped it — in my early adulthood. Mom would have gladly kept me in “daughter-husband” mode forever. I had to move on. I didn’t know how. But I had to.
So awkward. Neither Mom nor I had the words for what was so “off”. And we did not have the tools to help us reset.
Blossoming into my own person meant that Mom lost her crutch and her mirror. I pretended that I did not feel like a traitor. Mom put on a surface show of being a well-rounded empty-nester. But Mom’s struggle was obvious to “the only one who understands” — a.k.a. ME.
We did our play-acting. Separately and together, Mom and I presented as “normally” as our acting skills allowed. We got along as adults, in our own way. Mom’s undercurrent of need was always there, though. That undercurrent of me being “the answer.”
So what if I was inexplicably depressed and anxious after every phone call and after every visit? I stuffed that down.
The decades rolled by. Then Mom & I hit “that age.” My middle-aged peers and I became caregivers (of some sort) to our mothers. Boom. Another disconnect — for me.
My friends’ caregiving tales were not always neat and tidy. But those adult daughters took a certain healthy pride in overseeing the natural progression of life.
To me, that “natural progression” was one trigger after another. And it nearly did me in.
I’m 63 so lots of friends had similar situations but none were the Lone Ranger like me. I would find myself talking them to death about my folks latest adventures. My long suffering wife would deftly change the conversation so that I’d shut the f.. up.
I don’t remember when I discovered this site but it’s been awhile. I didn’t post for a long time just lurked around reading. Oh! Shower chairs! Who knew?! You can’t reason with dementia......Divert...Fib..Hell yes!
This forum became a great outlet for me. I learned a lot, chatted a lot and shut up a bit around dear wife and friends. I also learned that all things considered, I had it pretty good compared to lots of others. Some horrifying stories come through here.
Mom died last month but dads in memory care about 12 hours away. Still in the caregiver army.
I too was able to separate somewhat. Left home at 16, but got married at 20 and moved back close to home because we wanted the kids to go to school here, and to be close to my grandpa, whom I loved dearly (he passed in 2007).
I can definitely relate to the gut-turning anxiety every time the phone would ring, or even just hearing mom's voice. I never knew what crisis would await next. I often wake up with a knot in my stomach for no reason, ever since I was a kid.
I had to go no contact for about a year when I was pregnant with my youngest and immediately thereafter because I had had a miscarriage before and I just could not deal with a high risk pregnancy and mom's drama at the same time. She would not listen to or respect any boundaries that I tried to set.
Now, as she has declined to the point that she cannot live on her own, and after more rounds of dysfunctional family drama between my mom and sister, I am once again in that role.
It does feel like play acting to outsiders, at least to me. If I say how I really feel sometimes, it seems callous and uncaring, even disrespectful, to those who have loving relationships with their moms.
It's not that mom is a bad person, it's more like she is a little girl that never grew up, and so I became constantly the parent. It is very awkward.
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