May 12, 2020
I felt like a real piece of shit today.
Actually, that’s a lie. I felt great for most of the day, just the end was bad. I’m at a breaking point. A few days away is great but 6 hours here and I feel like I never left. I began texting friends to see if I could stay with them. I’m pissed the fuck off that I’m the one that’s here, when my mother (my grandma’s daughter) is 20 minutes down the road. My grandma’s son is significantly further, but could be here if he really wanted to be. He doesn’t want to be. Neither does my mom. And listen, I get that. But…. why is this my problem? I will most certainly have to deal with this when my mother is much older, so why don’t the son and daughter have to deal with the mom in this scenario?
It’s because I jumped in, made myself apparent and needed. And now everyone’s thrilled I’m already here and isn’t considering the idea that I actually desperately want to go. I want to get out of here.
I think I wanted to come and stay with my grandmother and take care of her beyond obvious reasons. I have a shit relationship with my mother, and I know now that subconciously, i thought that maybe, just maybe, I could forage a relationship with grandma and that would somehow heal the gaping wound my mother left. Well, folks. It didn’t. It does not work that way.
My grandmother IS my mother, and then some. Sure there are things about her that my mother lacks that I appreciate, but the weightiness of the guilt tripping, the twisting of the words, the playing victim, the constant nitpicking of others until there is nothing left …. all of that seems to be an “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” situation. And I know what you’re thinking! I am my mother’s daughter. I have issues too.
EXACTLY. I am aware of these issues (a step that I don’t think either one of them is going to make) and in order to deal with these issues and unpack them and figure them out and feel better… is by not being constantly surrounded by them.
God I am so fucking tired of even talking about it. I am tired of sitting here pacing around wondering if I made the right decision, am I making the right decision, is this going to work, when in reality.. no one gives a fuck BUT me. If I want to make my life better, I jsut have to make it better. My gma went on for long enough tonight about how unpleasant and unhappy I am.. “you never smile” type of shit. And i just stood there with my mouth gaping wondering who ever told her I was little miss sunshine in the first place. I wouldn’t even count myself as happy go lucky on a good day.
Am I generally happier than I am now? yes. But am i generally not watching my grandmother give up on life and mourn the death of her husband in the most depressing house that is plastered with his photos? yes. SOOO. I don’t know. It seems unfair to gripe at my for being unhappy when we are a) just in a shitty situation and b) I am not supposed to be the source of all happiness?! How am I supposed to: keep up with the meds, clean the house, cook the meals, have “me” time, convince her to eat, convince her to exercise, convince her to talk to her friends, and still also smile?? Why is my best just not good enough. And why am I still waiting for it to be when it clearly is not? There is always going to be something for her to complain about. I might be helping, sure, but I’m not helping in the right way. Not asking the question the right way. Not saying it nicely enough.
Honestly. if she and everyone else could just shut the fuck up that would be so cool.
I know its brutish and mean but this is supposed to be a diary and i shouldn’t apologize for what i’m saying and feeling (i can always delete this later too i guess).
I just wish that, in the same way everone else is refusing to help more because they “just can’t take it,” I wish that I was afforded that same generosity. But I’m not. And I guess I’m not even trying to offer it to myself bc i quit my job and am still going to be here for at least 4-6 more weeks. Which might not sound like long. But god it feels long. Every day feels long. And every day feels worse than the day before. And i just have so much residual fucking trauma from already watching my great aunt die just like this, watching my grandpa get worse and worse until he eventually died, and now it really feels like it’s about to be round 3. And I’m so scared and tired and sad about it that I want to run away. And I think I just might.
Coping mechanisms (besides the obvious) would be cool to recommend if anyone reading this knows of any. I try to sit outside, do yoga, I smoke, I meditate, I do all the shit. And yet I still feel like the world is about to collapse around me at any time and I feel like a monster for being upset with my grandma for not getting better. I know it’s not going to happen overnight. I know it’s going to take twice or three tmies as long to get better than it did to get sick, and it took a while for her to get like this. but FUCK. When I see her lift her legs into the bed at one point, and then six hours later she can’t do it, and then six hours after that she can’t even get to the bed and it’s just so fucking apparent to me and all the doctors and everyone else that she is gettign worse and worse and weaker and weaker. and she looks at me with these eyes and says “i’m trying!” and I tell her I know she is but I feel like shit for wishing she’d just try harder! This is going to be the hardest thing she ever does in her life. And she’s 72. And I desperately do not want her to shrivel up and die like my great aunt. I don’t want her to half-ass fight until she gets sicker and is in a hospital and dies like my grandpa. I just want to relinquish control and accept that what I want, ultimately, does not fucking matter. It doesn’t. So why do I have to be here to watch it all play out?? WHy do I feel bound to the outcome, moreso than her own fucking kids?
I tell you what. I used to think I’d have a whole slew of kids. After this, I know I won’t have kids for a loooong time, if ever. I recognize a lot of this ranting is likely what a mother goes through. It’s that whole “circle of life” bit as the older resort to younger mindsets and whatnot. It’s fucking exhausting. And I commend all you mothers and other, actual caretakers out there. I can’t do it. Clearly.
This is the second time this has crossed my mind…
what if you get her attention, at a time when she’s clear enough to listen, and tell her point blank directly: if she wants YOU to be around to take care of her she’s going to have to accept some conditions which you will then instruct her on. As you decide on those conditions, you’re the one who knows what she can do and what she can’t do. Don’t leave too much, or even anything at all, up to her. You know what you’re working with. You know which things are certain (like for example, if she cannot stand without physical support) and you know which things she does have the ability to stop doing (unnecessary groaning or crying out your name). Tell her in a very matter of fact way that you love her and understand all the burdens she’s enduring but that you need her to understand you and your needs, boundaries and limits. She’s not a toddler. She’s a grown woman. You wouldn’t be putting any undue burden on her. You’re within reason to ask her to make an effort to consider your needs. You might even want to let her know that if the situation does not improve that you will need to leave and her caregiving will be left up to others.
Does any of that seem comfortable, and possible?
@elcreature See, we think alike, you and I.
When I came home from my little 4-day break, and I announced I’d quit my job (for fear of safety + being here is necessary + i’m trying to get some writing stuff started), I tried to “lay down the law” that I would be needing time to myself everyday, just as I would if I’d been going to work. I said we could start small, 4 hours or so at a time, and during that time I am unavailable except for total emergencies. Okay, she said. That’s fine. The next day, on day 1 of this implementation, I said something like “okay it’s 1:30 now, I’m going to go in the sunroom and work until 5:30. I have my phone, you have your phone. Call me if it’s an emergency. But do whatever you want while I’m gone, too.” She decided to just lay in bed, after already taking a nap that day.
Me (At 5 or so when I came inside) : “Why’d you decide to go back to bed? Have you been here the whole time?”
her: “well I’m scared to try to go to the bathroom by myself and you’re out there working so I figured I’d just stay here.”
My frustration… was palpable. She has gone to the restroom by herself a zillion times. i know because I have seen it. She did twist her ankle a week ago, and she’s focussing on that as much as possible, which is only setting things back more. My idea would’ve been she, i dont know, talk on the phone, go make herself something to eat, go to the bathroom, walk around the house, i don’t know. but certainly not sit in bed the whole time (then not be able to sleep later so we’re up all night.)
She tells her shrink that her family yells at her that she needs to be independent. I feel like I need to personally message the social worker and explain that no, no one is yelling that she NEEDS to be independent. However, we do WANT her to be independent. We WANT her to do something besides force herself to lay in bed for 4 hours when people leave the room. Of course i don’t want her to fall or hurt herself or push herself too far.
She’s not a toddler, you’re right. But talking to her sometimes sure makes you question it. Everything is repeated at least 4 times, and even if you made yourself as clear as you possibly could, the message is still jumbled considering she hears only what she wants to hear. Too busy nitpicking everyone else’s response to her to consider her treatment of us along the way.
“I’m the patient!” she’ll say, as she throws her hands up exasperated.
“And I’m just a person!!!!” I want to scream back. I’m not a fucking nurse, not a psychiatrist, a physical therapist, a dietician. You won’t even stand up unless i stand over you and practically plead for you to get up. Self-motivation has GOT to be a thing.
So long story longer, I guess I can say I’ve tried. I need to try harder. I’m not quite sure what to do other than to forcibly take my time and say, matter of factly, “I’m going outside for a bit, are you giong to stay here?” and then getting her situated and then I do my thing and then I come back and she’s in the same damn spot I left her. Frustrating as hell.
@kale nooooo! Ugh, wow that really sucked. I typed a response with too many embedded links apparently. The note didn’t post 😠I’ll try again and with less links this time (sheesh, this is the internet – links are the very way the internet works!).
What if you try comedy? Changing her ways might take some engineering.
Greeting cards
This amusing wig
Good old Pet Corrector (more of a joke than a serious suggestion).
Getting her greeting cards could help to change her mind and feelings which could lead to a change in her behaviors. It would be good for you because you could get time away for yourself. I manage a couple of greeting card accounts at work, Sellers R.S.V.P and Minted. They’re both pretty good and can be somewhat sassy. You can find RSVP at FedEx stores (and probably elsewhere) and Minted at Target stores (and probably elsewhere). It’s definitely not a cure but it might help, maybe and hopefully.
What sort of things did she like doing when she was younger? Is she able to go outside? Does she even want to?
Some comedy or entertainment might be really good for her but I know I gave weak ideas. What about non-comedic things like simple arts and crafts? She needs to be busy with something she’ll enjoy.
Does she use the internet?
Just going to see if I can post two consecutive notes, both with links. It’s not spam, I swear!
R.S.V.P.
@elcreature These aren’t bad ideas, and not trying to talk down at all, but I have tried most. I could buy a wig, but I don’t think it’d get her to crack much of a smile. She has a beautiful sunroom I’ve tricked her into sitting in a bit more lately (the couches are SO much comfier and also much easier for her to get up from since they’re not sunken down.) I’ve been reading to her a lot, which I know she likes. But she’s not interested in crafts or internet culture or anything, besides Facebook. (“True Life: my gma is addicted to Facebook”) She does talk to her friends on the phone, which is nice, but then she rolls her eyes and acts so annoyed about it the second she hangs up. It kills me. I, lately, have just been trying to let more stuff roll of my back. I’ve been trying this all along but I suppose my pure exhaustion at some of it is finally catching up to me and i just don’t care about what she has to say about Trudy said about Molly from the church. I entertain it, sure. I’m not religious at all but we watch the Sunday church services on Youtube every Sunday afternoon, and I make jokes throughout, which is nice.
She definitely does not WANT to go outside, but everytime I do get her outside, it’s worth all the back and forth it took to get her there. It’s just better. Fresh air can do a world of good.
She got put on some mild depression medicine a bit ago, and the doc said it would take a bit to kick in, which I think is starting to happen now. She doesn’t cry as much. She’s still in pain, still grumpy, but she’s calmer about it, which is nice.
@kale well, all things considered, you’re not a piece of shit, far far from it. And when you feel that way it’s not fair. I go through it too, today in fact I’m wrestling a little. With an imposition. It can take me down and oppress me unless I find a way to stand on top of this mountain. You’ve gotta do the same thing. Rather than the thing being predominant, find a way to get a hold of it and bring it under control. I was just contemplating out loud to myself about my own thing: I can handle undercurrents but this isn’t an undercurrent. It’s predominant and it’s crippling and handicapping me. I’m looking for peace and joy and I’m willing to do the work but that means I’m gonna have to “flatten the curve” of this imposition beasting over me. Can I do it? Can I achieve and succeed? Yes. Yes, because yes and that’s all there is to it. I won’t have it any other way. I can slip, slide, flip, flop and flail. Whatever, that’s fine. I’m still going to get on top of that which is currently on top of me. Period. I’ll figure it out. I’ll find a way.
And you will, too. Because you want to, because you need to and because you just will.
Do your friends ever come over to spend time with you there? Maybe that’s another step you can take while you’re working out the right stuff.
Oh, since you’re the primary care giver, shouldn’t you be in contact with her social worker, regularly?
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