My biological family is terribly dysfunctional, as you probably have already surmised from my previous writings. Our parents tried their best but my dad is a bully and my mom was a manipulator. He yelled and she cried, though Alzheimer’s destroyed that part of her personality a couple years ago, hence, the past tense. We may have recovered from this environment but a predator caused further damage. My step-grandfather sexually molested my siblings and I. The result is abysmal. I am the only person who sought counseling for the abuse and my sisters hate me for it.
I can’t permit myself to care about my biological family because they wound me so deeply. I strive to ignore them but my family really rattles me because they constantly criticize. No matter what I do, it is wrong, according to my sisters. They scapegoat me for stuff that I don’t even do. I’ve laughed about it but it really does bother me. I would like to cut off all contact. I think that the root of the problem is that none of my siblings have ever dealt with their childhood sexual abuse. They don’t realize that the pain and fear has morphed into anger and directed at me because I did seek counseling. The abuse will always haunt me but it doesn’t control me anymore. They should be angry with the deceased perpetrator, not me.
As our parents aged, I urged them for years to sell the house. My mother’s health has taken a turn for the worse so she is in hospice now. Two years ago sister #2 rented a dumpster and commenced to throwing out items without showing our parents the content of the boxes. My parents were upset but didn’t tell her. I urged them to be honest. They wanted to see what was thrown out and slow down the pace a little. They told her and she sent me a nasty email, which she shared with others. I’ve received a response from another sibling but I won’t open it because it will only upset me. Sister #1 is the Queen of Hate and #2 is close behind. I have decided to never respond to any of their emails. I don’t need to accommodate them so that they feel vindicated. I wish that I could afford an attorney and “divorce” the family.
Holidays complicate the issue. I fear that sister #2, her hubby, and two adult kids with spouses will gang up on me. Fear absolute fear is my response. Their words do cut and harm me. If I am ever murdered, it will be by a family member. I began avoiding holidays about ten years ago. The last holiday that I attended was horrific. I feel especially vulnerable since I have been unemployed and underemployed for a long time. My sisters erroneously believe that my parents are paying the bills. No beau to provide me comfort. Most of my friendships have become tacit. Old friends are busy with their lives and don’t seek constant contact. I have become more active in a faith community but it takes time to build relationships.
I don’t have many financial assets but I do have a Last Will and Testament. My closest friend, Allie, is the executor. She is my Logical Family, my family of choice. My parents and a few friends receive 10% each but I am thinking about removing my parents, especially since the money would either be directed to medical bills or into the pockets of my sisters. Plus, I want to make certain that my siblings get nothing. My nieces/nephews get 5% and grand-nieces/nephews get 2% each but I wonder if they should be removed, too. I have designated a charity to receive the remainder and perhaps I will just cut out the family entirely and give everything to friends and charities. I need to add the cats and some funds to take care of the felines for the rest of their lives.
Logic wins over bio any day!
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved
Showing posts with label dysfunction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dysfunction. Show all posts
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Monday, September 30, 2013
DYSFUNCTION JUNCTION CLAN
My mother has always been a bit “flighty.” She was considered to be of lesser intelligence. My father and sisters derided this trait. I considered it a ruse because she really was smart but did not show it on purpose. My father is the domineering type and would be threatened by her brain. She submitted since she did not want a divorce like her parents.
About ten years ago my mom became absent minded. She would occasionally forget things and would be easily distracted. She was in her late 60s so no one was worried. About six years ago the condition became worse and I urged my dad to get her to a doctor. The regular doctor was an idiot and he finally took her to Mayo Clinic. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s or a related dementia in 2009.
Mom was angry and denied that the doctors could be correct. It took her almost two years to finally accept that she was “losing her mind.” Her sister has Alzheimer’s. Dad was angry that he would have to take care of her. He blamed her and was rude. He implied that she got sick on purpose. I convinced him to attend a support group and he has finally accepted the prognosis. Unfortunately, his health is becoming frailer.
I live a couple hours away and call every week or so to check in. I always offer to come down and help with whatever they need. My sister #2 lives in town but her hubby despises our parents so she doesn’t see them very much except during times of need. I haven’t had a good relationship with my sister for about a decade. Our oldest sister makes up lies about me and has managed to alienate me from the family. I get along with our parents but I don’t even attempt to contact my sisters. No matter what I say or do, its wrong.
This all came to a painful point last year. Mum hasn’t been feeling well for months. I kept urging dad to take her to the doctor to talk about exhaustion but he wouldn’t. Neglect, maybe. She stopped eating and wouldn’t get out of bed. Emergency room. Diagnosed with pneumonia. Wrong. Diagnosed with blood clots in legs and lungs. Life threatening situation. She spent three days in the hospital and was released with intensive blood thinners. Factor V diagnosis.
I spoke with dad daily and he wanted me to come down after she was released. I made the plan. My sister then called and started yelling at me. She screamed that we were “at war” and that I “hated her husband” neither of which are true. I feel apathy for her and her husband, which is probably worse than acrimony. I asked her to calm down and said that she was over-reacting. I told her that I take orders from dad not her. Oops. She screamed, “You’re an asshole.” I hung up.
With great trepidation I traveled to my parent’s home. My sister is volatile and her family has guns. I am afraid of them. I am in fear that they will shoot me. I helped my parents that afternoon and my sister came over during supper. I was grilling outside when she came out. Panic. At least I had the meat pitchfork to defend myself. She didn’t mention the horrible conversation and was almost demure. I told her again that I was there to help mom and dad with whatever they needed.
I stayed busy with grocery shopping, cleaning the bathroom, washing clothes, baking, and other chores. Mom needed help to the bathroom and bed. We had to keep her awake and entertained because she wasn’t supposed to sleep too much. She was on oxygen and that was the biggest challenge to refrain from tripping on the cord. The machine made a loud whirring noise so it was stored in the bathroom. It was a big production to get her to the clinic for a two-day check-up and determine her blood-clotting factor. It was up to 1.7 and they wanted it above 2.0.
All went well until the morning of my departure. At 4:30am mom got up to go to the bathroom. She went okay and was returning to bed when she lost her balance and feel down next to the bed. I heard a noise and went running into the room. Dad and I had been sleeping. Thankfully, she wasn’t bleeding and seemed okay. I was worried because she will bruise due to the medication and could bleed internally. I asked dad about calling the hospital and he said no. I helped mom into bed and hoped for the best.
I was too upset to sleep so I packed my gear. I waited until mom was awake at 7am and checked for bruising and tenderness where she fell. Great sigh of relief that all seemed fine. I was jittery so I departed. I was so happy to be returning to my home. I am poor, underemployed, and lonely at times but at least I feel better when away from them. I have an intense fear reaction to my siblings who are bullies. They are kryptonite to my self-esteem. They have husbands and children to back them up. I have friends but my friends would not join me for family events.
Utterly exhausting experience. I was rattled from the unrelenting stress. I knew enough not to isolate or I would fall into depression. I joined my book-club for lunch and friends for dinner. I had to talk about the trauma. I had to get it “out” and writing is helpful, too. I mourn for a positive relationship with my siblings. It pains me to be distant from them, my nieces-nephews, and grand-nieces/nephews. I am not perfect but I have done nothing to deserve this treatment. I’ve tried to mend relationship with my sisters but they won’t listen. I gave up. I might as well be an only child. It hurts to be so alone.
Family divorce needed.
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved.
About ten years ago my mom became absent minded. She would occasionally forget things and would be easily distracted. She was in her late 60s so no one was worried. About six years ago the condition became worse and I urged my dad to get her to a doctor. The regular doctor was an idiot and he finally took her to Mayo Clinic. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s or a related dementia in 2009.
Mom was angry and denied that the doctors could be correct. It took her almost two years to finally accept that she was “losing her mind.” Her sister has Alzheimer’s. Dad was angry that he would have to take care of her. He blamed her and was rude. He implied that she got sick on purpose. I convinced him to attend a support group and he has finally accepted the prognosis. Unfortunately, his health is becoming frailer.
I live a couple hours away and call every week or so to check in. I always offer to come down and help with whatever they need. My sister #2 lives in town but her hubby despises our parents so she doesn’t see them very much except during times of need. I haven’t had a good relationship with my sister for about a decade. Our oldest sister makes up lies about me and has managed to alienate me from the family. I get along with our parents but I don’t even attempt to contact my sisters. No matter what I say or do, its wrong.
This all came to a painful point last year. Mum hasn’t been feeling well for months. I kept urging dad to take her to the doctor to talk about exhaustion but he wouldn’t. Neglect, maybe. She stopped eating and wouldn’t get out of bed. Emergency room. Diagnosed with pneumonia. Wrong. Diagnosed with blood clots in legs and lungs. Life threatening situation. She spent three days in the hospital and was released with intensive blood thinners. Factor V diagnosis.
I spoke with dad daily and he wanted me to come down after she was released. I made the plan. My sister then called and started yelling at me. She screamed that we were “at war” and that I “hated her husband” neither of which are true. I feel apathy for her and her husband, which is probably worse than acrimony. I asked her to calm down and said that she was over-reacting. I told her that I take orders from dad not her. Oops. She screamed, “You’re an asshole.” I hung up.
With great trepidation I traveled to my parent’s home. My sister is volatile and her family has guns. I am afraid of them. I am in fear that they will shoot me. I helped my parents that afternoon and my sister came over during supper. I was grilling outside when she came out. Panic. At least I had the meat pitchfork to defend myself. She didn’t mention the horrible conversation and was almost demure. I told her again that I was there to help mom and dad with whatever they needed.
I stayed busy with grocery shopping, cleaning the bathroom, washing clothes, baking, and other chores. Mom needed help to the bathroom and bed. We had to keep her awake and entertained because she wasn’t supposed to sleep too much. She was on oxygen and that was the biggest challenge to refrain from tripping on the cord. The machine made a loud whirring noise so it was stored in the bathroom. It was a big production to get her to the clinic for a two-day check-up and determine her blood-clotting factor. It was up to 1.7 and they wanted it above 2.0.
All went well until the morning of my departure. At 4:30am mom got up to go to the bathroom. She went okay and was returning to bed when she lost her balance and feel down next to the bed. I heard a noise and went running into the room. Dad and I had been sleeping. Thankfully, she wasn’t bleeding and seemed okay. I was worried because she will bruise due to the medication and could bleed internally. I asked dad about calling the hospital and he said no. I helped mom into bed and hoped for the best.
I was too upset to sleep so I packed my gear. I waited until mom was awake at 7am and checked for bruising and tenderness where she fell. Great sigh of relief that all seemed fine. I was jittery so I departed. I was so happy to be returning to my home. I am poor, underemployed, and lonely at times but at least I feel better when away from them. I have an intense fear reaction to my siblings who are bullies. They are kryptonite to my self-esteem. They have husbands and children to back them up. I have friends but my friends would not join me for family events.
Utterly exhausting experience. I was rattled from the unrelenting stress. I knew enough not to isolate or I would fall into depression. I joined my book-club for lunch and friends for dinner. I had to talk about the trauma. I had to get it “out” and writing is helpful, too. I mourn for a positive relationship with my siblings. It pains me to be distant from them, my nieces-nephews, and grand-nieces/nephews. I am not perfect but I have done nothing to deserve this treatment. I’ve tried to mend relationship with my sisters but they won’t listen. I gave up. I might as well be an only child. It hurts to be so alone.
Family divorce needed.
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved.
Friday, April 5, 2013
MAMA MIA
Dementia is insidious. Obviously, it is detrimental to the patient but it also affects all who care about that person. My mother was diagnosed with dementia a few years ago. Mom said that it would be better to have terminal cancer than Alzheimer’s and sadly, I must agree. She was angry about the prognosis because the medical researchers know very little about the cause, cure or even how to slow down the decline of mental capabilities. Dad became resentful because she was his servant for fifty years and now he has to take care of her.
It has been awful watching her personality disappear. The sparkle in her eyes only appears on occasion and the silences are increasing. She retains a little information but repeats the same question over and over again. I urged my father to place a chalkboard in the living room, where they spend the majority of their time, with the answers to most of her frequent questions. He had to procure a larger board because the questions have increased beyond the day of the week and date on the calendar. I’m sure it is annoying to endure the questions every day.
Sibling Number Two is a Licensed Practical Nurse and has worked at several nursing homes. She has taken charge of our parent’s care. She also lives nearby and has a couple kids who can help her on occasion. I acquiesce because she has professional expertise that I lack. However, they have ignored my suggestions to enroll Mom in dementia medical trials at the nearby Mayo Clinic. Mayo is one of the top medical institutions in the world and has a top-notch research wing. It is wrong not to take advantage of that resource.
During a recent trip home my Dad went to run errands and I stayed with Mom. We had just eaten breakfast and she wanted to go back to bed. Silly me, I should have gone along with her wish but I encouraged her to walk around a bit. She has always liked to sleep nine hours per night but now sleeps for twelve hours and naps a lot during the day. She walked about ten feet into the kitchen and started to get wobbly. I pulled up a chair and she sat down. She became limp and listed over. I managed to catch her and in about a minute she regained consciousness but was too woozy to stand. I pulled up a chair and sat with her.
My Dad had told me about her shaky spells so I didn’t call 911. They have been happening for nearly a year. This was my first personal experience with the condition. She is able to hear but loses all muscle tone and collapses. The episode tends to last a minute or two and then she is fine. Unfortunately, this was not the case. She would be chatting and then become limp over and over again. Sometimes, her leg would shake or she could slightly move her arm but she wasn’t able to control her body. She’d wake up enough to state, “This is the pits.” I wanted to have her lie down on the kitchen floor but she refused. I knew that I did not have the strength to carry her to the bedroom especially since I still am in pain from the whiplash.
Dad returned home about ten minutes after the attack began. He wanted to move her to the bedroom because she always got better after sleeping. We transferred her to sit in a walker with wheels (they don’t have a wheelchair) and moved her down the hallway. We got into the bedroom and were about to convey her to the bed when she went limp and slid out of the chair. I caught her so she didn’t fall down hard. A hard fall could result in broken bones or a concussion.
Dad called my sister who had worked the night shift and was sleeping. She came over and Mom was able to get up off the floor. They slowly moved her out to my sister’s car and to the hospital. I drove separately. I needed to because I began to cry. When Mom was lying on the floor I knew what she would look like in her casket. She has always been supportive of me. Once she dies, my connection to the family ends.
It was a quiet morning at the Emergency Room. The Medical Technician took blood and urine samples. Mom’s blood pressure and oxygen levels were monitored. Her blood pressure dropped when she sat and especially when she stood and her oxygen was down a bit. A saline solution intravenous drip was attached and oxygen administered through a nose tube. She had previously worn a heart monitor for a few days but it showed no abnormalities. Thankfully, Mom wasn’t upset but she did seem a bit confused. As long as Dad and my sister were there, she was calm. My neck began to spasm, probably due to the stress.
Eventually, the Doctor came in to make an evaluation. A Medical Scribe accompanied her. He typed away as she spoke with my Mom, sister and Dad. My sister had told me to “shut up” earlier so I remained silent. The tests showed that Mom was a bit dehydrated but there was no other obvious cause for the Limp episodes. After four hours, we took her home and she couldn’t remember that she was at the hospital. The next day she was back to normal.
It is frustrating to be so helpless. I remember a verse from Bonnie Raitt’s Nick of Time song,
“I see my folks, they're getting old, I watch their bodies change...
I know they see the same in me, And it makes us both feel strange...
No matter how you tell yourself, It's what we all go through...
Those eyes are pretty hard to take when they're staring' back at you.”
Aging is a natural process but it is still excruciating to experience. My Mom is enduring a double death, first with dementia erasing her personality and then it could take years before her body dies.
Sibling Number One began her campaign of hatred against me thirty years ago and has managed to infect the rest of the family with her lies. I am already estranged and feel very vulnerable in their presence. I want Mom to be happy but they have never treated her well. My sisters aren’t nice to her. Our Dad has belittled and bullied her for as long as I can remember. He may suffer from self-inflicted homophobia but he doesn’t have the right to be mean to Mom. She should have divorced him years ago. He is taking care of her now but begrudgingly. I would not be surprised if they moved her into a nursing home soon. Due to the Limp episodes, I would agree but I think that her mental status will suffer as a result. She likes to be at home.
Mom’s older sister also has dementia so the illness may be genetic. My physiology is closer to my mother than my father so I fear that I may inherit this horrible condition. There is no way to avoid the illness, no cure nothing nada zip zero just total abject hopelessness. I don’t have children and my friendly nieces and nephew (kids of Sibling Number Three) live far away. I have very little saved for retirement and will probably end up at the county poor house. I’d rather commit suicide than experience a slow lonely death in an institution.
Missing my Mama
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
It has been awful watching her personality disappear. The sparkle in her eyes only appears on occasion and the silences are increasing. She retains a little information but repeats the same question over and over again. I urged my father to place a chalkboard in the living room, where they spend the majority of their time, with the answers to most of her frequent questions. He had to procure a larger board because the questions have increased beyond the day of the week and date on the calendar. I’m sure it is annoying to endure the questions every day.
Sibling Number Two is a Licensed Practical Nurse and has worked at several nursing homes. She has taken charge of our parent’s care. She also lives nearby and has a couple kids who can help her on occasion. I acquiesce because she has professional expertise that I lack. However, they have ignored my suggestions to enroll Mom in dementia medical trials at the nearby Mayo Clinic. Mayo is one of the top medical institutions in the world and has a top-notch research wing. It is wrong not to take advantage of that resource.
During a recent trip home my Dad went to run errands and I stayed with Mom. We had just eaten breakfast and she wanted to go back to bed. Silly me, I should have gone along with her wish but I encouraged her to walk around a bit. She has always liked to sleep nine hours per night but now sleeps for twelve hours and naps a lot during the day. She walked about ten feet into the kitchen and started to get wobbly. I pulled up a chair and she sat down. She became limp and listed over. I managed to catch her and in about a minute she regained consciousness but was too woozy to stand. I pulled up a chair and sat with her.
My Dad had told me about her shaky spells so I didn’t call 911. They have been happening for nearly a year. This was my first personal experience with the condition. She is able to hear but loses all muscle tone and collapses. The episode tends to last a minute or two and then she is fine. Unfortunately, this was not the case. She would be chatting and then become limp over and over again. Sometimes, her leg would shake or she could slightly move her arm but she wasn’t able to control her body. She’d wake up enough to state, “This is the pits.” I wanted to have her lie down on the kitchen floor but she refused. I knew that I did not have the strength to carry her to the bedroom especially since I still am in pain from the whiplash.
Dad returned home about ten minutes after the attack began. He wanted to move her to the bedroom because she always got better after sleeping. We transferred her to sit in a walker with wheels (they don’t have a wheelchair) and moved her down the hallway. We got into the bedroom and were about to convey her to the bed when she went limp and slid out of the chair. I caught her so she didn’t fall down hard. A hard fall could result in broken bones or a concussion.
Dad called my sister who had worked the night shift and was sleeping. She came over and Mom was able to get up off the floor. They slowly moved her out to my sister’s car and to the hospital. I drove separately. I needed to because I began to cry. When Mom was lying on the floor I knew what she would look like in her casket. She has always been supportive of me. Once she dies, my connection to the family ends.
It was a quiet morning at the Emergency Room. The Medical Technician took blood and urine samples. Mom’s blood pressure and oxygen levels were monitored. Her blood pressure dropped when she sat and especially when she stood and her oxygen was down a bit. A saline solution intravenous drip was attached and oxygen administered through a nose tube. She had previously worn a heart monitor for a few days but it showed no abnormalities. Thankfully, Mom wasn’t upset but she did seem a bit confused. As long as Dad and my sister were there, she was calm. My neck began to spasm, probably due to the stress.
Eventually, the Doctor came in to make an evaluation. A Medical Scribe accompanied her. He typed away as she spoke with my Mom, sister and Dad. My sister had told me to “shut up” earlier so I remained silent. The tests showed that Mom was a bit dehydrated but there was no other obvious cause for the Limp episodes. After four hours, we took her home and she couldn’t remember that she was at the hospital. The next day she was back to normal.
It is frustrating to be so helpless. I remember a verse from Bonnie Raitt’s Nick of Time song,
“I see my folks, they're getting old, I watch their bodies change...
I know they see the same in me, And it makes us both feel strange...
No matter how you tell yourself, It's what we all go through...
Those eyes are pretty hard to take when they're staring' back at you.”
Aging is a natural process but it is still excruciating to experience. My Mom is enduring a double death, first with dementia erasing her personality and then it could take years before her body dies.
Sibling Number One began her campaign of hatred against me thirty years ago and has managed to infect the rest of the family with her lies. I am already estranged and feel very vulnerable in their presence. I want Mom to be happy but they have never treated her well. My sisters aren’t nice to her. Our Dad has belittled and bullied her for as long as I can remember. He may suffer from self-inflicted homophobia but he doesn’t have the right to be mean to Mom. She should have divorced him years ago. He is taking care of her now but begrudgingly. I would not be surprised if they moved her into a nursing home soon. Due to the Limp episodes, I would agree but I think that her mental status will suffer as a result. She likes to be at home.
Mom’s older sister also has dementia so the illness may be genetic. My physiology is closer to my mother than my father so I fear that I may inherit this horrible condition. There is no way to avoid the illness, no cure nothing nada zip zero just total abject hopelessness. I don’t have children and my friendly nieces and nephew (kids of Sibling Number Three) live far away. I have very little saved for retirement and will probably end up at the county poor house. I’d rather commit suicide than experience a slow lonely death in an institution.
Missing my Mama
© 2013 Ima B. Musing
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