Tag: mean

Grieving for my mother while she’s berating me

angry ladyFor the better part of two years, my mom has been uncharacteristically suspicious and mean. It took me a while to adapt to the understanding that the changes in her brain were altering her personality in negative ways. My survival mechanism has been to remind myself, over and over, that my mom has a head injury. It helped me better understand how to approach and interact with my mom.

I have three people I want to thank for helping me adjust my mindset:

  1. My sister–in-law who works with individuals who have head injuries and has explained how similar the issues are to my mother’s dementia. She raises funds every year to support new research to assist head injury survivors.
  2. Kate Swaffer who is diagnosed with early on-set dementia.
  3. Lynda Alicudo with Leading Executive who suggested I start to mourn the loss of my mother.  It helped me appreciate the familiar moments with my mom and recognize that her behavior was not personal.

As I reflect on how much my mom has changed, I realize how much I have changed. My mom is unable to adapt, so I had to adapt.

I also recognize that people change and move in and out of our lives as we age. My friendships have changed as circumstances and personal choices divide and reconnect us over the years. I understand that right now, I don’t like my mom. However, I will ensure that she is safe and happy and enjoy the moments when the mom who raises me reappears. Thank you to the women in my life who have helped me on this journey.  Appreciated.

The demented struggle for independence has sharp barbs

nothingnicetosayI grew up being told to “keep it to yourself if you do not have something nice to say.” I have quite a few blogs that will go unpublished because I had nothing nice to say.

When I arrived my mom was in a crabby mood and the apartment smells like someone sprayed air freshener from wall to wall. That is unusual — my spider sense vibrates. I could ask if someone doesn’t feel well, but I already know that I won’t believe any answer that I’m given. My mom’s confabulations are usually very believable, but too often not very close to reality. My dad’s response will surely be “I don’t remember.”  I decide to watch and learn today.

We go to brunch and after my mom finishes a glass of champagne our conversation becomes unbearable. She starts to point to everyone around us and either state they are fat, mean or she just doesn’t like them.

I take a deep breath and ask my mom to name someone in the community she does like. This quiets the flame throwing for almost ten minutes as she contemplates my question. My dad’s initial retort is that they can’t hear us, so what harm do mom’s comments cause?

I use each visit to observe and learn. I can’t determine any specific reason for my mom’s mean spirit today. If this were a friend, I’d remove myself from their proximity; If it were my child, they would be spending some time in their room. I don’t have either of those options today.

My mom’s vitriol restarts with vigor as quickly as it faded. I move the conversation to discuss the dessert options. Using the tactics I would employ on my child or a friend that was acting the same way was a rookie move. My patience has left me and I don’t recognize the people I am having brunch with today. Tired.