. . . And the Al-Anon Meetings
I could write about LJ Idol and how if you came here to help me, it's too late now and you are wasting your time. Of course, meta-writing usually doesn't help one's case. Yet, I have no worried because another topic popped up into my mind after thinking about that!
I wasn't sure what to do. My mother was extremely sick, but she wouldn't admit it. She was bruised from head to toe, including her entire face, and she wouldn't stay in the house. She insisted that she would tell people that she had fallen. Honestly, it would be the truth. She couldn't stand or walk. She would fall with every bit of motion she tried. However, I begged her not to say that because that is the class excuse given for when somebody abuses somebody else. Of course, as the "sane" one in the house (my sister is sane, she just has Asperger's, but sadly, that's not how people tend to look at it and it makes me angry, but that's a post for another time), I would be the one charged with abuse. I later found out that somebody did charge me with elderly abuse (I never abused my mother in any way; never hit her, never punched her, never bit her - if anything, she abused me more by falling on top of me). When she would pass out, she'd wake up and beg us not to call 911. She was passed out one time and we did call 911. They did nothing to help her.
Briana and I knew that there was something deeply wrong. It had started long ago, but I didn't know it. Briana was in the car with her and she has passed out in the car. Briana then had to reach over and put the car into park so that it didn't hit any other cars. (Briana never learned how to drive and she seems very happy with her adult tricycle).
I didn't know this. I was in the car one time and my mother took a sip of water. After she did this, water ran out of her nose and she thankfully used a tissue to catch it. I told her that it wasn't normal, but she said it always happens and is fine. I put up with my mother constantly telling me that I couldn't leave her alone even though I needed to get things done. I put up with her coming through my room with adult diapers full of feces, falling on my floor, staying there for two or more hours (which she denied, but it was), and then having to clean up after her. Briana and I dealt with having to constantly clean a feces-smeared bathroom that our mother had claimed she cleaned. We would go into the bathroom and every surface was smeared with feces. When I say every surface, I'm not joking.
I dealt with trying to keep my mother company, but having to tell her that I can't sit in her bedroom and keep her company 24/7. I would tell her that I needed to have a life. She didn't care. She would whine and complain and say that I owed it to her for raising me. Yes, she literally did tell me that I owed this to her rather than being happy for me for wanting to have a life. She wouldn't eat and she wouldn't tell Briana or me what was wrong.
When we would bring her to the doctor, the doctor wouldn't listen to us. He'd ignore what we have to say and only listen to what she said.
Everything finally came to a final breakthrough when I was dog-sitting one day. Dogsitting also involved making sure the mail and newspapers were taken in from the house where the lady lives. It was an easy, small job to do.
Briana told me that our mother had left saying that she wanted to check the paper for some cars because before I had known that her driving was so terrible, I said that if she wants to keep getting out of the house, she is going to have to buy another car. Having one car was not working.
I was going to a church service on Sunday nights that was mainly music and discussion. It was geared towards 20s-40s, but some older people came. The church where it was held was literally down the street from the lady's house. I figured that since I had gone by on Friday to take care of things, then I go by on Sunday evening to take care of things. After all, there would only be two papers and one day of mail.
My mother never came home with our car and I never got to go to the church service that Sunday.
Instead, the police called me. They said that I needed to go get my mother. I told them that I didn't have any type of transportation, so a police officer came to get me. The EMT told me that my mother's blood pressure became so low when she stood that her heart would stop beating. Briana and I begged her to go to the hospital and she finally went.
She was there for over 60 days. Maybe it was over 90s days. I kept trying to talk to her about legal things in practical ways. I told her why things were necessary. However, she would get agitated. I would finally get her to agree. Then I would go up with the documentation needed and our pastor and his wife. She would refuse to sign the documents. The only document she would sign was a DNR. That was about the only time she seemed truly lucid. She knew she didn't want medical intervention with machines.
There was one time that we went up there and she was curled up and on a heating blanket. Her body temperature was 88F. She didn't want the heating blanket and even thought it felt cold. She just wanted to go peacefully, but the hospital stuff wouldn't turn off the heating blanket.
Briana and I saw her confused about so many things. She didn't know what different buttons meant. She would get angry that a nurse wouldn't constantly come when she had just been there.
We worked with a social worker and she was finally moved to a nursing home. We had tried to get her into the nursing home that she wanted, but they didn't have room. Where she ended up wasn't our choice. However, the place is near our house. We still don't think it is great in that building.
I started trying to visit her every day, but it got to be too much. I had to start visiting on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Sometimes I visited on other days. It got so bad that I had to turn off my cell phone because even though she didn't have a phone, she'd somehow end up with the nursing home's phone and constantly call me. I couldn't take it.
A friend messaged me and told me about Al-Anon. I thought, "Finally, a fix!" For the first three weeks at any meetings, all I could do was cry. I couldn't say anything. Everything made me cry.
However, going to Al-Anon, I soon learned, I'm not here to fix anybody else. I'm here for myself. I'm here to learn that I did my best with what I knew. I'm here to be in recovery.
Of course I have Al-Anon friends. I don't mention anything about them because I'm not supposed to mention anything about them. I know this. Everything that is said and that happens in those Al-Anon meetings stays in those Al-Anon meetings. The only stuff that I can bring out of them is stuff about myself and stuff that I have learned and that I say. I can talk about some things with Al-Anon friends, but they are still very general.
Thankfully I was in Al-Anon when my mother passed. Of course I was still majorly depressed for about six months. I know that when somebody close passes away, I tend to be depressed for about five to seven months. The good thing is that I know this. I know to seek counseling if it is worse than that. I will sometimes even seek counseling during that time, but at least I know.
I don't go to Al-Anon to fix anybody else. I go to Al-Anon to help myself.
Disclaimer: This entry was written for home gaming entry for Week 10 of LJ Idol (therealljidol with the topic of “If you have come here to help me, you are wasting our time.”
I wasn't sure what to do. My mother was extremely sick, but she wouldn't admit it. She was bruised from head to toe, including her entire face, and she wouldn't stay in the house. She insisted that she would tell people that she had fallen. Honestly, it would be the truth. She couldn't stand or walk. She would fall with every bit of motion she tried. However, I begged her not to say that because that is the class excuse given for when somebody abuses somebody else. Of course, as the "sane" one in the house (my sister is sane, she just has Asperger's, but sadly, that's not how people tend to look at it and it makes me angry, but that's a post for another time), I would be the one charged with abuse. I later found out that somebody did charge me with elderly abuse (I never abused my mother in any way; never hit her, never punched her, never bit her - if anything, she abused me more by falling on top of me). When she would pass out, she'd wake up and beg us not to call 911. She was passed out one time and we did call 911. They did nothing to help her.
Briana and I knew that there was something deeply wrong. It had started long ago, but I didn't know it. Briana was in the car with her and she has passed out in the car. Briana then had to reach over and put the car into park so that it didn't hit any other cars. (Briana never learned how to drive and she seems very happy with her adult tricycle).
I didn't know this. I was in the car one time and my mother took a sip of water. After she did this, water ran out of her nose and she thankfully used a tissue to catch it. I told her that it wasn't normal, but she said it always happens and is fine. I put up with my mother constantly telling me that I couldn't leave her alone even though I needed to get things done. I put up with her coming through my room with adult diapers full of feces, falling on my floor, staying there for two or more hours (which she denied, but it was), and then having to clean up after her. Briana and I dealt with having to constantly clean a feces-smeared bathroom that our mother had claimed she cleaned. We would go into the bathroom and every surface was smeared with feces. When I say every surface, I'm not joking.
I dealt with trying to keep my mother company, but having to tell her that I can't sit in her bedroom and keep her company 24/7. I would tell her that I needed to have a life. She didn't care. She would whine and complain and say that I owed it to her for raising me. Yes, she literally did tell me that I owed this to her rather than being happy for me for wanting to have a life. She wouldn't eat and she wouldn't tell Briana or me what was wrong.
When we would bring her to the doctor, the doctor wouldn't listen to us. He'd ignore what we have to say and only listen to what she said.
Everything finally came to a final breakthrough when I was dog-sitting one day. Dogsitting also involved making sure the mail and newspapers were taken in from the house where the lady lives. It was an easy, small job to do.
Briana told me that our mother had left saying that she wanted to check the paper for some cars because before I had known that her driving was so terrible, I said that if she wants to keep getting out of the house, she is going to have to buy another car. Having one car was not working.
I was going to a church service on Sunday nights that was mainly music and discussion. It was geared towards 20s-40s, but some older people came. The church where it was held was literally down the street from the lady's house. I figured that since I had gone by on Friday to take care of things, then I go by on Sunday evening to take care of things. After all, there would only be two papers and one day of mail.
My mother never came home with our car and I never got to go to the church service that Sunday.
Instead, the police called me. They said that I needed to go get my mother. I told them that I didn't have any type of transportation, so a police officer came to get me. The EMT told me that my mother's blood pressure became so low when she stood that her heart would stop beating. Briana and I begged her to go to the hospital and she finally went.
She was there for over 60 days. Maybe it was over 90s days. I kept trying to talk to her about legal things in practical ways. I told her why things were necessary. However, she would get agitated. I would finally get her to agree. Then I would go up with the documentation needed and our pastor and his wife. She would refuse to sign the documents. The only document she would sign was a DNR. That was about the only time she seemed truly lucid. She knew she didn't want medical intervention with machines.
There was one time that we went up there and she was curled up and on a heating blanket. Her body temperature was 88F. She didn't want the heating blanket and even thought it felt cold. She just wanted to go peacefully, but the hospital stuff wouldn't turn off the heating blanket.
Briana and I saw her confused about so many things. She didn't know what different buttons meant. She would get angry that a nurse wouldn't constantly come when she had just been there.
We worked with a social worker and she was finally moved to a nursing home. We had tried to get her into the nursing home that she wanted, but they didn't have room. Where she ended up wasn't our choice. However, the place is near our house. We still don't think it is great in that building.
I started trying to visit her every day, but it got to be too much. I had to start visiting on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Sometimes I visited on other days. It got so bad that I had to turn off my cell phone because even though she didn't have a phone, she'd somehow end up with the nursing home's phone and constantly call me. I couldn't take it.
A friend messaged me and told me about Al-Anon. I thought, "Finally, a fix!" For the first three weeks at any meetings, all I could do was cry. I couldn't say anything. Everything made me cry.
However, going to Al-Anon, I soon learned, I'm not here to fix anybody else. I'm here for myself. I'm here to learn that I did my best with what I knew. I'm here to be in recovery.
Of course I have Al-Anon friends. I don't mention anything about them because I'm not supposed to mention anything about them. I know this. Everything that is said and that happens in those Al-Anon meetings stays in those Al-Anon meetings. The only stuff that I can bring out of them is stuff about myself and stuff that I have learned and that I say. I can talk about some things with Al-Anon friends, but they are still very general.
Thankfully I was in Al-Anon when my mother passed. Of course I was still majorly depressed for about six months. I know that when somebody close passes away, I tend to be depressed for about five to seven months. The good thing is that I know this. I know to seek counseling if it is worse than that. I will sometimes even seek counseling during that time, but at least I know.
I don't go to Al-Anon to fix anybody else. I go to Al-Anon to help myself.
Disclaimer: This entry was written for home gaming entry for Week 10 of LJ Idol (therealljidol with the topic of “If you have come here to help me, you are wasting our time.”