Mom got her attention, and then tried to hide what she said. And surprise, the specialist didn't find anything wrong with me.
And you wouldn't believe the show she put on a year later when I was in a car accident. 
I would believe it.
Years ago, the day before a family wedding, my then h took an overdose of antihallucinagens. I knew they were unlikely to do much harm, but thought I ought to get him checked at casualty. So, I rang my parents, to sit with my d while I took him. Big mistake.
Parents came round, but dad insisted on coming with me to the hospital. Several hours later, we all came home again, after the doctors checked that nothing major was likely to happen to h.
Next morning, I had to deliver a letter to our GP to explain what had happened. So we were late setting off for the wedding. H didn't go, but the rest of us did. I made it very clear in the car that nothing was to be said, because it was not our day, but my cousin's (mum's side).
After the wedding, all of a sudden, my family started coming up to me one after another, with very earnest faces, and giving me rather too long hugs, and saying things like, you are brave!! and if there is anything we can do .... I wanted the ground to open up, but I did my usual trick of smiling politely, and not adding any information.
Then i watched mum. She was going round the whole place; outside the church and later the reception too. She would stand near some people, then be moved to sobs, and almost tears. Then, when they did what any reasonable people would do, and asked if she was ok, I saw her time after time, buckle at the knees, and have to be caught from falling to the ground, and then consoled as she poured out to these complete strangers that her daughter's h had tried to commit suicide the day before. She even did this to the parents of the groom, who none of us knew!! Then, when she had sucked those people dry, she would recover her spirits really quickly, and move to the next targets, and go through the whole game all over again.
Looking back, it seems to me now like a comedy sketch, but I think this is because the pain of that particular event has gone somewhere inaccessible, and all that remains is my mum, like a recurring nightmare, going from one person to another, and those earnest looks and horrible hugs of sympathy.
And the weird thing is, if anything it was my crisis, and I should have been the one to determine if it was as catastrophic as she was making out, and it never ever was. But Ns have no interest in truth. All they want is the glow of attention, and the spotlight full on them.
