Well, here's the rub - I don't CARE about my mother any more. She can go..... (etc). I just don't CARE. Something I said to the social worker (I've known her for years) : "Anyone would think that I GIVE a stuff! As far as I'm concerned my mother ruined my life - why should I CARE anyway?". They seem to think I'm some kind of doting daughter being misled by misplaced loyalty or 'love' (whatever that might be). I LOATHE the woman - she's given nothing to me the whole of my adult life. My choices have always been 'stay close to your mother and get damaged by her' or 'stand up for the truth and get rejected and ostracised by the world at large'. Mostly I've chosen to keep out of her way and not HAVE to stand up for the truth. My husband was stunned by her behaviour (after years of just hearing my side of various conversations on the phone) when we visited her. He had NO idea it was so bad!!!
I watched a documentary about teenagers and eating disorders once. I saw how bad this girl's family was for her. They treated her like an irritation and a nuisance instead of with proper attention and respect. It was far from a healing environment. And yet the place where she had been treated as a resident sent her home with the message that compliance with parents meant she was getting better - I could only see a quick deterioration ahead. It was the last place where she could continue to recover. These 'nice' parents who 'only had their daughter's interests at heart'. How could the professionals be so blind? (If any has seen the Ken Loach film, Family Life, they'll get the general idea!]
ALL I've tried to do in recent times is 'the right thing' by her - she's alone, nobody else is around to look out for her and she's VULNERABLE.
But it seems that ALL I can think about now is myself. [So that's something else to stoke the flames with (guilt, inappropriateness)]. I've experienced so much anger and belittling from people because I have tried to represent my mother honestly and fairly. All I want to do is PROVE that I'm right, to right my world, to stop people humiliating me and damaging me. And I'm trying to get that under control. It's pointless, I am so unimportant in all this. I'm just a little cog and the more I fight, the more the wheels will grind against me. I had a dream about it - it likened my situation to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Try to buck the system and the system will destroy you - however crazy and unfair and 'wrong'. People want to destroy what they don't understand.
I'll add that the meeting which started all this in January was supposed to be an 'end of life' discussion - but we didn't have that discussion - I found myself under attack - I didn't even have a context for what went on in that meeting. i gathered my mother had been labelled as 'manipulative' from day one and that was it as far as they were concerned. Oooh - as I wrote that I felt such rage, such impotent rage, such speechless, important rage. Sick bi***es.
The Mental Health Assessor - all contemptous and hissy - had asked what it was I wanted to achieve and, after some thought, I said I wanted peace of mind for her. I'd never met him before but obviously (in retrospect) the care home had set him up to disbelieve anything I said. I felt attacked - I could hardly speak my mouth was so dry! He expressed anger ('It makes my blood boil') when I said that the possibiilty of autism being the source of my mother's challenging behaviour had come from my son's paediatrician. I said 'if he knew the amount of pain there was in families, he'd know her suggestion was a gift'. I know I managed to turn him around - he was 'mellowed' by some of the things I said. I can only assume that, if the social worker completely dropped me, they will all be throwing their lot in with each other. I just don't know which way to turn - who will be our 'saviour'!! Where's the way 'in'? Who's got the key?
My conclusion is that nobody will open the door while I'm in this insane state!!!!!
Me, me, me. Pay attention to ME. I am credible - stop discrediting me. Stop pushing me out. Aaagh! (Goes tumbling down the stairs)
OK you win - I'm such a nutjob now that I'll discredit myself if I so much as open my mouth!!!!! You WIN!
But it isn't just pride - it's my 'sanity' that's at stake. If you 'prove' I'm wrong (even tho I know I'm right), then all that I've built up in recent years will have crumbled. I WILL have to end up (the destiny I have fought so hard against) in a mental hospital or dead.
Look : autism (not the really obvious 'traditional' kind) is something which is of the variety 'now you see it, now you don't'. Mothers are often accused of Munchausen's if they try to get a diagnosis for their children. When autism was first being recognised, mothers were blamed for it (it 'must be' because they are cold and unfeeling). I was ready for that in relation to my son. There are support groups for parents - and forums.
But I didn't expect to get it from a care home and from mental health professionals working with adults. I had taken 'Aspergers-in-my-life' for granted. It was part of my life. I just accepted it. I went to conferences. I'd take a certificated University course. I'm well regarded within the system - especially by people with autism because I understand things from THEIR point of view. I KNOW how hard it is for them - we make it as hard for them as they make it hard for us.
But, of course, I'm one on my own in my current circumstances. There may be a handful of us around the country - but Aspergers wasn't even know when my mother was born. Elderly people just don't 'have' autism. Mental health workers don't have the knowledge or experience to recognise it. And yet - like so many teachers - claim to be all-knowing about their area of 'expertise'.
What really stopped the mental health worker in his tracks (OK so this was cleverly manpulative of ME) : I turned to my husband and said 'do you mind if I talk about you' and then went on to describe my situation in relation to my WHOLE family. He was also 'impressed' by the fact I'd been in therapy (der?). So by the time we ended the meeting, I was so credible in his eyes that I had to produce (was the only person qualified to do so, he said) this d*** communication care plan. So the care home could act out their own (passive) aggression on me. "We're not cooperating. Just try to make us. Nyah, nyah."
It's simply childish.
And I COULDN'T COPE WITH IT.
It's all my own fault. Nobody would have expected me to break in the way I did. They tell me my mother's dying and I go to a meeting to discuss her dying wishes - nobody said 'oh we've decided she's alright now'. Nobody took care around someone who just might be feeling fragile. (Wouldn't anyone be fragile dealing with a dying parent??). I must look very very tough and strong. I was happy and attractive and slimmed down last year, my year of freedom and new starts. All I see now is someone who looks fat and ill and pale and ugly and plain and dull.
Do you mind if I have another scream....Aaaaaaaggghgghghghghhghghghghhghghghghghghghghhgh!
