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Author Topic: Mother Living With Me Update  (Read 3324 times)
Turkish
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« on: March 18, 2016, 01:06:02 AM »

The old thread was getting close to its post limit, continued from Mother Now Living With Me

So there have been no severe depressive episodes since a month ago. Things seemed ok. My ex has been having problems with the kids, specifically S6. She called the other night to talk, and we were on the phone for over an hour and a half. It was she JADEing him, implying that he was responsible for her feelings of anger and wanting to hit him, inconsistent boundaries, Splitting, threats to send him to me if he didn't behave... . I actually cried to myself hearing her talk. These are our only mothers. I'm not perfect at all, but I never had a dad to go to (though the Enabler dads people talk about her maybe are worse). My mom's neighbor also called me this week to say that he spotted tire tracks going into her property. That I needed to come up and help him put up a gate. That will keep vehicles out, not scumbags on foot. I have two kids I am both morally and legally obligated to provide for, 2.5 hours away, who have a depressive and borderline mom. My job isn't in jeopardy, but it may be precarious. I'm not taking another day off to protect the hoard.

After taking the kids home from class last night, my son started dysregulating. I'm trying to assert consistent boundaries. If he wants to cry and scream, then he can do it in his room. He did it in the car. Thankfully, it was only a ten minute drive. The scream-crying was too much for my mom. When we got home, she left to go on a walk for over an hour.

She told me today that she just had to leave to calm down because the crying was too much. This is the woman who always talked about adopting more children after I left the house. As an adoptee goes, I was a piece of cake. Withdrawn into my own world. Never threw tantrums. There was my pyro stage, but hey, what are a few Molotov Cocktails among friends? I don't think she ever knew about those... .

She had done the same thing this past weekend. I didn't think the kids were as rambunctious, but she took her teacup devil dog to go for a walk by herself. D3 wanted to go, but my mom said, "I'm going for a walk, by myself!" D3 spent time with "her dog" on the back porch. S6 and I watched Pacific Rim together. After almost 1.5 hours, I was ready to load the kids into the car to go look for my mom. It had been pouring rain on and off. She finally walked in, the poor devil dog in her arms, wet, but not soakingly so. I told her that we were about to go looking for her and she said, "it was fine. I always liked walking in the rain when I was a little girl," with a smile on her face. I can relate, and it was a warm El Nino rain, but it was odd.

I took off work to watch the kids today. I came back after I dropped them off at their schools. I pulled the car seats out of my hatchback and loaded the lawnmower in to take to the shop. Carburetor issue, beyond what I wanted to deal with given my El Nino-fueled 1 cm/day weed/grass lawns growing.

When I came back, I used the opportunity to vaccum my car of child detrius. My mom and I were talking well about things in general: her not dealing well with the kids acting out, my approach vs. their mom's, her appraisal of what's going on with my Ex. It was a good conversation until I mentioned that I had paid her truck registration online at the same time I had paid for my car and motorbikes. I knew it was due last month, and I had been mentioning it. She has been commenting lately, "you know that I'm still paying insurance on that truck."

So it was back to, "I feel in flux here, not wanted. The people at the clinic kept me prisoner." I kind of validated, but again pointed out that she was literally hallucinating at the time. She resoonded that it was because her brain shut down. I defused it for a while, and talked about crossing off one thing at a time, in the order of priority. We can't go to the mountains tomorrow to pay her taxes because I have to watch the kids. My Ex gets them in the evening. My son has school. We can mail them this week. She got that.

She started talking about how the NP (nurse practitioner) at the clinic manipulated her to come in for an appointment, then kept her prisoner. She said how she was given a test for senility and passed. I didn't mention that she was one point away from another test where they would have held her involuntarily on a 72 hr psych hold (5150 in California). I talked about her dreams of going to Israel, and that after the property taxes, she would have enough money to do so. Property, truck, legal issues with the property. Makes sense. "Well you just always have the answers, dint you!" I guess my common sense invalidated her. Though she was in danger from some ex in up there, she said that he was from my city. I said that we had a million people here. She said he could find me. I replied that he knew exactly where she was in the mountains.

She went to get her calendar to show me, and here things started to get strange. She showed me the appointment in Dec 17th. She said that her NP had written it, so that's why she went in. A few months previously, she had been put on thyroid meds, which she took herself off of a month here. I think that they misdiagnosed, and all of this is mental.

Then she flipped through February and March and she started quoting what she had written, "truck still not returned." "No Tacoma, may have to call lawyer." During this, she was saying how I was mean to her and controlling.

When I saw the comment about the lawyer, I got a bit angry, but held it in. I asked why. She said that [brother from another mother] was keeping the truck and using it. Nevermind the junk in the bed, and that it's a derilict, I said that he had a bigger truck of his own. She paused. I don't like threats against the pack, my kids, my mom, my friends, but not even from each other.

She said, "the deal was that I would go back in the Spring." I said, ok, so pick a date and I'll take you back in a month. "I want to fix up the house. You know the front door won't close because the floor is warped." I know, then thought to myself, the foundation was bad 26 years ago, the roof leaks, drywall is caving in in multiple rooms, there is visible mold, crusted animal feces on the linoleum in the kitchen that's been there for over a decade, and nevermind the hoarded mess. Then it got weird (no, seriously).

"I haven't lived there in 15 years." She was holding her calendar in her hands still, and I said that it had been 4 months. She looked at me confusedly. I said that she had been living there from 1989 until December of 2015. She looked at the calendar, flipping back, then stared past me. I could see her brain working to integrate things. I thought that she was going to cry. Then her eyes cleared and she said, "yes, I suppose you are right."

I felt badly seeing that. pwBPD seem to fear losing control. Truthfully, who doesn't? But I think it has to do with losing control of their dysfunctional coping mechanisms which have served them to survive, as it were, their whole lives.

My mom, in retrospect, has never quite been in touch with reality. I think she needs to go back now, as the inclement weather won't be an issue. 5 years ago, maybe more, I hinted about stepping in. She basically challenged me to take her to court to have her declared incompetent. I think she needs to go back, fall hard, and the issue will be forced. Given her paranoia, which is worse than ever, I fear that this will result in a permanent psychotic break. I don't think that her NP knows that she has had a life-long struggle with mental illnesses.

If I didn't have kids, this would be so much easier. I'm a Christian, and believe 1 Timothy 5:8. When it comes to choosing between protecting and providing for the innocent, as opposed to someone who's made a mess out f their own lives, I'll default to those who cannot protect themselves yet. I don't even mean taking care of myself for myself (what's that?), but myself so I can take care of my children.
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« Reply #1 on: March 18, 2016, 04:37:31 AM »

Turkish, I can relate to wanting to do what I hoped was the right things for my parents, but also feeling I needed to protect my children from too much contact with my mother. Some of this was the wish that my father had stepped in more to protect us and also realizing how much he actually did for us. He was certainly in a difficult position being the one who had to work to support us, care for us kids, and my mother's needs. Like the pwBPD who vary in their function, symptoms, so do the en Dads.

Don't underestimate your impact on your children by you being there for them as much as you can be.

My mother has her ideal self as a mother, and then, her actual self. So just like your mother, who talks about adopting kids- as an ideal- then there is the reality, that the behavior of an upset kid is triggering to her. Makes sense- if her own emotions feel overwhelming- that a tantruming kid would be overwhelming as well. While we have to be the parents, kids can make us feel as if we have less control. They are their own little people. They can have tantrums, play loudly, make messes. It's our job to stay calm during these times, which could be tough for someone with BPD.

All we can do is make the best choices and do the best we can in the circumstances we have.
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« Reply #2 on: March 18, 2016, 03:14:04 PM »

Turkish, I have been following this thread. I respect you so much for what you do, and the way you manage to hold it together. Don't know how you always do but you do.

Your mom is trying to get you to start JADE-ing. You know you can't win that one.Let her do as she likes. You seem to care for her much more than I do mine, whom I spend as little time as possible with. But at the end of the day all you can do is enjoy her lucid moments and let her handle her own dysregulation. I have seen the look change on my uNBPD mom's face when she starts to lose it. It is literally like a personality change. I tell myself not my circus not my monkeys. 
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« Reply #3 on: March 18, 2016, 11:13:54 PM »

Hi Turkish, wow you have a lot going on! Without a shadow of a doubt, your children need you more.  I do feel sorry for your mother, she is obviously having difficulty hanging on to reality.  BUT those little kids need to be protected, and they need you to have enough strength and energy to do everything that needs to be done for them.  They are already dealing with a mother who is not keeping it together, if she is saying things like she gets so mad she wants to hit.  Not good.  Those kids need the stability and love that you have, so they can have balance.  It must be very hard for you, but I do think that you are right in thinking that your mom will have to go back and let the chips fall where they may.  Wishing you all the best. 
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Turkish
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« Reply #4 on: March 19, 2016, 12:07:12 AM »

I've had the past two days off to watch the kids. We were going to the park this afternoon before i had to return them to their mom. My mom said, "I'm staying here." Ok. I didn't ask, but I knew something was up.

It took another 20 mins to leave (S6 and his slowness changing his clothes), and then my mom said, "I'm coming." I thought you didn't want to go?. "That was because S6 mouthed off to me." I loaded the kids into the car. "Oh, I guess I'll stay here since I can't find my cigarettes." Finished strapping in D3. She came out, having found them. I had the engine running and was about to pull out. I unclipped my key fob to extra lock the doors, and check the back patio, which she had left unlocked, and set the alarm.

When we dropped off the kids, I related our son crying Wednesday evening, and my mom going for a walk to self soothe. My mom told my Ex that it was too much, and she needed to leave, "it's what I can do; they're not my kids." I felt like asking her what she would have done if they were her kids, but I didn't. She was generally good with them all day.

When we were leaving the park earlier, I pointed out her cigs and lighter on the bench. She went to retrieve them. When we got home after dropping the kids off, she was searching the car. I think that she left them anyway, so she walked around the block to get cigs, and a new lighter, as I reminded her. I felt like asking her how she thought she could function, forgetting simple things despite a reminder, but I didn't.

I really think that I kind of have to "turn her in" if she goes back. I can't leave her to die up there without at least alerting the authorities that she's on the razor border of being incompetent.

Earlier at my ex-law's house, she was talking about walking more to me Ex, saying that she wasn't  going to end up in a wheelchair, unable to walk (like my Ex's 86 yo grandma). I said that we'll all end up there someday when we get old enough. She replied, "not me!" *sigh* ok.  
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« Reply #5 on: March 19, 2016, 01:21:21 AM »

Oh yes definitely turn her in.  The police and social workers in the community need to have her on the radar. She is unwell mentally, and could go for a walk and forget how to get home or something.
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Turkish
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« Reply #6 on: March 20, 2016, 01:25:50 AM »

Oh yes definitely turn her in.  The police and social workers in the community need to have her on the radar. She is unwell mentally, and could go for a walk and forget how to get home or something.

Last spring, she took the 4x4 on some back roads, looking for one of her lost Chihuhuas. She walked out, found a house, and called a tow truck. After an hour of searching, they couldn't find the truck. It's a small county, so the tow truck driver was sympathetic. They finally found it, high centered on a berm.

This past summer, she ran the truck off the road trying to turn around. They called me and I gave the tow truck driver my AAA (towing service) number, and though by their rules I had to physically be there to sign, he towed her anyway. I had talked to my mom on the neighbor's phone and she said, "I've used AAA too much, they won't tow me." Yes... .but she could pay out of pocket. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn't have rescued (enabled); rather, I would have let her deal with the consequences.

Today was her 74th birthday. No kids. I awoke a few times, but slept in until after 9. I usually get about 5-6 hrs of sleep, max. I needed to catch up.

We did nothing. My mom was on an OCD bent, cleaning everything. My Ex used to get up on Saturdays (even if we had cleaned the kitchen the night previous), and go on cleaning rampages. I'd retreat to watch the kids (feeding them, diaper changes, laundry, entertainment), and my Ex sometimes got so angry that she'd thereafter leave for a while. She'd come back, apologize "I hate that you and the kids see me like that), but it was WOE almost every weekend. Thankfully, that's over. I just gave my mom space. Her need is to feel useful, rather than soothe her ruminatiins about her childhood (which my Ex would admit to me, the anxiety of keeping a clean house).

I did wish my mom a happy birthday. Did laundry, yardwork. Picked up my lawnmower from the shop. I suppose I'm a bad son. No birthday card, nor present. I did ask my mom if she wanted to do anything, like go to the wilderness park. No answer, really, though if I had gone, she would have, too. We watched a movie on Netflix, and I installed a motion sensor light above the garage. I really wanted to go for a motorcycle ride, but felt guilty. It didn't kill me to stay at home all day. Did some weed eating. I don't mind yard work.

After the weed-eating, and a shower to wash off weed spray, my mom was on the phone for over an hour. I made some rice, and fixed her a bowl of the Indian buttered chicken I had made last night. She loved it so much, she said that I should go to chef school. The spices are from a packet, but everything else is fresh. I also add a lot of other vegetables, defying the recipe, something which used to trigger my ex, "why can't you just follow the direction? Why do you have to always add things?" Because I don't accept the world as it's presented to me? As much as I may comolain about her, my mom's a saint in comparison.

My Ex's H (aka Homewrecker) just texted me birthday wishes for my mom, which I passed on. Am I a character in a soap opera? Lol. My mom likes him. I don't remind her how he came into the r/s. I'm alone responsible for my feelings.

Anyway, she told me that she had called her friend, the Bi-polar one with whom she accused me of conspiring. I guess they had a good talk. My mom talked about how she seemed changed. Now in retrospect, I was reminded of how my mom idealized unhealthy people. I told my mom that it was only 4 months since she'd seen her, and that a 60 something person was unlikely to changer per personality. I didn't trigger her. My mom admitted that this person was alienated from her children and other things. I said that I was glad that she had finally called her, but to be careful. She took it well.

She talked about missing her friend (whom she had painted black up until this point). I said that she could reconnect when she went up there. She talked about wanting to get some things out of the house, like her historical flags, "you know I like flags. This isn't to criticize, but I'd really like to sleep in a bed rather than on a couch."

It's a hidebed, but I understand how the cross bar is uncomfortable.

So I'm confused, unlike a few days ago, now she wants to stay?

I can take her back, and she's welcome back at any time.

Here, with two opposite sexed kids, I'm thinking that D about to turn 4 needs her own room. She still has the emotional need to sleep near or with either me or her brother (3-4 am, she'll wander in to sleep with me 9/10 nights), but she needs her privacy. I could I've my mom the 3rd room, if she were committed to staying. I could sleep on the hidebed, and give my daughter the master bedroom next year. She's a girl. She will need her own bathroom eventually. A room is just a place to sleep for me. Given sleeping in a chair in a barn, a camper, a car, on on some guy's couch during my childhood until I gain slept on a bed for 7 months my senior year in high school (and then on a hide-a-bed again in college, I'm not high maintenance.

I wish I knew which way things were going. The equivocation is stressful.

I'm sitting on my back porch, listening to a loud party over the fence. I'm not the most social guy, but it sounds like fun.
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« Reply #7 on: March 21, 2016, 01:51:35 PM »

Turkish, I smiled when I read your last post. Because somehow I thought that your mom didn't really want to go. She might not commit to staying - and threaten to leave when she dysregulates - but she doesn't sound as if she's going anywhere soon. Still, do you think it would be wise to turn your life upside down for somebody who will keep changing her mind? Maybe just get a better hidebed?

At some point you might want to date. That would require a slightly more sophisticated approach to your sleeping arrangements Smiling (click to insert in post) In the meantime, did you ever get to go out for that beer with a friend?
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Turkish
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« Reply #8 on: March 27, 2016, 01:17:58 AM »

I think that you're right, that my mother really doesn't want to go.

There is still a 5 acre mess to deal with 120 miles away. I've mentioned repeatedly that her property taxes are due April 1st, and to look for the payment slips and her checkbook. She even asked if we could pay online. I said yes, that she could observe it and then write me a check. What I need to do is sit there and watch her dig this stuff out. There's no motivation.

Personally, I don't care if I could get $100k or even half that in inheritence evenutally. If the county eventually takes it, no matter to me.

Things have been generally ok. D3 has been sick, hit by allergies, the doc thinks. Their mom gave them up this weekend, though by the custody stip, she could have them. A trio to the zoo was cut short because my D was so miserable, and wanted me to constantly carry her. I got some allergy medicine. By mid afternoon, she felt better. We dyed eggs, and hid them in my backyard. That kept them busy for over two hours as I suggested that they hide them from each other in multiple iterations. Cheap entertainment.

S6, however, started dysregulating when he forgot where he hid two eggs. Dinner was ready (bbqd pork loin). He was sick and throeing up two weeks ago. Now he thinks that 7Up is medicine. We don't normally let the kids drink soda. Second upset, but I was firm.

My mom bought some expensive chocolate at the drug store earlier. She came and placed one of them next to me on the kitchen counter. S6 came by as I was checking my phone and ate it. This triggered my mom. I chastised him, but he was hung up on the soda and still, upset about the eggs. He gets obsessive, and I've long thought he was at risk for BPD because he reminds me of his mom. No dinner. He went to his room, laying in bed fully clothed. Pouting. Still upset about the soda.

I bathed his sister, put them to bed. He was upset. I hugged him for a while, even though he was being a baby and I told him that. His choice not to eat, or dress for bed. We had a similar incident last night, but he awoke ok, and was in a great mood until the egg incident. He needs his brain to reset, and this really reminds me of his mother.

After the kids, my mom asked me where she put the stuff she got from the drug store. I told her that she had taken it out of the kitchen. She hoarded her chocolate. She said, "what S6 did was really rude. I didn't like that," implying that it was his fault that she misplaced her stuff. I said that while he was rude to me, that she was already taking her stuff when she saw him take the chocolate. I felt that she was blaming his indiscretion on she losing her stuff. No, he isn't responsible for your feelings! In my mind, it was a wrong, though minor thing. Not in her mind.

I went out to the back porch after getting the kids to bed. She followed me out, talking about his much what he did bothered her, and then she started going off about how much kids these days were rude and had no manners. Then she started talking about be of her mountain friends, how her 20 year old son would rattle the knives in the kitchen and how she was afraid of her son. My mom's usual schtick: "parents just need to be harder on their kids," and given that, we'd all be back in the garden of Eden.

While there is a certain truth there, she was of course criticizing me. Kids have no manners these days, unlike when I was a kid. After 20mins, I redirected the conversation.

Generally, our kids get compliments on how good they are, like last week when a waitress did so, even if their mom and me were a bit frustrated. I see the pattern here of my mom not quite painting my son black, but being unable to deal with him. I was the quiet waif child. Seeing her now, I think it would have been so much worse for me if I hadn't been. She's nit emotionally equipped to deal with conflict. I also heard the, "I wouldn't raise kids these days, with the dystespect, etc... ." Angry Old Woman. This may be a crappy thing to say (which means I shouldn't say it but I will), but I'm glad I'm not blood related. Whatever inborn biogenetic bs I have, I alone own. We are all responsible for ourselves.

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Turkish
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« Reply #9 on: March 30, 2016, 02:03:43 AM »

Her property taxes are due April 1st, Friday. She never paid the October installment, but this fiscal year is due Friday, or they go into default. I've been remnding her every there week. She doesn't remember. This is her 5 acres in the woods, upon which sits her collapsing house and hoard. Animal feces encrusted on the linoleum. Drywall with visible black mold collapsing from the ceilngs. Water dripping into the kitchen area through the roof. A bad foundation, which has been bad since 1989. Basically, the worst parts of The Bible.

She was in a good mood yesterday until I mentioned the taxes. Non-BPD view: write a check, lick a stamp, and it's taken care of, done. BPD view: The Spanish Inquisition.

I asked her, as I have been, if she could find her checks, and also the pre-printed payment slips the tax assesor's office gave her. Cue Borderline Waif. She found the checks, but couldn't find the payment slips. I encouraged her to go through her bags. She couldn't find them (I gave her some space while I was doing laundry). I offered that we could any it online. She could watch me, then write me a check. This triggered a conversation about how bad business was these days (Angry Old Man like Dana Carvey type stuff). I said, ok, we can mail it. More AOM/W talk. I said that we'd been mailing things since the Pony Express, and that this was normal. More grumbling. She called her bank, after I looked up the correct prefix, but t was just after 5pm so she grunmbled about "banker's hours." "It must be nice to get off at 5!" This from a person who retired at 62, giving up probably $100-200 more per month from social security.

I said that we got the payment slips when we went to the county office 6 weeks ago. She got frustrated, and threw the checks down on the couch. "I can't deal with this, you're being to hard on me! My mail is missing, or opened." Here, she was accusing me or the kids of that. She did it again tonght, but more blatantly.

I went into the kitchen to make chicken tikki marsala. He spices were from a packet, but everything else was fresh. It took me about 40 mins, with the vegetable chopping, sautaying, and rice making. She came into the kitchen, scattering the checks on the floor. I helped pick them up. "Is this what you want? What are these?" I patiently explained. She went back into the living room. I alerted her when dinner was ready, and went to the back porch.

She had also mentioned something, and I don't remember the contexr, about not getting many hugs (my kids hug her a lot). This was a signal for a hug, but I have zero desire to be affectionate. I moved out the day I turned 18, away from the smacking, yelling, and general weirdness. I'm a bad son. So be it.

After she ate, and we dropped the property tax thing, she found me on the back porch. She was in a good mood, 20mins later. We talked a bit about other stuff. She went in, then came out and offered me some of her cookies.

She was awake most of the night. I normally turn off the tv when she is snoring. She was up when I first awoke at 545. She says she stays up most nights watching the headlights go by on the street. We live in a tract home neighbrhood. I've been sitting on the back porch for very an hour and have had yet to hear a car pass by. It's not yet 12 am where I am.




This evening, I got home and she was in a good mood. This morning, I had written out the  number for the tax collector's office for her to call. She called her bank, and the tax collector's office, but forgot how much she owed (in retrospect, I should have snapped a picture, and I could have phtoshopped a print out). She was Waifing, "I messed up several checks," but at least she tried. She was talking about how it was hard, as she just got cash from the bank and brought it down to the county. After some more conversation, with me being open and transparent, I wrote the envelope, and the check. Reinforced that I would send it, certified mail, tomorrow (today). She argued a bit about me confsing her, accused my kids of snooping again, but I kept my cool. Her reference was Christmas and the kids looking for presents. I told her that kids snoop for presents during Christmas. I felt she was trying to tie it back to her losing stuff. I'm not a "my kids are little angels!" Parent, but I don't like them being acused of that. It's totally invalid.

So I wrote what she couldn't on the check. She calmed down. She talked about going back in the summer. I said, "pick a date and start planning."

I think that she'll end up worse, and I'll get blamed for whatever crises are up there, but maybe she needs to fall hard. Then commit to a life. I feel for her, and can relate to wanting to go back, but I have no legal authority over her. If I didn't have kidsl i'd take this to court.I have them and a uBPDx to deal with, not to mention taking care of myself (what is that?) so I can take care of others.



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« Reply #10 on: March 30, 2016, 01:46:10 PM »

Turkish,

Just want to let you know that I see and applaud your patience with all of this. Your kind of unconditional care (amazingly coupled with pretty darn healthy boundaries, I might add) for your mom is really beautiful. You are walking that line of tension in serving God by serving your troubled mom with the kind of loose hand that is more respectful than she, or most people, could realize. I am praying for you often, and thanking the Lord for the wisdom he continues to give you.
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« Reply #11 on: March 30, 2016, 03:14:25 PM »

Thank you so much, claudiaduffy. I don't like reaching out for help, not even in prayer (which is ridiculous), though I did ask the Men's group at church to pray for me to be strong enough to take care of all that I am taking care of, and also to have a better attitude.

I forgot to mention that last night, when talking about her truck, I related the stuck on the road incident a month or so before I picked her up.

"It was a little stuck." 'It was stuck enough that the 4WD couldn't pull it out.' (Before I gave it to her, I had bigger rims and tires put on it, so it's slightly higher than stock.) "It wasn't stuck badly." 'it was stuck enough that you had to call AAA (towing service) to pull it out. You called me and I gave them my card number.' "I have AAA." 'Yes, but you had used up your towing miles because you'd gotten the truck stuck previously on some back road last summer. So I had your truck towed on my insurance.' "No." 

She doesn't remember that. Then again, my Ex, who was in her late 20s when I met her, flat out didn't remember the $3K I fronted her when we first moved in together because one of her friends suddenly demanded full payment of a debt. Couldn't. Remember. It's frustrating on this side, but I really can't comprehend brains or personalities so fragmented.
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« Reply #12 on: April 01, 2016, 02:10:09 AM »

So today, The Oddesy, with the sirens, cyclopses (cyclopii?) and whatever monsters all in my mom's mind.

We left this morning, the kids saying goodbye, D3 giving my mom a hug. Standard day.

As I was pcking up the kids from their mom, the metropolitan police called me. My mom had been riding in taxis all day. They caught her trying to board a train. We have local Bay Area trains, and there is a commuter train that runs from the Bay to the central valley of California. That's still about 50 miles short of the mountains.

On the phone, the officer asked me if there was some dementia or other things going on. I said yes, and that I'd be there in half an hour. Rush hour, but a reverse commute. I rushed home, 3 miles away, to check on the house. She had locked it up, and indeed taken all of her bags. And the dogs. She had left her purse on the chair in front of the computer. She's computer illiterate, but sometimes my screen fails to lock. I had tabs open to this website, but they were all other stuff. I don't think this was a trigger.

When I got there, the cop having told me over the phone that she didn't want to go back with me, they were leaning up against the police car. I lifted my "Terminator" shades. The officer, bgger than me and I'm a big guy, was friendly. I held out my hand. I was last in that parking lot last May when I reported D3's probably molestation. I really wish that I didn't know where it was, but I had told the officer that I knew.

My mom wasn't quite belligerant, but said that she wanted to go back tonight. She said that the kids hated the girls (her dogs). The officer said that he wanted to make sure that she was safe and warm and her dogs, too. The officer said, "there's more going on here, huh?" I lifted my eyebrows, but couldn't say anything with her there.

We loaded everything in my car. I asked my Ex to watch the kids tonight when I left her parents' house. This is not my main week. I don't get them back until Monday evening. Yes, I was pissed that I had to give them up. I made the mistake of telling my son that I had to pick up grandma downtown. He started in with the "why why why?" Mistake. She can't see them. They'll trigger her.

We got home. Same old accusations. Whatever I say is negative (projection... .and I've run this by friends who spotted this before I did). Her calendars have all gone missing (the implication being that I or my snoopy kids took them).

When we got home,.she unloaded everything from the car. I didn't bother to point out the folly. She day on the couch, staring, as I hooked up my new modem. I pointed out the purse that she had left behind, as well as the winter coat I bought her for Christmas. I went to get Asian take out. Fixed her a plate and brought to to her. I also found a 4 year old bottle of soy sauce, because she over salts everything.

She was appreciative, but also in a better mood because she was going back. I got the talk about how she had been on her own for so many years (60), and that no one believed that she could do it. This was a little earlier when I was in the spare room, on the computer. I told her, as I have so many times, that she will end up in the same place I found her, out of control, maybe commited. I turned back, and she walked out. After she ate later, she was more positive. I didn't bither to show her the pictures I had taken of her place: hoard, drywall and insulation caving down from ceilngs in multiple rooms ten years worth of animal feces encrusted on the kitchen floor, black mold.

I'm taking a day off work tomorrow, at a time I can little afford (I guess I'm working Saturday, which I was going to do anyway), and driving her back. What else can I do here? Anybody? I have no legal grounds or power, and even if I did, she's still who she is.

Talked to my brother from another mother tonight. Initially, I asked him to return her truck to her road, turned outward, but then I asked to drive it in. If she drives it off the road like last year, all the better. I'm not rescuing this time.

What I am going to do, however, is drive up to the local clinic, and alert her NP ("who shafted me, along with her little cohorts", and turn her in to the authorities. This may result in a permanent psychotic break, and she may hate me forever. So be it. I can't leave her there in good conscience. Like ten years ago when I hinted taking her to court to be declared unfit, and she chalkenged me, "just try it, amd we'll see!"

I have a lot of things I want to say to her tomorrow. She's an evangelical Christian. I really want to say Matthew 13:12: Whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them.

She's squandered everything that's been given to her. As long as I can remember. Living in a barn with no electricity, insulation, plumbing, or even an outhouse. Living in a cab over camper, living in a car, briefly, on the streets of Houston, with ten Llasa Apsos packed into a Datsun B210. Almost sending me into a coma due to heat stroke when I was 13 due to her dysregulation (it's probably why I can't do math). Even counting a horrible motorcycle accident I had when I was 17, the heat stroke incident was the closest I'd ever experienced to dying.imagine a 13 year old kid realizing that he could no longer trust his mother for anything. O know many of you can, even younger  None of that was necessary.

I can't say that I'm not struggling with guilt, and that's the crux of it. I feel (in reality?) that I can only do what I've done. Validation, DEARMAN, what have you, only applies band aids to a spurting atery. She needs to fall, and hard. But then again, it won't fix anything.
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« Reply #13 on: April 01, 2016, 03:45:14 AM »

Hi Turkish,

I am sorry things turned out this way. Given her history, there was always a risk that she would want to go back, yet the way she did it is quite frustrating.

You have always done what you can to support her and have been very caring. There are limits though and if she wants to go back so badly, it indeed might be best to just let her return. Very wise though to go to her local clinic and alert her NP.

It is sad, yet you also have your own life with your children to think about and your mother's behavior unfortunately is a destabilizing influence.

I was glad that you were able to help your mom when she was facing those freezing conditions. In spite of everything she is still your mom and I understand why you would at least try to do something to get her out of the cold.
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« Reply #14 on: April 02, 2016, 01:46:27 AM »

I took her back this morning, my 400km trek across California, there and back.

She was really happy. Hugged me and thanked me. I first went through the house with my Mag Light to make sure no one was there. The back doors were open, someone had been there. More black mold had spread on the ceilings, like a horror movie. My mom made a comment about the mold. I said that if someone came in, that she would be evicted for a health hazzard. No answer.

I had a mis communication with my BFAM (brother from another mother). He had returned her truck, but had kept the keys, at his work, 10 miles away. I told my mom I would be back in an hour with the keys. I drove up to the clinic to document that she was back. Her NP was off today. I had the desk girl read me the summary of the facts. I left out the hoard and the black mold, as well as the collapsing ceilings. Hopefully, the NP will call me back Monday.

My mom had hugged me, told me she loved me. She was so happy to be back. When I returned to give her the key, the truck was turned around. She told me that she had a spare in the glve compartment. It was not quite 2pm. I encouraged her to go and have the water and electricity turned back on. I had to remind her that it was Friday, not Saturday. I know that she's up there right now, sleeping in the filfth. No lights, even though I left her a portable radiator for warmth... .when she gets the power turned back on. It's only in the 40F range at night for the next week. She'll survive.

What I'm fearful of is that I'll get in trouble or charged with elder abuse or negect. Maybe this sounds selfish and narcissistic, but I have two kids to consider. My BFAM pointed out that detaining someone against their will is a crime. Even if I had full legal authority, how could I stop her from fleeing as she did yesterday?

Maybe like a co-dependent (I don't know, just theorizing), covering for her is enabling. When I dropped off the keys, she said, "it's really beautiful here, isn't t? I know you probably hate it, and are pissed at me. I can fix it up!" Mom, you've been saying that for 25 years. "Yes, but back then I didn't have the money coming in that I do now."

Utterly delusional.

Abut halfway up driving, she realized that she forgot her purse. It has her medicare cards, but more importantly, her driver's license. Despite it all, I liked being in the mountains, seeing my BFAM, whom I hadn't seen since Christmas. I want to chill with my kids next weekend, and explain, age-appropriately, why Grandma and the devil dog are no longer here.

I still fear that I may get in trouble.
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« Reply #15 on: April 02, 2016, 08:08:07 AM »

Hi Turkish,

I'm sorry for the myriad of painful feelings you must be or will be sorting through after taking your mom back. I know I would be as well were I in your shoes. Certainly no one can fault you for doing all you could to make it work. Your story and updates, including the reality of inviting a BPD deliberately into your home shows a resilience that few of us would so will only to venture into. As a Christian, you also have the whole willingness to share the love of Christ as being a huge part of this. You've had to balance many things, not the least of which is your own mental health and that of your dear little ones. You deserve an extra   and some kudos  Doing the right thing (click to insert in post)!

I picked up on two things as I read your post. You mentioned several positives throughout your update yesterday which I thought were significant. Twice you pointed out that she hugged you and said she loved you. It was a gift to your great need for your soul. But this all within the confusing moments of "am I doing the right thing?" There have been so many times when I wish the interactions with my uBPDm would've also been clear, not chopped into a confusing mix of blender emotions.

The other gift for the day seemed to be the ability you had to enjoy the beauty of the place (apart from your mom's place). You put on glasses of clarity, pulling the good away that you were able to see and receive. Gifts from above indeed!  Smiling (click to insert in post)

Let's hope that the fear of doing something wrong (when you said you fear getting into trouble) will be more a response to past fears while growing up than current fears. I'm remembering the verse that says "in Him is light, and there is no darkness." Such a fine line to walk, doing right, not doing too much. You've done well.


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« Reply #16 on: April 02, 2016, 08:24:24 AM »

Hi Turkish, big hug to you during this time. .  Your mother lacks insight and clearly is a very determined lady when she wants to be, taking off the way she did. Whatever the trigger. You did the right thing alerting the professionals and what else could you do only bring her back? She sounds like she is well enough not to be declared incompetent yet not insightful enough to co-operate with or appreciate qwhat might be in her best interests. Letting go is so hard I know. We know this

only goes one way with dementia, while they believe they are as capable as ever,  it is absolutely tragic. Can you take a 'breather' for yourself now? Decompress a bit?
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« Reply #17 on: April 02, 2016, 01:26:15 PM »

Hey Turkish, you did the best you could. BPD - you can't cure it nor control it. So let yourself off the hook. You alerted the authorities and that was all you could do.

I know with my uNBPD mom as soon as I reconciled myself to being permanently in the wrong I started to  relax about it. Yes, I would love her to live a more decent life but she has got to want to. Which she doesn't. Enjoy the peace and catch up on some self-soothing. It won't last. Pretty soon mom'll be calling to say nobody cares about her. Then you'll be sorry you wasted your breathing space on guilt Smiling (click to insert in post)  , Khib
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« Reply #18 on: April 02, 2016, 06:39:09 PM »

Hi Turkish.  Many hugs to you my friend.       I've been reading your threads on this and I have had you in my prayers and in my heart.

You did the right thing, both when you moved her in with you *and* when you brought her back at her insistance.   :'(  I agree that she needs to fall hard.  It think it was a great idea to let the NP know she is back.  Have you thought about notifying the police/sheriff?  If you have a copy of the police report from when she tried to get back on her own, that may be helpful.  I think documentation may be important here.

Concern about being accused of elder abuse is not selfish at all.  Have you called your state elder care department to see if they can answer questions or refer you to an agency that can?  How about consulting with and elder care lawyer (usually first visit is free)?  Do you think you would be less worried if you could speak to someone about options?   I wonder if someone of the law board could help.

Turkish, I may not always post but I do read and like I said you are in my prayers.   
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« Reply #19 on: April 03, 2016, 12:02:07 AM »

I didn't technically turn her in, but I will Monday.

I didn't go into work today to meke up not the day, but the work. As much as I minimized my time with my mom, and had feelings of resentment (maybe I was cintrolling?), it was lonely and emoty here today. The one dig she left won't come to me. I can tell she's anxious and depressed. I imagine my mom sitting up there tonight in the dark. It didn't have to be this way. I feel like a Leaver now, like with my Ex, what could I have done better?

Should I have gotten pay tv? Set her up in the spare room with a proper bed? It wpuldnt have made a difference in the long run. She was still attached to her old life, and hid her finances from me. I really could have taken care of it all. Could I have validated that she was more useful?

I talked to the neighbor today. She said that she often saw my mom going through the trash. I said it was probably to look for whatever she accused me and the kids of taking. I have a 1000sf home, not cluttered. The neighbor told me that she complained about the kids, too. She only had to deal with them 2 or 3 nights per week, the following mornings for an hour as I got them ready for school, and Friday night through Monday mornings on my weekends. These are the (proverbial) grandchildren she had begged me to have for 15 years. She couldn't even stay another two weekends for her granddaughter's 4th birthday. She fled, like a Waif. She used to do this at bbqs we had at friends' houses in the mountains. Some comment was made that she didn't like, ergo, "I'm not wanted. Fleeing keeps me safe."

If the NP has time, I'll spend 5 mins laying out the background: how in 1983, she moved us to the mountains with no electricity, plumbing (not even an outhouse), I had to walk there and back down a thousand foot canyon to bring back water from the river in gallon milk jugs, how we had only a kerosene heater in an uninsulated barn shell, ate cold food out of dented cans ... .she lost it in foreclosure, just like her city home, so we lived in a camper, etc... .

I was almost taken my CPS when I was 13. If they had caught up to us a year earlier, and viewed the barn shell which quickly filled with dog crap, I would have been taken then. 50 egress and assorted animals (goats, chickens). Nothing like being 12 and arriving "home" to the mattress on the plywood which was a bed for me and her, and seeing a bitten off puppy head left on the pillow by an aggressivd Llasa Also who attacked her sister's litter. I won't say what I saw of the other remains in the litter box downstairs in the dark barn. I remember it clear as day, however, 32 years later. I think it was then that I walled of a lot of my emotions, or they just died.

When we were in the city two years previously, she and some friends tried to make money from rabbits. Some bunnys were sold on Easter. Some adults were slaughtered in the backyard. I wish I didn't know what a rabbit screaming sounds like, but I do. We were fed them in soup a few hours later. I guess I wasn't cut out to be a farm boy, but I coped to please... .or survive. O vartied around a literal rabbit's foot in my jacket pocket for a few months in 5th grade. It didn't smell. I don't know why I did it, or how I got it. I don't even remember feeling any emotion about it, until one day I threw it away, because I realized that it was weird. The Silence of The Rabbits.

I won't go into that much deatail, of course. Just the highlights:

'83: living as she is right now, thugh worse now with the mold. Circa 1883, but with flashlights rather than kersosene lamps.

'84: taking me out of school for 5 months, finally caught by the sherrif and CPS.

'85: temporaily homeless (in a car, and one night in a shelter) on the strrets of Houston, Texas, and a failed 2.5 week attempt to build a new life when the one in California failed. (Maybe I'll leave this one out).

'89: Waif Son moves out (flees?). Mom has a mental breakdown. Goes through 7 therapists until she finds one that she trusts. All female, naturally.

'99: Turkish gets a cash advance of $5k on his credit card to mail (because he had moved to Oregon like a waif to escape Cali' her because she was less than a week from foreclosure. I sold some of my company stock to pay off the debt,.since I didn't have liquidity to send her cash right away. As was typical, she waited until it was a crisis. I found out years later that she gt $10k from a friend. And who knows what she did with the subsequent $10k she got from my BFAM and his dad as a down payment on the property of her deceased H (in '03). And she was threatening to call a lawyer on him for keeoing her truck... .

'05: Turkish and friends kicked out a dysfunctional family from her property... The "daughter" with 5 kids was previously splt white. I think they were trying to get her property. Before the much older H died of a heart attack on her road, my mom was saying,."we're seeing if I can adopt D (29), and when they get married, I'll have a place of honor in front as her mother!" Uh, hello mom, you have a REAL son standing right in front of you whom you're telling this too. Years later, my ex did something like this, sharing her conversations with her girlfriends with me. Hello? I'm "in the room!" Sorry i waited until my late '30s to give you grandkids... .with a BPD-ish "wife," who also suffers from depression, but you don't know what you don't know.

Well,  left things out while going off on a tangent, like the crazy Indian "daughter" who slashed her bf on the head with a knife and spent 5 years in state prison. My mom loves dysfunctional people.

I suppose that's to much, though I've left a lot out. Maybe just: "collapsing Roof, the film crew from The Conjouring 3 is scouting the home to film the black mold in order to save on their SFX budget. Send a social worker to investigate.
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« Reply #20 on: April 03, 2016, 12:49:09 AM »

Wow Turkish!  I really appreciate your story. Your mom sounds like kind of like my grandfather. When my grandmother died he lost his mind and came apart. He ended up dying of dementia.

I really appreciate the  insight you have and the courage with which you speak. I especially appreciate hearing you talk about how your relationship developed with your mother over the years. As you know from my thread I can't even be in the same room with my mom without feeling trapped. For me, the more time goes on, the more it scares me to think what I endured or survived... .

Thank you for making this board such a helpful place.

I will endeavor to tell more of my story as I can. My mother also has a thing for dysfunctional people.
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« Reply #21 on: April 03, 2016, 01:06:02 PM »

Turkish, the highlights of your story just make me respect you more for taking your mom in the first place. It is amazing that you have done so well in life after such beginnings.

I don't think I could do what you have done. I would say don't worry about the future, notify whom you can and let go of it. You have done more than enough.

My uNBPD mom too split me black and then had all sorts of adopted daughters over the years. I could never figure out if she did it to drive me crazy, as in she then got to praise them to my face. No matter. It never lasted, eventually she would dysregulate and they would end up bad friends. Eventually I realized that I get to walk away from BPD. Mom doesn't. So I strive for compassion although I have never quite got there.

I hope for you that you spend plenty of time with little Turkish soothing  wounds and healing yourself. And I hope you can find some peace inside enabling you to let go of the past. You have a great life and fantastic kids. Make the most of what you got and let your mom find her own path. , Khib
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« Reply #22 on: April 04, 2016, 06:12:15 PM »

I hope today went well Turkish and you got to chat to someone about your Mom? I recently wrote 5x A4 pages for my mother's Pscy team of examples of her inappropriate,  bizarre and odd behaviour over the years. (Mental health history)   They asked for this, in writing.  I left nothing out. Cathartic actually and validating too for the confused child/teen I once was. Finally I was telling someone who would really get it and be able to help!
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« Reply #23 on: April 05, 2016, 12:36:03 AM »

Just before I left work, I got a call from a "Private Number." ,

"This is Turkish."

"Hi Turkish, this is your mom. I just wanted to let you know that I got a phone."

"Okaaay."

"Ok, have a good afternoon." *click*

I'm supposed to call her I guess?

No one called me from the clinic. She's not in overt danger. I checked the temps in the mountains. Though an April snow is not unprecedented, the cold wouldn't last long. If she got her phone turned back on, then she probably got the other utilities, too.

I dint think, but I know that if I turn her in that she will be evicted. There is niwhere to go in that small county. It will be a permanent psychotic break, and she'll blame me, so we are as good as dead to each other. She may have been kicked out ten years ago, 5 for sure. Probably, she can get by until next winter if no more psychotic scumbags go looking for her like the guy last year. Not to excuse that con, but I'm sure my mother triggered him with her "parents need to be harder on their kids" schtick.

I seriously don't know what to do here, that is, the right thing. I have an appointment with the T tomorrow to solicit more feedback.

If I lived an hour closer, it would be easier. I'm also still mad that due to her tantrum, I only got to see my kids one night last week. She knows I'm mad at her. The phone call s motivation... .who knows? I have trouble seeing what s right and wrong here... .not regarding her, but what I should do. Is this how it feels to be an enabler?
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« Reply #24 on: April 05, 2016, 02:08:19 PM »

dear Turkish, I am sorry that you are feeling so conflicted! Indeed this past week has been costly to you.  The phone call just made it more confusing, I guess. On the one hand it is good that she is reaching out, on the other she is not giving you any space to deal. Is it push-pull behaviour, you think?

In my work it is often necessary to listen to silences, that which is not said. And I did wonder if your mom at any point expressed appreciation for what you have done? A small thank you or something?

In the end my suss is that you are damned if you do and damned if you don't. Unfortunately that is where BPD places us. How I reach a sense of peace is by trying to determine what my needs are and once they are satisfied only then to think about what can be done for my FOO. Because nothing I have ever done has managed to make them want to change. They are still stuck in the same dysfunction they have been for as long as I have known them. All I can do is to change the way I relate to them, in such a way that I can live a reasonably fulfilling life.

What I pick up from your post is that it is important to you to feel you are doing the right thing. I hope you manage to figure out what that means to you soon ! So that you can have some peace.  , khib

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« Reply #25 on: April 07, 2016, 12:46:16 AM »

So my last update reflected Monday, I think. Board Time is Central Standard Time US.

Yesterday afternoon, she called me, Tuesday. She sounded very lucid and rational. I had earlier priority mailed back her license. It expired in 2014. I think that she may actually have had a valid license, but probably lost the new one.

She showed up at her friend's house. This friend, who told me that she was bi-polar and in therapy her whole life, told my mom, "how did you get here?" My mom said, "I drove, like I always did." Friend said, "you shouldn't be driving!" My mom left. This is the same friend my mom split black and accused of stealing from her hoard, and also accused me of conspiring with against my mom. My mom had told me, "once she learned that you owned a home in the Bay Area, she thinks you're rich, and he's after a rich man!" BP (there's more going on there) told me, "oh, so you're rich!" Whatever. Crusty and rude old woman.

My mom went to DMV, a 12 mile drive down the mountain. There confirmed that her license had been suspended due to multiple complaints. My mom drive home and parked. When she was in her 49s, her license was temporarily suspended due to unpaid tickets. She still drive for months until getting caught by expired tags. Let things get to a crisis point, and then fix them. She's always been like this.

So my mom, sounding very ration al in tone, wanted to come back. I told her that she could come back, but only if I had power of attorney, medically and financially, so I could control advocate and help guide her. "How do we do that?"

In my appointment with the T, he suggested that I get her to sign, even under duress because of her multiple mental issues in combination with signs of dementia. It would need to be notarized, I found out today from a friend at work.

I encouraged my mom to call her NP, that they could hook us up with resources. This was a 20 min conversation, where I didn't validate her splitting, but I couched it in, "this is the only option."

Since she didn't have ID, she has no electricity, nor water (more on the latter later). My job isn't in jeopardy, but it's not exactly secure. I can't just take another day off in the middle of the week to drive across California to deal with this. I have to go in early tomorrow to do a job that a tech doesn't want or is unwilling to do. My boss called me this afternoon, "I want you to do it." The guy is in his early 60s, needs to retire. He's short-timing it. Another colleague said, "we might feel that way when we get there, too." I also have the kids this weekend. Additionally, I eatched them for two hours tonight on my Ex's night because she had an emergency work meeting.

Close to 5pm yesterday, my mom's former neighbor called me, anxious and worried. My mom called her. I'll call the former neighbor "N."

Formerly, my mom, for over ten years, had alternately split N (and her husband, who while maybe not NPD, sounded like a narcissist) white/black/white. I'm thinking back to the supoosedly ex Navy SEAL who served in Vietnam who taught me back in college, "never volunteer information!" He was 15 years older than me at the time we were in the same Community College technical program, but I never forgot. I ended up working with him at the same company many years later. He got laid off and I never heard from him again. Alcoholism, drugs, affairs. He was a mess, and it caught up with him, and he threw away a well-paying career, but thsts another story.

N offered to have my mom stay with her, but balked when it came out that the Devil Dog wasn't house trained. N rents. I don't blame her.

N then told me her side of what she had done for my mom 3-7 years ago. Taking her to basketball games in the city. Paying her $10/hr to weed her garden. When N asked my mom why she had sat there for an hour not doing much, my mom split her black. The Turn. N also said that she used to buy my mom animal food, because my mom never had money. She had seven dogs... .who used to root the neighbor's trash, which my mom was angry at the neighbor about. I told N I would have shot the dogs with a pellet gun (okay, overstatement... .bb gun)... I liked the dogs, but that is unacceptable.

N also told me of a time she had paid my mom $250 and they went to Wal-Mart to get supplies. She got seperated from my mom, and my mom had spent all her money on yard staturary. N was shocked. I said that my mom had never been good with money. Ten years ago, my mom cut up her ATM card because she ran her account dry shopping QVC Jewelry Channel.

I told N that she had enabled my mom. I wasn't criticizing her, that I and others had dine it as well over the years. Then N said, confirming what my neighbor had said, that she was complaining about the kids. My fur ruffled.

N, who's in the generation between me and my mother, said that, "to your mom, children should be seen and not heard, that's how she thinks!" There is some validity to that, but she specifically complained about my son. Two night ago, my son awoke crying, having had a nightmare. He told me the next night and it still bothered him. He's emotional. He wasn't manipulating (I know when they do). I hugged him to sleep. My mom would never get any of this.

I tried to explain to N about Splittining. She argued the point. "But she loves those kids! She always used to talk about them so highly!" I explained that intimacy triggers her mental issues. She had an idealized portrait of her grandchildren, but upon spending time with them as real persons, she split them. I don't think N got it. "But she spoke so highly of them!" And me. We went a few rounds, but I don't think that N really got it.

I also told her that in '83/84, we had 50 dogs. That if CPS had caught up with us then due to the living conditions, that I would have been taken. A year later, I almost was. N said that she had heard these stories, but I put it in context. N also told me that I and BFAM had turned off her water. No. Her plumbing inside the house was shot. Me and my buddy bought suits and spent hours under the house in the dirt, dark, and spiders, bypassing her plumbing to route the water to the outside faucet. So I didn't know that she slammed us for rescuing her. That was two days away from my baby (now S6, then S2) and $200 .

So that's where it stands now. My brother is ready to drive up and check, and I really don't know if my mother has latched onto another family for help (she has one... .one in a long line of them). I'll call tomorroow morning again. N was adament about not reporting my mom, and I heard would take her in if not for that stupid non-house broken Chihuhua.

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disillusionedandsore
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« Reply #26 on: April 07, 2016, 09:09:33 PM »

Hi Turkish,  where I live if you have dementia you are not allowed to drive,  period. For obvious reasons. Do you think your mother would be agreeable to giving you power of attorney? It would be a start. I don't know any of your back story, is your Mom on any meds for dementia or mental health issues?  How is her short term memory? I understand the frustration with living so far away. All the more reason I would think to alert as many people as possible... .In my own mother's case,  I have neighbours monitoring,  a community Pschy nurse,  a Public health nurse,  G.P. and awaiting Alzeimhers Association input. She insists on living alone and refuses all help. My hands are tied until such time as her condition worsens or something happens. I cannot take charge of anything until such time as she is legally declared incompetent. She is not there yet. In the meantime I was told she has the right to be 'at risk'. I see more and more risk all the time. I feel for you because none of this is easy.
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Turkish
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« Reply #27 on: April 08, 2016, 12:13:37 AM »

disillusionedandsore,

It sounds like having someone declared legally incompetent may be harder than I thought. I hinted at this ten years ago, and my mom smirked and said, "I'd like to see you try." 

She was on anti-depressants in '89. She once told me that her T diagnosed her as as high functioning depressive, and she laughed. I did, too. She is not on any pysch meds now.

I called last night, straight to voice mail. I tried to focus on my work today, which I've been kind of phoning it in for the past two years since my Ex abandoned me (what's up with the three most significant women in my life abandoning me? Birth mother, Mother--,here and there, and the mother of my children?).

I called my mom. No answer, but not straight to voice mail. She called me back later this evening. She sounded more lucid than I've heard her in 3 years, at least in tone.

She said that she had to take a Safe Driver Course in Sacramento, in the Valley, very an hour's drive down the hill. She got her water turned back on, but no electricity. So she's up there with flashlights, in the filth... .like we lived in '83, but back then we had kerosene lanterns and Coleman lanterns. I saw Kerosene lanterns in her house, but I didn't suggest lighting them up. Fire hazard.

I suggested going back to DMV, a 12 mile drive down the hill, to get a photo ID. She didn't think of that, and thanked me for reminding her. It gets cold at night, but only into the low 40s F. I checked the weather for the next week and a half. Maybe my work buddy is right, that she can limp along until next winter, and then she'll come back. She sounded lucid and strong. O think that the docs misdiagnosed her recent issues as thyroid problems, though they did Dx her with anxiety and PTSD. No one gets it, by I'm just a lay person, additionaly with bias. I'll have to write the novel my friends have been encouraging me to write for 20 years to get it out there. Catharsis may not be going back into it, but continuing to live in denial.

She told me about going to a friend's house, a mile down. The scumbag (SB) who attacked her last summer showed up on his property while my mom was living with me. He was in jail for months. He told my mom that SB threatened to rape his wife and harm the kids. Friend lost it and went off on him, told him to get off his property and never return or he'd do things to him. My mom said that her friend spent 3 weeks in jail because SB called the cops. SB has a long rap sheet, and is an ex? Con. This story doesn't make sense.

This is California, not Appalacia, yet it is indeed this dysfunctional. I talked to her friend on the phone when she first came down here. He seemed genuine and nice. However, trust no one. Now I sound like a pwBPD.

So my mom is back to her hoard filthy mess with The Devil Dog for companionship. She's going to eek by until she fixes things, or likely gets caught. She sounded determined to continue, unlike two nights ago. I'm sick and done of worrying about it.

She asked how I was doing. Asked about the kids,.said to give them hugs and ask them to pray for her. We have and we will continue to do so. I guess this means she's split us all white again.

Last night, my BFAM, who's known me for 30 years, and he witnessed a lot of the dysfunction (and heard stories about what he didn't see) told me, "you've done what a Good Son could do."  I still have doubts about whai could do, and maybe how I could have acted differently while she lived with us for 4 months (here, I reminicse about my Ex, but I can't control anybody).

Forget the chest pains from the anxiety (worry?). I need to focus back on my job, my son and my daughter.
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« Reply #28 on: April 08, 2016, 12:16:31 AM »

Just before I left work, I got a call from a "Private Number." ,

"This is Turkish."

"Hi Turkish, this is your mom. I just wanted to let you know that I got a phone."

"Okaaay."

"Ok, have a good afternoon." *click*

I'm supposed to call her I guess?

No one called me from the clinic. She's not in overt danger. I checked the temps in the mountains. Though an April snow is not unprecedented, the cold wouldn't last long. If she got her phone turned back on, then she probably got the other utilities, too.

I dint think, but I know that if I turn her in that she will be evicted. There is niwhere to go in that small county. It will be a permanent psychotic break, and she'll blame me, so we are as good as dead to each other. She may have been kicked out ten years ago, 5 for sure. Probably, she can get by until next winter if no more psychotic scumbags go looking for her like the guy last year. Not to excuse that con, but I'm sure my mother triggered him with her "parents need to be harder on their kids" schtick.

I seriously don't know what to do here, that is, the right thing. I have an appointment with the T tomorrow to solicit more feedback.

If I lived an hour closer, it would be easier. I'm also still mad that due to her tantrum, I only got to see my kids one night last week. She knows I'm mad at her. The phone call s motivation... .who knows? I have trouble seeing what s right and wrong here... .not regarding her, but what I should do. Is this how it feels to be an enabler?

Turkish, she is lucky you still talk to her, in my opinion. She is fortunate you are not so mad at her that you want to not have any contact with her.
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« Reply #29 on: April 08, 2016, 12:22:31 AM »

Turkish your friend is right you are the good son. The last time I saw my mom on her terms or turf I couldn't stand it and had to leave. I felt trapped and didn't want to hear it.

I appreciate your story about dementia as I'm now having to look at how my grandmother's dementia affected her will and I was thinking about whether or not to write a post about that.

I'm actually interested in learning more about the connection between dementia and BPD.

My grandmother died of dementia and I suspect she had BPD.
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