Spilled Guts Zone - Please Watch Your Step

Yesterday was my day to visit my Mom. I've written before that she has late stage Alzheimers Disease. She still lives at home with my Dad and their caretaker. She doesn't remember my name anymore but seems to remember who I am as she always links my son's name to seeing me. Every Thursday I drive 3 hours round trip to see her, sit with her for another 2 1/2 - 3 hours and try to make her laugh but mostly answer the same question 50 times or try to talk her out of her delusions. I'm usually alone with her during this time as the caretaker runs some errands and my father always has something more pressing to do than visit with me.

Yesterday was especially hard as my estranged verbally-abusive sister was taking care of Mom and Dad as the caretaker was on her monthly time-off. How she is able to do something as wonderful as taking care of them and yet treat me like a piece of garbage is one of the great mysteries of my life. But I have made every attempt to reconcile and yet only get hit harder the next time. The decision for me cut things off was easy after she flew into a rage at me one Thanksgiving, calling me a f-ing a-hole and various other vulgarities in front of my husband, then 9 year old son, and sick mother. In turn, my father has always said it takes two to tango and asked me what MY problem is - why don't I invite her to my home, why don't I call her anymore - even after witnessing years of this behavior. It is crushing to me that he holds me in such low regard that he somehow feels I either am deserving of this treatment or not justified in my response to it. He has always been an intimidating figure and the apple seems to have fallen not far from the tree. Either way, it speaks volumes to me about my status in the family. It took a long time for me to recognize the fault wasn't with me - it was with them. So it comes as no surprise that I have the appalling lack of self-esteem or self-worth that I do now given the environment I've had to deal with. Learning to be my own best supporter as adult has not come easily to me but I work at it every day and I am clearly aware that some people had it much worse growing up than I did. But this is how I got to be who I am.


My mother and I were exceptionally close my whole life and as she fades, the family, such as it is, is disintegrating into little bits and I know my siblings and I will probably go our separate ways. I never thought things would turn out this way but such is life. It has rocked my foundation and I am still coming to terms with not having that connection back to my childhood anymore. So on Thursdays I am always absolutely depleted by the time I get home and have always given myself a pass on working out. Yesterday, however, was different. In spite of how sad and exhausted I was, I decided to take Scooby for a walk late in the day and it felt great. It wasn't just the joy of physical movement that lifted my spirits but by breaking my habit of being pulled down by my family's sad situation, I made the decision to start defining myself on my own terms and not my father's or sister's or anyone else's. I put a little joy back into my life instead of mourning the loss of things I have no control over. And if I can learn to do more of this every day - looking forward instead of back - I can have a better life than the one I've been living up to now.