The dark hole that is my dark hole

Okay, personal stuff:

My mother is very ill. I suspect the violent end to this episode to be quite soon. I have written about her before...being psysophrenic.

Last night my mother called around fifteen times before giving up starting at 1:00 AM. I turned off the ringer, as not to wake my son and man. I'm not going to listen to the messages as I erase them. I don't listen to them anymore.

I got a call from a distant second cousin this week. I may have met this man, I may not have...was too young, if I did, to recall him now.

However, he found me...he sought me out. Giving me this long lecture about taking care of my mom. The need to take care of family. My mother is very sick.

These calls have come more frequently from family strangers as my mother gets more sick and more unmanageable.

I tried to talk calmly to this man that I share a bloodline with but don't know.

Here's the scoop of it all.

For fucksake, I know my mother is sick. Who does not know this? This is supposed to be news to me?

This man lives in the same town as my mother does. He was not calling me to offer help with the situation, like a good family member would.

Per my family norm: He was calling to get me to deal with her. He acted like I didn't know what was going on. He told me that I should come get her. With what money, I asked? And in her current state, how was I to transport her safely?

I also explained to him that I had MS, which he says he knew about. So, I asked him, since stress causes flare ups of this disease; how was I to handle my violent mother once I got her here? Also, not to mention that I have a small child and he has no children...what to say about that exposure to my violent mother? Well, Oh, Nothing to Say to That? ...what a shocker.

I couldn't legally get my own mother's paperwork to start her on the waiting list for government housing. How did he suggest that I go about that? And where was I to keep her until her name came up on the over two year wait for housing? Nothing to say about that? Nothing?!?

Also, since my death would be immanent, who was to take on my mother, in the town and state that she knows noone, when I pass or become incompetent myself? Who was to do that? Well, Hadn't thought of that. That this town, where I live is huge in comparison to the village she lived in now, so if I did move her here the chances of her getting hurt, or lost, or shot by the cops: Sophia King, became tenfold.

http://www.austinchronicle.com/issues/dispatch/2002-06-21/pols_atlarge.html

What?!? Nothing to say about that?!?

He went on to say that there must be something. I could get custody of my mother. Yes, for a tune of about $20,000 I could do that. Again, where was she to go after me? And was I took take on the full responsibility of her actions, once having custody? She seriously hurts someone, I have to pay. Is that fair to my man and child?

What about Guardianship...Yes, there was that, but everytime I wanted to have her committed for her own safety, I would have to go to Court, with more than one family member as a witness, so if she's here, would he be willing to fly out everytime I needed a witness? Oh,ah, Oh...

What about a special home? Yes, She could be committed to a home. Well, Medicare does not cover this for her, and I do not have money for private facilities. But I would be willing to check into this again, if the rest of the family would share the expense. Oh,ah...it's not free from the Government? No, it's not. She can function when on her meds that she won't take. Therefore, it's Custody, Guardianship, or the Cops.

He asked me if I wanted to hear the phone messages that my mother had left for him where she was crying and babbling. No, I knew what this was. He repeatedly said how he and the other family members would love to help...but what could they do?

Translate: Would I just take on the complete job, and absolve them all from their own guilt or not doing a fucking thing.

Well, no, I'm not going to resolve other people's guilt for not helping. I am certainly not going to do that. People should feel bad and they should feel guilty. I'm not going out sitting in the crappile that I didn't ask for by myself...Nope. Either we're all family for real and we all help, or it's the guilt and shame and crappile for all of us. How about that plan?!?

I suggested that he call the cops on her, like I do, because they come out and get her and commit her, and put her back on her meds for a bit.

Oh, he could do that. How horrible...he couldn't do that. He really was just calling to let me know what was going on, and to get me to do something about it.

This strange, little, foreign man was calling me, to frustrate me. That's what this was. Per my families norm.

This man went on to suggest that my father help me. I do not speak to my father for many reasons, but this would be one of them. My father married, procreated with a nutjob, and then left the nutjob in my lap, in the lap of the only child he couldn't really give much of a shit about. Those promises to friends, family, and God meaning nothing to him.

Well, be proud Dad, I'm leaving, too. Just like you...how about that?!?

I am no longer angry about this fact, of not talking to my father, I just see it for what it is, and don't want to deal with my father anymore. He's just not a good guy. I have just parted ways for the best of everyone.

He cannot be around my child either.

This is the wrap up: Everyone is my family does not want to help me. I get calls and letters and bribes, etc. regarding the condition of my mother.

It's so funny to me that this rather large group of people that I don't even know, but who do know my mother and have had more life contact with her, are willing to dump the entire responsibility in my lap because I am her child. Who made this rule? I only lived with this woman for six years of my life...how much responsibility does that buy a person?

Okay, I am a bit angry about this. I'm just writing my frustration out. So, don't write back to console me on this point. It's a fairly often frustration...I just need to barf it out to save some sanity.

With my MS, I have made arrangements for my child not to have to deal with me and my shit when it becomes necessary. He will not go on with that kind of crazy guilt. So, there is that point for the future. I have stopped that for him. And that feels pretty cool.

And my son will not know my family. I have turned out to be a great parent in that aspect, too. Instead, I have surrounded him with beautiful people, who love him so much. That I did do. I have stopped the cycle here. And that's something...most people can't or won't or just don't do that. But, I have done it.

As for my own mother, and the other people like her?

Well, my close friend said it best when he pointed out that we live in a society that expects, commands, that psysophrenics to fit in the mold of the norm of society or face being useless, ignored, discarded people. As though my mother, and others like her have no value as humans. There were things written that has shown that in previous societies these people went on to be Shamans, prophets, etc. They were often hailed and exalted.

But, this will not be for my mother.

So, soon I will prepare to write the letters and make the calls to the people in my family to tell them to leave me alone about this. I have looked at the possibilities, exhausted the efforts, etc.

The movie Beautiful Mind did not portray this disease in it's full glory. You were seriously shortchanged at the Box Office on that one.

The stories that I have from my life, well, most people, unless they have a psysophrenic hanging around, well, they are quite fabulous unbelievable tales. And someday I will write those stories, sure,maybe,but not right now. Too much, right now.

I'm not willing to sacrifice myself or my child and man, for my mother. And, yes, there is much grief in that. And, yes, I will cry. And, yes, I will still call her because she loves me. In her own, sad, fucked up way, she was the better parent in that. And,yes, I will bury her, and go through her things when the whole crap thing comes full circle. Yes, I will do those things. I am committed to that, at least.

Watch the family come out to the funeral to see if she left money or things for them...they'll be there. Like the others that have passed before my mom.

I have spoken to others with the same plight. We're all in the same fucked up boat on this one.

And, this is my secret hole. This is my dark place.

Will this ever be repaired? No. This is just what it is in me.

I carry this.

I accept this.

I live with this.

And I am okay with that.

I accept this as part of my mom's life, my life, my heart.

What I am not okay with is that I can't just be alone in this spot.

Alone, without comments that I never asked for, from the unknowing, uncaring, unsupportive peanut gallery who will never get their feet dirty with the mud from the woman that is my mother.

I am not okay with that.

I am not okay with that.

I am not okay with that.

I do not forgive you people on this point.

I won't throw it in your face either.

But, I will not forgive you.

I am okay with living with that as well.

How about them apples?!?

And the phone sounds the dial tone as the peanut gallery hangs up....