Living with the insane

My mother does not have mental issues in the clinical sense. She is not in need of medication (technically) nor is she a danger to herself or others (physically), but she IS CRAZY.

I wish I could say that perhaps her mind is failing her in her older age, and maybe it is starting to and we are missing the signs, but there isn't any indication of that.

I think that she is plain old CRAZY.

Age has this way of making folks really impatient for doing or going or getting or whatever, IMMEDIATELY. DO IT NOW, or suffer the wrath of the hairy eyeball, translation ugly stare of venom filled angst *and so far I have not seen an elderly person that does not do this* . The 'rent is no exception, in fact she might be the definition of impatience. I will take plenty of ownership on this one. I am lazy when it comes time to do certain things for her. Mostly because I am tired, work full time +, clean my house and still take care of most of the things in her house. So when she wants something done, she really wants it done NOW and we (the spouse and I) kind of suck at getting it done timely (per her) so we have the constant low level stress that goes with this lack of task execution.

I don't mean to say we let her live in filth or that we leave her laying on the floor waiting for someone to come rescue her from falling and being unable to get up. We just tend to run out of energy just managing our own lives. Having to be an untrained unprepared companion is not really on my bucket list. Apparently I was signed up for the job without my knowledge or consent. LET THAT BE A LESSON TO YOU ALL. Don't sign shit without reading it, and double check the fine print!

The weekend was chock full o' insane little moments begging Friday Night. As per my previous post, I got my nails did. My 'rent see this and pouts at me. Yes, I said POUTS. A 73 year old woman, POUTING AT ME. My response was "don't even." Because amazingly enough I can go do some shit without her hogtied to my ass for company, I went on my lunch hour, she doesn't pay my bills..... So she can tuck the lip away and stop trying to look pathetic, that would be a fail anyhow, she just looks constipated.

The second bit of crazy came when I said my husband and I were going to have a date night for our ANNIVERSARY.  You would have thought I said, "I plan to take a dump on your living room rug." at least based on the look of anger I got upon my declaration. Seriously? Last time I checked, we were the ones that said, "I do." and quite frankly the fact that he is still here while sharing a residence with you, YOU SHOULD BE PAYING FOR OUR NIGHT OUT, because a lesser man would have run screaming already.

The night was lovely. We actually had a date. I wore a skirt, which for me is tantamount to me getting into my wedding dress again. A girly girl I ain't. We had dinner, we laughed, we had nice conversation, we came home, and he took care of the dogs, and I went to sleep. I was up at 7 AM that morning and it was almost midnight. The next morning, this following conversation takes place between the 'rent and I.

Mom: "Where did you go?
Me: "Out to eat."
Mom: "Where?"
Me: "Birmingham."
Mom: "Did you come home and take care of the dogs and go back out?"
Me: "No."
Mom: "You mean you came home and went to bed without saying goodnight?"
Me: "Mom, this is not a conversation I want to have with you."

BLANK FACE. Really? I did come home and go to sleep without saying goodnight, I AM 43 YEARS OLD. IF I WANT TO COME IN ON MY ANNIVERSARY AND IGNORE THE WORLD, I AM GOING TO SAY I CAN DO THAT WITHOUT YOUR PERMISSION YOU CRAZY OLD BAT.........

So as you can tell, I am still trying to come to grips with dealing with crazy. One can only hope that I figure it out before I have to wear a bright orange jump suit. I don't wanna look like a clown. And seriously, the guilt would probably be worse than the expiation of angst that I would relieve.

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