Update on big changes with elderly Nada

June 17, 2011

I have been reading everybody's posts but not writing much of anything over the

past 5 or 6 months - there have been lots of changes, lots of chaos. I want to

affirm that this group has given me support without anybody even knowing what's

going on - simply by being here, telling your stories, and confirming that WE'RE

not the crazy ones - it has helped. So - many thanks to everybody for that.

Frequently, somebody posts about an elderly Nada or Fada, or the fear of what

will happen when the BPD parent gets old and frail, and the KO gets sucked back

in. Well, it happened. So here's a report from the other side of the crisis:

To update - after a little over a year of extremely low contact, following my

" discovery " of BPD, I got a call from my mother's landlord. Nada's hoarding was

out of control. She was living in filth (that had been the case for several

years - which was an excellent excuse not to visit her with my teen son). She

had been falling, calling 911 to get the paramedics to pick her up - she blamed

this on " low potassium " which I guess could be a contributing factor, but

basically she was falling because she was living in her recliner, tripping over

the accumulated crap on the floor, and eating peanut butter and canned frosting

instead of nutritious meals. She continued to drive even though she was phasing

in and out of dementia. Her bills weren't being paid. Her flying monkeys and

enablers were fed up. The landlord was ready to evict her. Her craziness had

finally caught up with her, and it was obvious to everybody, not just those who

knew what to look for. (Note - she'd been sent for week-long psychiatric

evaluation TWICE, but they just released her when they got her meds straightened

out - shoving the problem out the door and delaying the inevitable.)

So, after finally getting free of her guilt-mongering and manipulation, and

starting to re-create my reality and self-concept, the prison gates slammed shut

yet again. She was pretty much dumped in my lap - there is no other relative.

There is no money. She owes everybody in her small town, and had let important

social services lapse because she was too crazy to file the forms for renewal.

First things first - once she was released from the hospital, I had to find her

a place to live. The Medicaid nursing home in her town had no beds available,

and I made the mistake of mentioning BPD to another nursing home. Their

available bed mysteriously evaporated. (So, here's a clue - I shouldn't have

told them I suspect BPD, especially since it hasn't been diagnosed formally.

Geriatric health care workers know what it is, and they don't want to deal with

it any more than we do. Calling it " bipolar " or " depression " or " dementia " -

whatever's on Nada's paperwork - lets them know they have a mentally ill patient

on their hands, but I think they realize that BPD is a special sort of crazy.)

I finally found her a place in an assisted living facility, which is taking

every cent of her Social Security check. Since she owes insurance premiums, a

loan payment, and various hospital bills, guess who's getting the bills now?

I'm trying to get the insurance coverage straightened out and pay what bills I

can, but Nada kept getting on the phone and ordering additional services and

items that she " needed. " I finally had to instruct the staff to forbid her use

of the phone, unless she's calling me. Which she does. Frequently. Oh, joy...

and now I can't ignore the calls, because I'm her only lifeline for outside

contact, and I'm obliged to handle her financial affairs.

I spent every weekend for two months - and a whole lot of money - cleaning out

her apartment. It's amazing how much junk she had stuffed into a two-bedroom

apartment. We filled up the dumpster to the brim three times, and filled up

every cart at the local thrift store a couple of times - just with stuff that

was clearly trash, or stuff I didn't think I could sell at a yard sale. We

rented a Uhaul for the big stuff that was worth keeping, plus several trips with

a pickup truck and utility trailers. I'm not kidding - two solid months of

sorting, packing, throwing stuff out, hauling mountains of garbage bags to the

trash, hauling broken furniture to the dump - and I STILL have two rooms packed

solid with boxes and furniture. There is going to be one heck of a yard sale

this fall, once I get it all organized. We could probably furnish two or three

apartments with what remains, and I now have a lifetime supply of Tupperware and

hand towels. The proceeds will go to pay off her loan, and anything left over

will be budgeted to pay her continuing medical and living expenses. I'm being

super careful with this, because she is extremely critical of me and isn't above

challenging my supervision of her accounts.

Her tiny dog was living in all this chaos, never trained to potty outside, and

not really trained to use the puppy pads, either. Once I got the stuff out of

the apartment, cleaning the floors was a very special treat. The dog has been

living with us, learning to eat kibble, learning to go outside, and will be

ready for adoption soon. My mother is going to go ballistic when she finds out

I've given her dog away, but I already have two rescue dogs, and her little pet

deserves a home where they like tiny dogs. I've got that lined up and hope to

finalize the adoption next week. The dog has lived in a healthier and more

structured environment while she's been here, so she's a far more " adoptable "

animal than she was when I had to chase her down to get her out of the

apartment.

Meanwhile, my mother calls every few days with her " List of things I need

because you're keeping me here against my will. " She took a few months to

realize that her apartment was gone, her car (a dangerously un-maintained land

yacht) had been sold, and that she's pretty much stuck where she is. She

continues to tell me that she has every right to leave, and I agree. Then I

point out that nobody is going to come get her, and nobody is going to let her

move in with them. It's either this or a nursing home - or a mental

institution. I have no problem at all starting those proceedings if I have to,

and there's not one iota of guilt. She has no right to drag me into her mental

and emotional hell.

She is safe, housed, fed, and her meds are supervised. She cannot get out on

the road and cause a wreck. She's not passing out in the middle of the Walmart

parking lot. She's where she needs to be. The cost to me is financially

devastating, but as I get her insurance and social services squared away, I'm

hoping that her expenses will be met without further plundering of my meager

savings. Whether or not that comes to pass, I'd rather pay the money than have

her anywhere near my home and family. Yes, I need my paycheck for my own bills,

but paying to keep her in assisted living is worth every dime.

So - bottom line - the worst-case scenario came to pass, she got dumped in my

lap, and the fallout has been a 5-month (and continuing) nightmare. However,

I'm seeing some glimmers of light, and I am forever thankful that I haven't had

to deal with all this while lost in a FOG. That would have made it impossible -

I don't think I would have survived. As it is, it's just money. It's just

furniture. It's just my crazy Nada. It's all just - chores to do, lists to

make, bills to pay. It doesn't involve my self-worth, or my sanity, or my

long-term future. When Nada starts her litany of guilt and blame and criticism

(which she does, without fail) - I am almost completely immune. And for that I

am SO grateful to the entire WTO community and the authors of the canon of BPD

literature.

Oh - an important P.S. - as I've worked with the health care professionals and

talked with her old friends and enablers, not one of them has said, " but she's

your muth-er " - they all recognize that she is insane, and are either very glad

to be rid of her or very supportive because they recognize how challenging it is

to deal with her.

June 17, 2011

Wow, , thank you for sharing that update. In my book, you are a genuine

saint. You are dealing with your nada's needs even though it is a financial

hardship for you, and you are dealing with her emotional abusiveness and yet not

letting it get to you. You are remarkable, girl! You have been able to detach

sufficiently so that your nada's complaining and threats don't affect you

personally, or at least, her abusiveness doesn't destroy your self esteem and

mental equilibrium.

I believe that what you are going through is in the not-too-distant future for

my Sister and me, RE our nada. Sister has already scoped out several assisted

living facilities that are in our nada's area so nada won't be far from her

friends, her church, her favorite shopping areas, and our relatives, when it

gets to the point where our nada can't care for herself well enough to stay in

the apartment she rents now.

(As an aside, I am astonished at how much stuff your nada was able to cram into

one two-bedroom apartment. That is just unreal! My nada hoards too but due to

her obsessive-compulsive pd traits its all neatly organized and coordinated.)

I'm sure it does mean a lot to you that your relatives and nada's flying monkeys

are now aware of just how dysfunctional your nada is and are not attempting to

burden you with misplaced guilt. That is a small blessing, isn't it.

Your self-sacrificing determination to help your nada in spite of her life-long

abusiveness toward you makes you a pure-D saint in my opinion, and very

inspiring to me. I hope I will find that courage and determination too when the

time comes.

-Annie

>

> I have been reading everybody's posts but not writing much of anything over

the past 5 or 6 months - there have been lots of changes, lots of chaos. I want

to affirm that this group has given me support without anybody even knowing

what's going on - simply by being here, telling your stories, and confirming

that WE'RE not the crazy ones - it has helped. So - many thanks to everybody

for that.

>

> Frequently, somebody posts about an elderly Nada or Fada, or the fear of what

will happen when the BPD parent gets old and frail, and the KO gets sucked back

in. Well, it happened. So here's a report from the other side of the crisis:

>

> To update - after a little over a year of extremely low contact, following my