Life Sucks

My mother has lived with me for nearly 9 years. Today I told her she needs to find somewhere else to live. It was not a pretty scene.

She's a diabetic and has other ailments. She does not take care of herself. Never has. She eats horrible foods and doesn't watch her sugar levels, etc.

This morning, she had a doctor's appointment. So did I. I cancelled my appointment so I could take her to hers. Since hers wasn't until 10 am, I thought we'd go to Panera Bread for breakfast. Once I finished getting dressed, I went out to get her and noticed a cereal box on the counter. I asked if she'd already eaten, she said yes. I said, "OK, I wanted to stop at Panera. You can watch me eat." I figured she'd get a cup of coffee and a muffin or a bagel. NO. While I'm ordering my spinach and bacon souffle' she's pacing back and forth in front of the display.

Our conversation went like this.

Me: "What are you doing?"

Mom: "Getting a Danish."

Me: "Didn't you already eat?"

Mom: "Yes. I wanna get a Danish."

Me: "But...you already ate."

Mom: "Don't worry about it."

I got my souffle' (and an orange scone for lunch) and sat down. I was irritated at this point. I didn't like her flippant attitude when I pointed out that she had already eaten. (OK, let's get this straight right now. She ate a soup-bowl full of Frosted Flakes. The bowl holds about 3 "servings" as stated on the box. The cardboard box the cereal came in had more of a nutritional value than the "breakfast" did.) She came and sat across from me. She had a small cup of coffee and a Danish that covered 1/2 the plate. It was cherry-cheese and had lots of swirled icing on it. She commented about how it looked.

I sat there with my fork halfway to my mouth and just lost it. I told her I couldn't do this any more.

She said, "What?"

I said, "I cannot sit here and watch you kill yourself anymore. You need to find somewhere else to live. You already ate this morning and look at the size of that thing. You don't eat properly, you take insulin and it doesn't work correctly."

She pushed the plate away and said she'd stop eating "bad" stuff.
I said, "It's too late. I want you out of my house. I cannot do this any more."

"Fine, I'll leave tomorrow."

Long story short. No, she's not leaving tomorrow. She has no where to go. She knows that and I know that. However, she IS leaving. I cannot do this any more. I cannot keep worrying about her health when she's not worrying about it. It is making ME sick. She does not do what the doctors tell her to do. She does not even pretend to remotely attempt to do what they tell her to do. She complains her back hurts. She complains she's always vomiting or has diarrhea or doesn't feel well. Yeah? Well, here's a news flash for you. If you eat junk all day and do nothing but lie around sleeping or sitting there watching TV and get no exercise, you're going to get sick.

My sister is no help. She's got problems of her own. I called her today to tell her what happened (i.e. MY side of the story) and her response was, "She sounds depressed." Well thank you Dr. Stupendous! I hope you don't charge me $200 for THAT consultation. No sh*t Sherlock. Ya think? (Kudos to me for not hanging up on her or telling her what I really thought.)

I hate talking to sister dear, because every time I call to discuss mom, I end up hearing all about sis's problems and then I just let my issues drop. I guess that means I'm a coward; I don't know. I just don't feel like hearing her swearing and yelling all of the time. So, instead, I burden my friends with my problems. As if they don't have their own problems, right? I'm surprised anyone ever bothers to call me. I feel like a broken record; I'm on the same line over and over again and someone needs to come over and tap the stereo to make the needle move again.

I think today the stereo got tapped. The needle is definitely moving again. I've got to call my friend Lara to see if she'll come over and look at my house. My house is falling down around me and I need a TON of work to fix it. I want to find out exactly what I need to do to it to sell it. I used to actually like doing stuff around the house. I installed all new ceiling fans and new faucets and things like that. Now, something as simple as cleaning is a burden. (As Lara will see when she comes over. I'll bet cleaning alone will increase the value by about $1,500.00!)

I don't know. It is July 21. If I can find an apartment for my mother and get her moved out and settled by September 1 (sooner, I hope), then maybe I'll be able to start doing things to the house that need doing. I've always heard Spring time is the best time to sell a house. Then again, with the recession and the fact that I live on the "wrong side of the mountain," I have no idea if it will ever sell.

But, on the up side, I'll have a clean, repaired house to myself. If I want to have friends over, I can without feeling uncomfortable about it. Who knows, maybe I'll just "borrow" one of those for sale signs for a few months, blame the no-sale on the recession and live happily ever after in my own "real" world. Goodness knows I've been trying to live in a fantasy world and it's not working. Maybe someday my hoped-for reality will knock on the door. I'm sure, with my luck, though, I'll be at the grocery store.