Anxiety On Wheels

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  • A phone call, then back down the rabbit hole

    I started inpatient yesterday, not that I’m particularly actively suicidal or have suicidal ideation, just that I’ve made so much progress with my agoraphobia and don’t want to wake up trapped in my home again, seemingly unable to walk out into the front lawn to collect my mail as I was during the pandemic.

    I need the extra support right now due to the extreme stress myself, and the family is under and I’m so incredibly emotionally drained.

    It’s been a decent enough day. I’m happy to share that we submitted an application for an apartment in Colorado with a tentative move date of February. It’ll be a big change moving out of Indiana and moving across the country, but we will be moving close to someone we love and a breath of fresh air is sorely needed on all fronts.

    I almost don’t want to write about this evening’s events as it feels like a bad dream, but mom and I talked; we had a nice enough conversation. I sung Peter Cottontail and Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer to her, she sang along. She had me write some really strange letter, which I’ll include below:

    She dictated the letter to me and what to say. Functionally, it doesn’t mean anything, no one has ever invoked POA or Medical Directive in this situation and no one has ever prevented her from coming home, obviously.

    What is concerning that apparently her estate attorney dropped her due to ethical concerns. I’m not sure exactly what transpired there, and honestly, I’d rather not know.

    And what is further concerning is whatever insane rant mom started texting me about being in her emails right after her phone call, after telling me how everything was “forgiven and okay now”?

    Yeah, I don’t know.

    For whatever reason it reminds me of this, lol

    https://archive.org/details/ytp-it-s-all-right-here-at-your-fingertits

    I was instructed to access Mike’s emails to collect information soon after his death by mom, such as Amerigas for their home propane, AT&T for their wireless bill, information about Mike’s Mom for his sister so she is taken care of. I’m sorry, but I’m really not interested in whatever he had in his email inbox, although I’m sure there’s some cringeworthy boomer humor in there somewhere.

    No, what actually happened is that her attorney added her to an existing email thread I had with him discussing what needed to occur with probate and my previous efforts trying to stay on top of legal obligations as Mike’s executor is unable to, or unwilling to execute his will. Not that anyone would benefit from that other than mom as she inherits all of his assets. Somehow, my mother considered that redirecting her emails or being in her emails?

    Whatever the causality, she did say I was no longer her son and to never contact her again, which hurt, but this is just how things go with mom these days.

    EDIT LMAO IT GETS SO MUCH WORSE TODAY

    Jade called me this morning and mom is at the police station trying to press charges against her for giving her the “wrong meds” paramedics were also apparently out there last night and confirmed they had the correct meds. What did I write yesterday about mom trying to kill herself by only taking Vitamin C? I… can’t make this up.

    I suppose the difference today is that I’ve just come to expect it and I can put my renewed tools such as the inpatient session last night, “Make the best out of a bad situation” to work.

    I’ve also been diving back into Tao philosophy lately, two of my current faves

    But it’s nice knowing there’s light at the end of the tunnel. Work is very busy, but I seem to be doing well (somehow, like damn), we are redecorating our home to have a safe, comfortable place to be in, and we have the move to look forward to, reset our lives in some way.

    Imagine waking up to this view every morning, it doesn’t seem real

  • Mom back in hospital & state police involved now

    Got a frantic phone call this morning, apparently mom was at the police department going on about how her family is poisoning her as she doesn’t want to take her antibiotics and kidney medication. To be clear, not that anyone has been forcing her or otherwise doing anything other than filling her pill organizer with the exacting medication and dosages from the list the hospital provided.

    She was in the ICU a few times by now with sepsis due to this exact thing, and it’s not the first time the police have been called out to the house by any means.

    The paramedics were apparently at the house last night and verified the correct dosages and medications.

    The situation has devolved into such a poor state that anyone who tries to caretake for mom could very well end up on the receiving end of a false police report, which makes it unwise to be in contact with her for fear of their own legal well being.

    I’m personally concerned that I may be targeted due to my refusal to move home and mom’s insane rants about how terrible of a person I am for not doing so. It’s not that I don’t want to be there, I want to help mom.

    I’m just not sure what else I could possibly communicate on this blog, or otherwise that doing so is not safe. Not for the abuse and name calling she dishes out, for the history of false police reports and insane rants about the government monitoring her, and the flying monkeys of people mom enlists who are financially motivated as she is loud about having money and actively demonizes her husband, children in her life.

    There are genuinely good people out there reaching out, trying to help, thank you. It’s an impossible situation and my deepest apologies for not being as controlled and stoic about the situation in the pages of my blog as I could have been. Mike committed suicide, mom had her first melt down at my house and after several hours of insane rambling, the police carried her kicking and screaming out of my front door. Mom becomes very paranoid about people “keeping her in the hospital” and the insane rants and suspicion is shared widely.

    If you think this specific situation is insane, it’s been what Mike, Jade and the family have been dealing with semi-privately for months now, and why Mike committed suicide.

    It’s been a nightmare.

    This is the.. 10th time I believe she’s been in the hospital. I’m questioning to myself, how does it get worse from here, and, how many days until she’s back home again doing the same thing?

    Edit: going through previous posts to review, look at what I found from August?

    Edit: and yet another one

    annnddd another from July.

    Just to be clear, I later learned that Mike indeed did the best he possibly could and he did try to keep her in the hospital past a certain point, the issue is that the hospital can’t, and it makes sense, even if it’s not ideal.

    If someone is conscious and able to tell what day it is, the hospital deems them of sound mind, even if they warn the patient and family members they will die if released and return home to do the same things again. The only time a POA or Medical Directive can take effect is that if the patient is on a ventilator or otherwise completely incapacitated.

    There is something called emergency guardianship, and I think it’s time to approach that just to ensure that she goes to rehab or a nursing home for a week or two to get stable, instead of in and out of the ICU every week, or like Dr. Mohammad said, she may not make it until Christmas

    Edit:

    I’ve had to block her.

  • Setting the record straight

    Kasey and I went over; it was time for us to collect our things out of the garage from the last time we stayed there. I don’t really know where to start or how to move forward, and I know I’m feeling very emotional right now. So, warning, dear reader—shield your children’s eyes.

    No one wants to get a call from their mother’s doctor saying she’ll be gone in a few weeks if she keeps doing the same things over and over. She’s been hospitalized nine times now, many of which were completely preventable. And not preventable like “don’t smoke or you’ll get cancer,” but deliberate, very unwise, specific things like not taking antibiotics when she has sepsis.

    Or not regulating sodium intake properly, an issue since September, which directly impacts memory and cognition. Or starving herself and consuming so much liquid that her kidneys now only function at about 17%, pushing her close to kidney failure.

    Mike is gone, in large part because of her. Yes, he had his own issues—back pain, depression—but she pushed him over the edge. Imagine your wife retiring and making travel plans, only for everything to turn upside down: getting screamed at, having things thrown at you, the police called, threats of divorce, and more for months on end. All while trying to ensure she takes her medication so she doesn’t die, cleaning her wound so it doesn’t get infected, or trying to get her into rehab because the doctors say she’s going to die if she keeps doing the same harmful things over and over again. Mike tried so hard to keep her alive, yet she made him out to be some kind of monster. I honestly understand why he felt so hopeless. I wish he had just packed up and gone to California like he said he would, anything other than suicide.

    You didn’t deserve any of this, Mike.

    And I’m sorry that our deeply flawed medical system didn’t allow you to properly care for her. Not your fault.

    Like I said the first time Kasey and I left, I’m not open to being called names, screamed at in front of everyone, or made out to be a terrible person because I don’t jeopardize my life, quit my job, and endure abuse. Especially when I’m expected to just go along with her belief that antibiotics are poison, that the government is spying on her through Bluetooth, and all the rest of it. I don’t care if it’s my mom, and I guess I don’t care if she’s dying—no one gets a free pass to openly abuse others, especially when they’re trying to help.

    And what’s the point, anyway, when any help one might give is literally helping her harm herself? Tonight’s disagreement started because I refused to hand her the pill bottles after she claimed “Jade messed up her meds” and went off on some unrelated rant about not having a POA. I refused to hand them over because I’m not going to assist her in taking just “Vitamin C” as ordered by “cancer doctor,” or indulge the idea that “sodium causes high blood pressure” in this context. It’s all nonsense.

    I’m stammering here because my next instinct is to defend myself—to say that I do care, I’m scared, and I don’t want my mom to die. I even woke up with night terrors, dreaming she was dead. But this situation has been so uniquely awful, so extreme, that frustration and anger drown out everything else.

    Kasey and I took our RV over there for a single night in August. We lasted one night. I work remotely, a 9-to-5, and my job was already unstable due to layoffs. I stayed up until 1 a.m. trying to convince her to take her antibiotic. It took hours of dealing with rambling nonsense. I finally got to bed around 2 or 3 a.m. Exhausted at work the next day, I got woken up at 8 a.m. and brought into the house, Kasey too, to be screamed at that we weren’t doing enough. Both Mom and Mike yelling, going on and on. We lasted one night.

    Kasey rightfully walked out, and I was right behind her. Kasey isn’t even part of this, and no one gets to scream at my partner, period. I lost that job soon after.

    But it just goes on and on. I don’t have the energy to detail every awful and abusive thing. Mom has this narrative that everyone treats her like a “child,” and she demonizes anyone who doesn’t want to help her destroy herself. Mike is gone because he wouldn’t just pretend everything was fine while she refused to help herself. My sister walked in from collecting her father’s ashes and was berated for not magically having Mom’s breakfast ready before work. It’s all just beyond understanding—awful, sad, and infuriating.

    And I’m done. I said my goodbyes, and this is what I’m forced to remember her as: a harmful, confused person who likely doesn’t even know what’s going on. Meanwhile, others circle around, willing to agree with her so they can get what they want, or a handout as they need the money.

    We’ve got probate, Mike’s estate, business matters, in-home aide options that I spent days researching. But I’m a liar, I’m useless, and she already wrote me off after I left the first time. Fine. Good luck, then. Thanks for calling the attorney to tell him not to talk to me, because I’m apparently such an awful person.

    Maybe I need to be the “bastard son,” because I’d much rather deal with that than live knowing I helped my mother end her own life.

  • Loss.

  • Tired, but alive

    So, Mike is mom’s husband. Jade found him on the swing outside (his daughter). To say it’s been a fucked up weekend would be an understatement. Mom is still in the hospital due to her sepsis and physical therapy as she’s a fall risk.

    I’m heading over with the RV to support Jade and fam tomorrow. We had been planning on going full-time again and this time actually, for real traveling. Lease is up in January, might as well.

    Funeral is weekend after next, not sure if I’ll go. Not anything to do with Mike, I just have unsolved trauma around funerals from long ago.

    Yeah, I’ve been sad. Mike and I had a complicated relationship but he was good for mom. I’m not sure what else to say, I’ve never had anyone I personally know commit suicide before.

    I thought about it, and it’s why I went to inpatient. It was the hate driven kind though, like here’s the consequences of your actions and what you are doing to me, can you finally HEAR me now that I’m dead? No, but even though I’m 99% over all of that I still have a sneaking suspicion that other(s) may not be, and that’s fine. Not in like a spiteful kind of way, but kind of like, yeah – obviously this is what happens when you intentionally try to hurt someone.

    For whatever reason I’ve been thinking that day at the canal with Amanda and Luke lately, just little flashes of processing of the subconscious. I was a toy and it was funny to see me get jealous over the dog, it was intentional. I have no idea why I put up with even a quarter of the bullshit honestly, I’ve burned far too many bridges since for much less.

    But hey, I was in that transition from the lifelong trauma based state of just stuffing emotions under the rug since like, forever, and whatever happened to just have to start feeling my feelings, well – there’s no way of going back from that. Not that I was a unfeeling person before, more like, I’m much less scared to feel my feelings and be much more of myself.

    Honestly, I don’t regret the experience overall. I’m a much more feeling, vulnerable person now and I’ve become so much stronger within my queerness and have (even if sometimes heavy handed) boundaries so much more well figured out now that even those without them scream narcissist when I’m just kinda done and wish to go no contact.

    Happily a narcissist over being taken advantage of, the evolution of the people pleaser.

    One thing about handling high grade, nuclear grade trauma, like a suicide, is other issues just kinda melt away. Like I know we may be fucked due to the election and politics bullshit, but I kinda have bigger issues here right now. Not that it’s healthy in any way, but a fact so might as well roll with it.

    But yeah. We’ll move the RV tomorrow and use this breakpoint as a transition to start downsizing and getting the homestead ready to vacate. Is third time going to be the charm for actually hitting the road? Let’s fucking go.

  • Mike killed himself this morning.

    I don’t really know what to say other than what the fuck.

    Right on his swing, shot himself in the head.

    I don’t want to blog further right now.

  • I never wanted to be proven the asshole so badly before

    You mean that I was right THREE FUCKING TIMES NOW??! I wanted to be proven wrong, I wanted to second-guess myself and be proved to be the asshole in this situation but damn man.

    Of course, now she has a fever and she is really high stroke risk so if she strokes out and dies or it causes further damage, I’m the asshole still, right?

    I just can’t even.

    This hit hard

  • No contact

    There will be much I untangle and write about in the coming weeks, but I genuinely feel as if I did the best I could to help my mom. They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

    The last 48 hours have been a nightmare. I got a call Thursday night at around 1:38 am from Jade, who was crying. In the background, I heard Mike’s yelling, glass breaking, and things being thrown. The abuse had escalated yet again.

    Mom had already called the police, and I followed up with a call of my own to ensure they responded. Mike packed his stuff and fled the state. On one hand, he faced immense pressure, but on the other, it’s unacceptable to abuse my mother and sister and then abandon mom when she was in real danger due to her current mental and physical state.

    Mike knew that mom wasn’t taking her meds at IU Indy after her surgery, and they both lied to get her released. This decision is baffling, especially after we had to have mom arrested and taken to the hospital the previous Tuesday before her emergency cancer surgery. Refusing antibiotics post-surgery is dangerous and could have severe consequences.

    Tuesday night, I stayed up coordinating help for mom. She was threatening Jade and believed she was being poisoned by her antibiotics. On the advice of a close family friend, I called the local crisis unit. It became a chaotic scene with 20-30 people involved. Mom was deemed mentally unfit by EMTs but still refused care. She had been calling everyone in her address book, reaching out as far as California for help.

    Mike was unreachable during all this, and they never got the Power of Attorney notarized, which added to the complications. A family friend finally convinced mom to go to the ER, and after many hours, she was there. I kept several family friends updated while managing my work responsibilities.

    The kicker is that Mike got her released from the hospital again, leading us back to a dangerous situation. I fear that someone might end up seriously harmed or in jail.

    If Mike hadn’t returned, I would have pursued an emergency guardianship order, ensuring mom got the necessary care. But now, Mike is portraying me as the antagonist, despite my efforts to help. It’s infuriating to be painted as the bad guy when I’ve been the only one actually helping.

    I’ve had my moments of frustration, and while I’ve said things I regret, my primary focus has always been on getting mom the help she needs. I’ve made the difficult decision to go no contact for my own mental health and well-being.

    I know my mom isn’t in her right mind, and the hurtful things she’s said to me will take time to heal. But I can’t continue to be part of this chaotic and harmful situation. For my own sanity, I need to step back.

    To Mike, it’s crucial to understand the impact of your actions. It’s not right to berate and attack those who are trying to help. Genuine support means working together to ensure mom’s well-being, not creating more chaos and conflict. Your actions have not only hindered mom’s recovery but have also caused unnecessary stress and harm to those around her.

    We all need to be there for mom in a way that truly supports her recovery and well-being. This means making difficult decisions, prioritizing her health, and not letting personal conflicts get in the way. It’s about coming together as a family, despite our differences, to do what’s best for her.

    In conclusion, while I wish things were different, I can’t continue to be part of this situation. I need to prioritize my mental health and safety.

  • It’s all went off the rails again

    Got a call at 1am, Mike was breaking and throwing shit, cussing and screaming at mom. Police were called, Mike left state and abandoned her. Little sister was left at home with her while mom kept telling her to leave and she’ll have her removed.

    It’s been a challenging 24 hours,

    After some 20-30 people were at the house, police, EMT, crisis unit, a family friend mom called that she had not spoken to in two years showed up and convinced her to go to the ER. Thank you for that, sir.

    Unfortunately, Mike came back and is in the hospital with her now. And I say unfortunately because I can’t file for emergency guardianship with her husband present.

    I swear to fucking god if he releases her tomorrow..

    Regardless come Monday I have to go no contact again. We either figure out how she gets into an assisted living facility or I’m not going to be in the picture for my own safety and sanity. Mom has absolutely zero reason to be at home, not when she’s flipping out about being “poisoned” when we are trying to get her to take her antibiotics (you know, the drugs that if you don’t take you can die after a major surgery) and her calling the police on us.

    I’ve had to block her again as she’s been very hurtful, not that I’m taking it to heart, but she thinks I’m crazy and out to get her. Just like Grandma back when she was alive and had shingles that one time.

    We’ll see if she gets abandoned again, not that I blame her husband as I can’t imagine what he’s going through, but she should had never been released in the first place as it was known she wasn’t taking her meds. Well, and honestly, his behavior was unacceptable also, but fuck, I had to call the police to have her removed when all this started at my place two weeks ago. It’s just an impossible situation.

    If I’m ever like this when I’m older, just shoot me.

  • My mother is fucking nuts

    The past week has been an absolute rollercoaster. My mom just got out of the hospital, and it’s like she brought a piece of chaos home with her. She’s been awake for days on end, talking non-stop, posting bizarre stuff on social media, and calling everyone at all hours. It’s been a nightmare to manage.

    I’ve been trying to help, but it’s like trying to reason with a tornado. Yesterday, I spent hours trying to convince her to take her antibiotics. She’s on a strict regimen, but she’s acting like I’m trying to slip her poison. At this rate, I’m worried she’ll end up back in the hospital with an infection. She’s just not taking her meds and lied to get out of the hospital as she spit them out. I’m pissed her husband enabled her, she needed to stay in the hospital if such was the case and he knew she didn’t take them.

    Last night, everything came to a head. After a long day at work and playing caretaker, I got pulled into a “family discussion” just as I was slipping off to sleep, at 10pm, and Kasey was winding down. Mom complained we weren’t doing enough, my sister got cussed at when she cleaned up mom’s shit earlier that day from her and the armchair and spent the whole day with her. I could’ve handled it from mom, but then her husband lost it, yelling and cussing us out, which I won’t tolerate.

    It’s also not practical for me to work a full-time job and be expected to be available 24/7 to the whims of my mother’s psychosis. We just arrived Sunday but by Monday I was already absolutely exhausted, emotionally and otherwise. I was up later than I liked due to helping her with meds, then had early morning Monday meetings, with several others following.

    The “family discussion” was unhinged and didn’t make much sense, with mom being insane and the yelling. The gist of it is that mom feels like no one is helping her. She’s not sleeping and hasn’t for a week, is in a constant crisis, insane, anxious, and doesn’t make much sense.

    There is no definition or ability of helping that involves someone reaching inside of her and taking away the discomfort, which is the inherit expectation. Taking care of physical health needs is important, and necessary. Enabling the high energy insanity and being present for the exhausting mental babble is not.

    What was helpful, and one of the quietest states I’ve seen her in since this started (and what I mean but not enabling her) was laying on the couch reading, and repeating gently, but firmly is that I’m tired and just reading. Behavioral patterning in a way (monkey see, monkey do). What isn’t helpful is those around her squawking back and reflecting the undesired behavior, which is hard not to do.

    But anyway, Kasey got cussed and yelled at and she’s not involved with my mother or the situation in the slightest, yet, has been helpful, which was the last straw. Screaming and cussing, we can help or get the fuck out, lol. My partner and I were out of there in a flash. We’re not about to sit there and take that kind of treatment, family crisis or not.

    I’m exhausted, angry, and completely drained. I understand Mom’s not well, and everyone’s stressed, but enabling the flip out and abusive, insane behavior is a boundary that I have no tolerance for. So, I’ve made the decision to block both Mom and her husband for two weeks. I told them to get professional help – like in-home care or return to the hospital – because the family just can’t do it.

    Part of me feels guilty and I’ve been thinking about what if that was me, but I can’t help anyone if I’m falling apart myself.

    I’m still unsure if I’m being too harsh. Two weeks of no contact feels extreme, but so does their behavior. I’ve always had low tolerance for toxic situations, but when it’s your own mother, it gets complicated.

    The trickiest part is that I can relate to some of her anxiety on a smaller scale. Mine looks different and while I certainly feel frantic sometimes, mine comes out more of crying and feeling scared, not blowing up and snapping at other people – or general psychosis as mother has not been sane since all of this started.

    Something happened to her mentally and something is gravely wrong. It’s the hardest part about it and my biggest fear is that she will never come back.

    For now, I’m focusing on maintaining my sanity. Getting some sleep, trying to work, and processing this whirlwind of emotions. It’s a wild situation.

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We may modify these Terms at any time by posting an updated version with a new “Last Updated” date. Continued attempts to access after changes constitute acceptance.