Edit: I later found out that the person written about here ended up being a good friend and ally of the family, thank you for saving my mom’s life, and sorry for the suspicion and apprehension we treated you with.
I wish I didn’t have to write this, but I need to express the emotional weight of a situation that has added enormous stress during an already painful time.
There is a person who became involved in my mother’s care after she became gravely ill, as best I can recall. Earlier today, based on a call I had with my great aunt, it’s my understanding that during a recent hospital visit, this individual’s presence did not feel supportive or calming—especially given the hospital’s restrictions and the seriousness of my mother’s condition.
From what I’ve gathered through conversations with the hospital staff, I’m under the impression that this person’s behavior may have disrupted what my mother needs most right now: peace, comfort, and clear communication with her family. I find myself unsure why someone outside our immediate family would engage in actions that, to me, appear to create distance between my mother and her closest relatives, especially at a time when we need each other’s understanding and compassion.
In my personal view, this individual’s manner has felt manipulative, and interactions have not seemed constructive. I have perceived behaviors that, from my perspective, make it harder to trust their intentions. As a result, I feel that my mother has become more isolated from her children during a time when we should be united around her.
One specific event I can recount occurred during my last visit I may ever have with my mother: while this individual was on speakerphone, I heard them suggest that my mother ask me to leave. Experiencing that firsthand was painful and intensified my concerns about their influence.
My family’s only priority is my mother’s dignity, care, and comfort in her final days. I sincerely hope everyone involved will approach this situation with empathy and respect.
Although there’s much more I could say, this individual has threatened legal action, claiming my words might constitute “slander.” While this isn’t my main focus at such a distressing time, it has made me cautious about how I share my feelings. That added pressure weighs on me during a period already defined by loss and heartache.
To those who have offered their love and kindness, thank you. Your support provides a measure of comfort when it’s needed most.
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.
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.
