Mom went to the hospital last night

[dollyvee]

But, the freedom! And resentment drops away. Of course there is grief for what you didn't actually have. But eventually you find out what you really do have, and sometimes it's not nothing, it's just not the something you thought it was.

Yes, Gently it's a great way to look at it and the conclusion that I am slowly coming to too.

Sending you support 
 

[Gently]

I thought I was done with this thread, but my M went into the hospital last night with a-fib (my brother texted to tell me), and I am managing the EF from that still today.

Something about the hospital.

I had a memory this morning, and was able to express more of my own emotion around it than I have before. I was just seventeen years old, was a couple of months into my first boyfriend relationship (the abuser I eventually married), and a respiratory infection resulted in an asthma episode that got completely out of control. My inhaler no longer worked and I couldn't breathe. My M took me to the hospital. Somehow, I don't remember how, the BF was there, too.

I had never been hospitalized before in my life (since birth and relinquishment and adoption), and I was scared. My M stayed long enough for them to get an IV in me and a ventolin mask on my face, and then said "Well, he (BF) is here with you so I'll go.) And she left me there with this virtual stranger.

I stayed in the hospital for three days and nights, that's how long it took them to be satisfied that I could breathe properly again. I hated being there, it scared me, I felt so alone and unmoored and lonely and abandoned. M came to "visit" me, like a stranger. One evening, she came with her brother, my Uncle, who was visiting from out of town. They stayed for half an hour. When she said they would go, I cried and begged her not to leave. She left anyway.

I can't believe she could just leave. How could she just leave? If it was my child, my adult child, even, I would never leave while they were begging me to stay with them. I would have been so concerned about my child's ability to breathe, and so grateful that they felt better, and wanting to make sure we protected them in the future, and loving on them, bringing them food and comfort and companionship. I would WANT to be there just as much as they wanted me to be there.


The hospital where my M is now is very close to my house. My brother has to drive an hour in rush hour to get there. He and his wife are "stay in the hospital with the person 24 hours a day if you can" type of people. He is there now, I believe. I won't go.

My husband is willing to go (the second husband, the not-abusing husband), to give him a break.

But it won't be good if I go. I can't handle the leave-taking, and I don't want to stay, and I can't handle my brother staying and not taking breaks because he feels he needs to be there all the time. I can't handle the fact that we can't cooperate with each other to make a plan. I can't handle the hospital, and her in the hospital, and all the other souls in their bodies in the hospital. And the noises and the smells and the pain and the suffering and the bodies and the waiting.

I've had to wrestle with the idea that others will have an opinion of me if I don't go to the hospital when my M is there, and when my brother is there and I am not, and I stay away from her, and I don't "help" with that kind of thing, and the "kind" of daughter I am, the "kind of person" I am. I've asked myself if I can live with whatever people might think of me if I don't do this and instead do that. Can I live with being "that person" who makes this kind of decision.

Can I live with not being "good". Can I live, instead, with being ME.

Can I accept that I don't have to be "good" by external standards, by perceptions, by an image.

Yes. It hurts, it's hard. It also feels freeing, to give up on the image, maintaining an image of the good daughter, the good woman, the good sister, the good person. It's freeing to live by my true limitations, choices, and abilities, by my own frailties. It's okay to feel frail, to need protection, to be vulnerable. It's okay to "not be able to".

I don't need to be able to do everything. I can do some things, and some things I cannot do. It's okay for me to choose which hard things I will undertake, and which things I will not.

So far, I haven't been cast into the outer darkness. People may be disappointed, even angry. But I'm still here, I'm okay.

This is a hard place to be, it's hard to be on the outside. I put myself here for good reason. Inside that system, that family system, too far inside of that is not good for me.

I wish I was above all of this, but I'm not. And it makes sense that I'm not. There are reasons why I'm not.

Now, I'm finally living with the truth of it all. This is what the truth looks like.

[Gently]

TW: I find these details triggering, so I assume there are others who do, too: delirium, restraints, hospitals

It turns out my M has been diagnosed with Covid. My H did go in and see her. She didn't know him at all, she was too delirious. They had to put her in restraints. She asked my H to call the police because she was being imprisoned.

Just writing these things makes me feel shaky. I can't handle the intense vulnerability of being like that in a hospital. It's overwhelming to me, I feel like it's happening to me, or like I need to rescue her somehow from it. It feels so threatening and dangerous.

I have been grieving a lot today, lots of weeping and sadness over the reality of all of it, especially the memory from my teenage asthma hospitalization and her brutal emotional neglect of me. Deep, honest grief.

I spent the evening watching TV. I needed to be distracted.

We have plans to go downtown with the kids tomorrow. Right now I don't feel like doing anything, but it would be better to be with them than staying home and watching TV all day.

I can't do hospitals, but I really can't do hospitals with my M, and I really really can't do hospitals with a delirious M. I can't handle irrational; I feel like I've had to deal with a certain level of her irrationality my whole life and when it's amplified like that... It's too much.

On a different note, along with the distress of this situation, I was able to carry on with our plans for the day. I was subdued, and I wept sometimes, but I also enjoyed things, the food we ate, the place we found, the view and the sunset. That is new. I have not previously been able to hold more than one way of feeling, and when I've been in a similar situation in the past, it hijacked me for days.

I think I'm getting more comfortable with the feelings themselves. Tension, fear, emotional pain, confusion, indecision. I'm getting more comfortable with "I don't know yet" and waiting, not panicking, using restraint and staying with my own feelings. It still hurts, and it's hard, but I have a bigger part of me that can still feel like Myself, like a Self.

I do feel for her, I am not cold about it. That's different, too. I've had to be cold before to protect myself, to stay strong and not get sucked in. But I'm not so cold anymore, I can handle being a bit warm and soft and sad on the inside. It hurts a lot, but it's not a destructive kind of hurt. And I think this whole thing does hurt, it is painful, so it makes sense that it would hurt. It lets me grieve things that I haven't grieved well until now.

It helps to write about it. It helps to get it out of me

It's been a long day. Time to sleep.

[NarcKiddo]

I'm sorry you are grappling with this. It is hard and there is no easy answer. Except that as she has Covid I don't think anyone in their right mind would criticise you for staying away. It sounds like you may have a lung weakness. In any case nobody wants people spreading Covid around. Whatever the reality of the situation, the Covid situation sounds to me like it gives you a socially acceptable explanation for keeping away.

It is OK for you to choose which hard things you will undertake and which you will not. And I am happy that you have been able to experience holding more than one emotion at the same time. It sounds like you are processing all of this in a healthy and caring way.

[dollyvee]

I'm sorry Gently, it's a lot to process when you have your "things" and there is the family obligation to do "things." It's always a tough one to navigate, but sounds like you are doing a good job of finding space for yourself, and as NK mentioned, you have a perfectly acceptable excuse to stay away.

[Gently]

Thank you for your support, dollyvee and NarcKiddo. Having this space to process, share, be seen...even by one or two, it's a powerful medicine. Very much thank you.

I found I wanted to try to visit yesterday. I was prepared by knowing that it would not be the magical, fantastical scene that one part of me always believes it will be. I was prepared that it would be painful for me, that I would be subjecting myself to at the very least my own emotional pain in going into a hospital, never mind whatever I might find there in herself, her condition, her behaviour.

It was really hard. I was not steeled, I had not steeled myself. I was not going in cold. I felt nervous, afraid, even.

TW: hospitals, restraints, powerlessness, infant adoption

She was sleeping when we arrived. I could see that her head was listing to one side. They had propped her upright because her lungs are congested. She coughed. I took a spare pillow and was able to carefully wedge it between the side of her head and the bed rail without waking her. I can't bear physical discomfort, it feels cruel to allow people to be in discomfort if it can be alleviated. It felt good to see that her muscles began to relax and she looked more comfortable. I am so sensitive to discomfort myself, that it is really hard for me to see it happening to someone else, especially a vulnerable person in an institutional place like a hospital.

I saw that her hands had been bound in some kind of mittens, probably to prevent her from taking out her IV. This was quite triggering, I could feel myself reacting to seeing this. Was I restrained as an infant in hospital? Some relinquished babies were drugged because of their abject terror and incessant crying. I don't know. Loss of power, loss of agency, physical vulnerability are very triggering.

She woke briefly and attempted polite conversation. She was very groggy and her thoughts were disjointed. But she was not agitated, she was calm. I am grateful for that. We visited for only fifteen minutes and then she was happy to be allowed to continue to sleep.

I was, I am, overcome with sadness. Today, I feel bruised and tender with sorrow and grief. My own, hers, ours.

I felt myself wanting to dissociate a couple of times, and was able to draw myself back together and hold onto myself. I was gentle with myself. I'm being gentle with myself today, too.

I feel so much, too much, for her. I'm so open to her and my perception of her suffering.

TW: abandonment, adoption, emotional neglect

I am identifying my own past trauma with her situation as if it is me as an infant, left behind, actually abandoned by my biological universe, my Mother, and feeling that this place, this hospital, is a scary and dangerous place, not safe, threatening. I am identifying as the teenager whose Mother (now adoptive mother) could only stay for 30 minutes because she wanted to appease her house guest, and was able to leave her own daughter crying and afraid and needing her.

I am feeling all of those things as if they are happening to me when I go into the hospital, also as if those things are happening to her and I need to fix it, do it right, make it better, for my own self, for my past infant self, for my past teenage self.

I think that is what has been operating in me all these years, and why it wasn't working. The way to do it right, make it better for myself now, is to know what my needs are right now, in this moment, and attend now, care now, be attuned now, protect now, comfort now, nurture now, love now, feel now, stay with myself now.

Every time I do that, every time I make my own Self important enough to care for, every time I show love and nurture and comfort and compassion for my Self, am gentle with myself, accepting of myself, I am "fixing" what was wrong before. I am teaching myself what I didn't learn at birth: that I deserve and am entitled to be enthralling to my caregivers, watched over, delighted in, eagerly anticipated, jealously preferred to all else, someone's whole world, several people's whole world, the most important person in the room whose needs are striven to be met with attunement and accurate interpretation, and when they can't be because of parents' human limitations, continuous presence and not abandonment. This is the birthright and need of all human infants.

I am learning to do this for myself, now. The more I am able to attune to these needs now, the more calm and confident and resilient I am over time, the more I can trust that I am and will be okay, the more taking care of myself will be second nature. I won't be triggered by the fact that I have needs. I won't be triggered by the fact that I have feelings, and needs.

This bruised feeling, this tender and bruised feeling, these painful emotions that hurt so much. I want them, they are mine, they are Me. This is Me, the real Me. And I want all of the real Me. I am intensely interested in all of the real Me, my whole well being is incredibly important to me. Like a new parent with their newborn, I want to know and understand everything, and I delight in watching Me grow.

And like a new parent with their newborn, I am slightly baffled that other people are not nearly as enthralled by [Me] as I am.

I didn't have it at birth when I needed it, nor during childhood. So I'm doing it for myself.

[NarcKiddo]

 

[Gently]

 

[Gently]

I've made short visits to see M in the hospital two more times. They have both been fairly undramatic and tolerable. Also more tolerable is living the the reality of our relationship, the barely there relationship alongside the visceral desire for connection that remains, the fantasy of connection that overlays reality and tries to trick me, especially after a not-unpleasant visit. Like training wheels, I rely on the now established habit of very short and limited exposure and contact, followed up by days of distance and recovery of Self.

Another fantasy is one that tells me how helpless she is and that I need to rescue her. That fantasy is extremely compelling. It feels so true and urgent. Yet, as I do hard things I can feel the truth that she can do hard things, too. I can feel the strength of having done my own hard things, which gives me a template for the reality that People Can Do Hard Things. That truth is feeling more real as I embody it through making difficult decisions that inevitably lead to opportunities to feel my own pain.

I tell myself to "stay here" when my mind wants to travel through space and time to hover over her bed in the hospital. The more I stay here, in my own body and my own life, the more distinct I am from her. The more distinct I am from her, the more I can let her do her own hard things while I do my own hard things. The more separate we are from each other, the more capable I am of offering her a small, limited kindness that is well within my capacity and aligned with my own values and intentions.

While I saw her last night, I felt myself wanting to leave. I could feel the part of me that wanted to get the heck out of there. I empathized with and honoured that feeling in me. The fact that it rose to my awareness is a miracle in itself. It had to compete with a lot of other feelings and thoughts: had I been there long enough for it to count, will she be upset, can she handle me leaving yet, is it an opportune moment to leave, etc.

I did sense that she was "done" with being polite and visiting. That's another new thing. I have declined to participate in dialogue that strays to content that I do not want to engage with. It means talking with me no longer serves her deeper emotional compulsions, and she tires of it more quickly.

The other day, my brother told me that as soon as she became angry and acted out during their visit, he and his wife immediately left. In the past, they have stayed and endured her verbal and physical abuse in an attempt to still reach her, relationally. I am glad to hear that they are no longer tolerating abusive behaviour from her. Maybe we are finally on the same page. Maybe we can find some kind of new normal in M's final years. Maybe.

For now, I must remain diligent lest the fantasy emerge stronger once again and lure me into a state of complaisance. I think it must always be that way. I think I must always remain on my guard. Since I am not, at this time, willing be completely out of contact, I must hold my ground. I must endure the tension the best I can, and preserve my own well being.

[Blueberry]

Impressive realisations and initial steps dealing!

[Gently]

Impressive realisations and initial steps dealing!

Yay! 

[Gently]

I went to the hospital on my own, without my husband, yesterday. I didn't visit by myself, but went to join my B and SIL who were already there. I knew this would be very emotionally intense because I haven't seen them in person for months. I wasn't concerned about aggression or anything, it's not like that. I was aware that it might become emotionally intense with them. I felt nervous before leaving the house.

I had just finished a support group session in which we had a guest guide us through a meditation. That could not have been better timed for me.

The visit was okay. Mom was emotional, frustrated, sad. She cried when we left. That kills me, I just can't handle that, and then leaving while she's crying, is brutal. We did it, though.

The three of us chatted in the lobby for a while. That's when it got intense. I was able to watch from more of a distance the dynamic as we talked. At first, we all seemed to be in the present moment, offering mutual support, talking about how hard it is, how sad it is, what we wish was different with M. Then I watched my SIL begin to reach back to rehash out details that felt irrelevant to the positive support tone we had been in. Almost as if she was saying "Yes, this mature healthy way of talking about things is all well and good, but let's spend some time rolling around in the muck together, don't forget about all the muck, and remember this muck, and this muck." Like she felt more comfortable with the crisis than with a settled place after or within the crisis.

She also introduced talk about our interpersonal relating with each other. She spoke on my B's behalf, saying what he felt and wanted. He was standing right beside her. I responded that if he wants something, he should ask. It was weird. I was fairly blunt when she said he has a hard time with that. "He'll have to figure that out." I said. I looked at him. "You need to ask, if you're not sure, ask. I can't read your mind."

She said we should get together more often to talk. That's rich. They have never, once, reached out to me to talk. Over the years, I have been communicative when I was primary caregiver for M, they have not. Then he said that there's been a lot going on, not just with M. I sensed that part of getting together to talk was me being a dumping ground for emotion and frustration. I remembered that, a few months ago in a rare phone conversation with him, he went off letting off steam with lots of high emotion. It strained my nervous system. I was not about to sign up for that kind of "getting together to talk".

I told them that if we are talking for mutual support, emotional support, or talking through decisions that works for me, but if there is dumping of pent up emotion and frustration, I can't be that person. That's not me. I need the talking to be calm, I need calm

As it turns out, my B lost his self control at work, a toxic workplace albeit, and went off on his bosses. He was shown the door, and he took it, and now he's unemployed. Apparently he went off on his wife's friend shortly after that. In spite of these internal pressures overriding his nervous system, they continue to drive every day across five cities to visit M at the hospital and then sit with SIL's family friend. There is so much pressure in their lives, and then it spills out in a negative way onto the people around them.

Two years ago, when M was in hospital after a stroke, SIL came out into the parking lot where I was waiting with some food for them (I couldn't bring myself to go in, I had just begun to recognize that I was dissociative and vulnerable to the stress of the whole hospital M thing), and she walked up to me screaming about how awful it was inside with M. My whole body went into shock and I had a panic attack right there in the parking lot. I was amazed at this response in myself. I had never felt that happen to me so violently before. That's when I realized that she wasn't a safe person, emotionally.


So, I knew it could become intense with the two of them, and it was. Not nearly as bad as it had been at other times, but it became quite impacting. I was quite strained when I got home, and needed the rest of the evening to recover. I made food, took vitamin c, watched mindless television. I had the chance to talk with a friend about other interesting things, and mentioned the stress of the hospital interaction and the deep emotion with it all. I took a bath before bed. I can feel the strain in my muscles still this morning, and I notice that my mind is more preoccupied with M and the hospital than it has been. I can feel myself pulled there more strongly, making up ways to make things nicer for her, feeling really bad that I'm not there, more. I feel the compulsion acting on me, to be there myself, or make sure someone else can be there if I can't. A frenetic energy, an anxious energy.

I need the distance from my family that SIL was suggesting we close. It was interesting to hear her say that we should get together, and to at the same moment know that it would not be good for me. I used to feel so badly that I wanted to be close to people, that all I wanted was for them to want to be near me and often, to be with people. And now, to feel differently when offered the thing I have believed was the one thing I was longing for, to feel that I do not want that thing at all, not with these people, not in the way they are when they get close. It's strange. It felt sad, to know that I did not want the connection that they want from me.

What I don't want, to be clear, is to let them use me as an emotional dumping ground. That's what I don't want.

I survived the solo trek to the hospital and the interaction with B and SIL. I won't do anything like that again any time soon. It was extremely draining and straining, and it activates things in me that need to be deactivated. I can choose to engage when I am strong enough to withstand the effects, and when it serves my interests on my own behalf or on behalf of them or M. But I will not engage if it stands to cause me harm, or set me back in my recovery.

I was proud of myself when SIL asked me how I was doing. Always I have felt that I had to say how weak or unwell I was to justify my absence, my lack of participation. This time, I was pleased to say that I was actually doing really well. And I meant it, and it is true. I am doing really well, and it pleases me. And I wasn't ashamed to say that I am both doing really well, AND I am not straining myself with exposure to M or other stressors. I am doing really well BECAUSE I am holding those boundaries firmly. I'm doing really well, so I must be doing the right things, and it's working.

Living with the tension of the things I won't or can't do, and the pain of that, and the disappointment of other people, and my own disappointment, has made way for some acceptance and a new sense of normal. There is relief there. There is relief.

[Blueberry]

Yay for you on holding those boundaries versus SIL (and B)

You're not their emotional dumping ground, they need to establish their own boundaries towards those people who are dumping on them. I do know that can be hard to do, but it's not up to you to cushion them from the results.

 

[Blueberry]

Btw Gently you seem so clear in your processes! Clear and strong. Sounds as if you're making a lot of progress, almost a joy to read 😀
Please don't take that badly as I'm sure lots of suffering on your part preceded the changes.

[Gently]

Btw Gently you seem so clear in your processes! Clear and strong. Sounds as if you're making a lot of progress, almost a joy to read 😀
Please don't take that badly as I'm sure lots of suffering on your part preceded the changes.

Thank you so much, Blueberry. It is a huge relief, and a tiny bit of cautious joy, to feel even a little bit capable of functioning in this new way. Enormous efforts and pain, and increasingly skilled support from my husband. I am lucky to have the time and support to do all the hard work that it's taken to feel a bit of relief and strength.

I love your disclaimer about your comment "a joy to read"! Only here, where we all know how incredibly painful and difficult and seemingly impossible it has felt for so long, do we understand that invoking joy might be problematic. We get that people have tried to paper over our stories with toxic positivity, which has been the opposite of helpful.

But I happily receive your feeling of joy in reading my hard won wins. I share them on this day.