So ma is having an outpatient surgery this coming week and then she'll be in a rehab center for over a month because there is no way we can care for her in our home afterwards (she won't be able to walk for over four weeks).  

Can I say I am a tad bit giddy at the idea of having my house to myself for over a month?  Or maybe more than a little? LOL  But I'm trying not to get that excited because it may not happen (because you know how these things go) and also she's going completely under, which is a little scary for her.  

Also, can I say she's been more than a tad bit crazy these past weeks due to the looming surgery?  One way she's being odd is that she keeps buying shit.  I'm almost ready to get on her Amazon account and remove her debit card from it.  The other day this freaking gigantic air fryer shows up.  She claims I wanted one.  I did not.  Nor did I want that monstrosity in the house.  There is absolutely no room for it.  And she has a knack for buying me complicated shit to do more work with (like she bought me a clothesline thingy put in the ground for my birthday this past year...I'd have to carry our wet ass laundry from the basement, all through our hilly-ass yard to go and dry and then carry it all back in again).  Now that we're sending the air fryer back, she claims to my kids and hubby she's buying me a pasta maker.  OMFG.  I do not want a pasta maker, nor have I ever wanted one.  I used to have one.  I made pasta once and realized it was too much work, so I got rid of it.  Oh wait, no I used it for Fimo.  Then I got rid of it.  She keeps buying shit like she's made of dolla bills, y'all.  

Then we have the meltdowns.  She screamed at me because the one rehab center was reviewed as "the nurses talk about the patients, which breaks hipaa law".  So she was freaking the fuck out about it and I said to her calmly "Listen, of all things to be scared of, this is one you can let go, because in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter."  She screamed at me that just because it doesn't matter to me doesn't mean it doesn't matter and blah blah blah.  She refused to listen to me and kept interrupting me so I got loud and said "I will talk to you when you can stop interrupting me" and I left the room.  Now, one could say that she was just freaking out about the minor stuff because she can't face the big stuff, but my mother gets fixated on shit that has something to do with her.  And she related this to herself because she used to be a CNA (for literally like two freaking days before quitting) and she wasn't allowed to talk about patients, so therefore these nurses at this rehab center (Central Rehab we'll call it) shouldn't be able to do it either.  I have no idea what to say to her when she's being insane like that.  So I walk away. 

Later, when she brought that crazy contraption to me in the living room (that's another story about why we were in the living room, but that's coming next), I told her I found her a new rehab.  A smaller one, a nicer one, and a highly rated one.  RATHER THAN SAY FUCKING THANK YOU she looks at me and says "Oh, I wish I were going to Central".  Oh.  My.  Fucking.  God.  Even my son rolled his eyes and said "Wow, you really can't win with her, can you?"  

So why we were in the living room.  I woke up two days ago with a really bad migraine.  Like the kind you want to get up and pace around because it hurts so bad.  You can't do anything when that happens.  And my migraines are usually only this bad like 1-2 times a year, if that.  So, my mother has an obsession with coming into my room.  Like busting in, sometimes without even knocking, but even when she knocks she doesn't wait, she just busts in.  So I bought a lock.  Then she started taking to waiting until my husband got up to get ready for the day and then she knew the door wasn't locked and would bust in then.  She's like my dog.  He found out that if he goes outside and barks and refuses to come in, we'll lure him in with snacks.  We had to nip that in the bud because I don't need a little fat ass pomeranian who's loaded up on so many snacks he won't be able to get down the stairs without assistance.  Now I attached a eye loop to the house and he's chained so I can just pull him when he barks too much.  The point is, my mother and our dog have figured out the loopholes and the ways to get what they want while manipulating those in charge.  You set boundaries and parameters for me?  Oh, watch me find a way around them!  Damn those sneaky old grandmas and crazy little dogs!  

Anyways, so my mother has found her way around the rules and sneaks in anyways.  So two days ago, my husband went to the bathroom (he had a migraine too, but his was getting better, mine was not) and my mother knocked and immediately opened my door without me answering.  I jumped out of bed and said "Just a minute!"  She quit opening the door, but did not close it.  She said "I need to come in."  I said "I'm getting dressed."  She then replied "Oh god, you don't have anything I haven't seen before!"  And when I heard her say this, my stomach started boiling.  I hate that she thinks she has ownership of my body.  I almost forgot that she thinks this.  She obviously thinks she has ownership of my room.  She always has thought she's had ownership of whatever space I am taking up at the moment.  Meaning she will walk into a room in the middle of whatever I am doing: talking to someone else, playing a video game, writing, or working on something and make the moment be completely about her.  She interrupts me and other people speaking, because she believes she has rights to take over every situation.  She has no boundaries.  And if you tell her she's interrupting, she will get PISSED.  Though I tell her all the time now.  Because I've dealt with this my entire life with her and I am beyond done with her behavior.  So she says this thing to me, this thing that suggests she can tell me when and where she can see my naked body and I should not have any say so.  No, I was not naked, but that's what she was suggesting (she thought I was undressing).  So I walked up to the door, slammed it shut and locked it and got back into bed.  Because fuck that.  

So because of this "busting into my room" thing, my husband has taken to body blocking her.  Last week, she tried to push past him to get into our room after she woke us up and he answered the door because she wanted me to take a phone call.  I didn't need to take the call, I could have easily called them back.  But she wanted me to talk to them right NOW.  I was groggy and could not take the call, so he blocked her from pushing him out of the way and said "Back up."  And then shut the door and told her I was sleeping and I'd call them back later.  She did not like this.  So she punished us by taking the call and making the appointment for six in the morning, just so my husband would have to get up really early to take her...even though he works a late shift and won't get much sleep that day.  He's blocked her several times the past month, because for some reason she thinks she owns me, my time, my body, my space, and now she knows my husband will stop her if he's the one who gets to her first.  Not like in a mean way LOL  But more like "Sorry, she's busy/sleeping/doesn't feel weel, etc." And since Mr. Brooks is her favorite person in the universe (she kind of treats him like she's his wife, not me...it's gross and he hates it), she won't yell at him.  

So, migraine day, she tries to come in the room, he said "Shay has a horrible migraine and can't move.  She'll come out and talk to you when she's feeling better.  Otherwise, you can tell me and I can help you."  She just flat out ignored him.  So he walked away and went to the store to get water (my mother refuses to drink our filtered water and wants only bottled).  THE MOMENT our front door shut, my mother got up from her chair and came to my door and literally begged me to open the door and she wanted to come in.  Not in a sad way, but in her childish sing-song nightmare fuel voice she uses regularly on me.  I was shocked she just so brazenly ignored my husband's wishes and did it anyways, so I ignored her.  My head hurt, I was not going to get up, once again, to deal with her.  This was "trying to get into my room #3".  First she knocked to wake us up.  Then she tried to get in while he was brushing his teeth, and now this.  So I texted my husband and told him and said "I have to pee, but now I am being held prisoner in the room!" LOL  

So I got up to get food and pee (or pee first, because that would be silly otherwise) and I went to her room and said, food in hand "Okay, what did you need?"  She said "Go back to your room and lay down and I'll come in there and tell you."  I looked at the food in my hand and said "Ma, I am eating.  I am not going to lay down, what do you need?"  She then slammed her hands on her desk and screamed "NEVERMIND!"  I was bewildered, but also used to her insane tantrums.  This isn't new.  This isn't the dementia.  This is her.  Always has been.  She's erratic and her moods swing further and faster than a monkey on a vine.  I said "I am confused."  She glared at me and said "SO AM I!"  I said "Well, you have no reason to be confused, I am standing here wondering what you needed so badly all morning.  So tell me."  She then proceeded to tell me how horrible Central Rehab sounded.  And the whole hipaa law bullshit.  So this is why I changed her rehab.  It was bothering her enough to try to get into my room FOUR times now (this time was just verbal...though I know her obsession with being in my room as a) she hates boundaries and b) she can't be in my room, so she wants it even more).  And then when I changed to a nicer place that was higher rated, she didn't say thank you, but "I wish I could go to Central".  

Geezus.  Fucking.  Christ.  

Have I mentioned back when we first moved in and didn't have a lock I'd wake up to find her standing over me?  Or that when she goes into my room she looks through my stuff and makes comments about everything?  Like strangely insulting comments.  "Oh wow.  You have a lot of books.  I am not sure I'd ever want that many books in my room."  (I have a bookshelf and it's full of books...what else am I supposed to put in there??)  Shit like that.  So I've been taking to leaving my room when she's in it and not going back in until she leaves.  When that didn't work, I just stopped letting her in.  And now she's obsessed with being in my room.  Yesterday, my son knocks on my door and says "Can I come in?" and my mother screams from the kitchen "She never lets me in there!"  Yes, for the past week, I haven't let you in.  So that equates to NEVER.  *sigh*  

Yesterday, I did her laundry (as I always do) and then brought up my suitcase.  She complained it was too big.  I said "Well, your dumbass cat pissed all over my smaller one, so you have to make due with this one."  Just kidding.  I didn't call the cat a dumbass.  I love that cat.  But she did piss on it and I did tell my mother that.  Then I added that we'll talk about replacing that one later.  I wanted to let her know if her cats are going to destroy my stuff?  She's damn well going to pay for it.  But I never say it meanly.  Just matter-of-factly.  Anyways, she starts in on something else to bitch about and I looked her straight in the eye and said "You are welcome."  She glared at me.  "Why didn't you have Mr. Brooks bring it up?"  I said "You are welcome."  She said "You know I'll thank you later."  No I don't. She never says thank you.  She bitches about how what you did isn't good enough or how you did it wrong.  So I said again.  "You.  Are.  Welcome."  She said "Pffttt.  Thank you."  I then left the room.  By that time, I was so done with her behavior for the past few days.  So now I will tall her when she's bitching  about what I did and how wrong it was, I am going to just say "You are welcome." Maybe that'll give her the hint that she's being rude?  Maybe not.  But it'll make me feel better. 

I am not the person she needs to take her fears about surgery to.  It's a simple surgery, but I'd be scared, too.  But I am not the person to make her feel better or console her.  She has three other people in this house she can lean on.  And they will do their best to make her feel better (though usually nothing works with her anyways).  But it won't be me.  Why?  Because my mother's anxiety comes out as anger and meanness and very, very controlling behavior.  She won't say she has anxiety, but she's been diagnosed with GAD.   Now, I was born with panic disorder, GAD, social anxiety, OCD, and every other form of anxiety possible.  I have aspergers/ASD, which means I also have sensory processing disorder (which is the root of all this anxiety).  I can't take SSRI's because I react badly to them, and other forms of anti-depressants don't treat anxiety that well (like wellbutrin is a stimulant, which makes anxiety worse).  So I've been stuck my entire life dealing and coping on my own.  I've done pretty well lately, after about thirty years of doing horrible with it.  As a child, it was sooooo much worse because nobody knew what it was.  I was labeled as crazy.  In fact, I was labeled as crazy by my other until I was an adult.  Anything she doesn't understand, she attacks.  

So for my entire life, even as an adult, she's shamed me, humiliated me, and even scolded me for having anxiety and panic attacks.  She's been nothing short of ruthless, demeaning, cruel, and evil about it.  And now she wants me to console her?  Ha.  

Let me tell you, it goes against every fiber of my being to not be empathetic towards her.  Yet I don't have a choice.  I've put up so many boundaries with her that I can't take them down, nor do I want to.  When my mother leans on me and becomes vulnerable with me because she's sick or hurting?  The moment she feels better, I get chastised for it.  As though she's ashamed of her vulnerability, and she takes it out on me because I saw it.  She did it after she hit me in 2006, and after her meds were fucked up a couple years ago and she got the point she couldn't walk, eat, or hardly even talk.  Both times, she lashed back at me for taking care of her.  

I will not do that again.  I'd rather her be angry with me for rejecting her reaching out to me than to get punished for helping her.  Because fuck that.  And besides, she doesn't deserve my empathy.  I never got a single iota from her.  I had to suffer my entire life because of her.  

I make sure she has her meds.  I make sure she's fed.  I make sure she's clean, has her laundry done, and I give her haircuts (though...even though I do everyone's haircuts in the house, she will take scissors to her own head to prove she doesn't need or want my help...so I let her...she looks crazy, but hell, that's what she wants, so she can look however she wants).  I take care of her physical needs.  I am her live in caregiver/nurse.  I am not her fucking therapist.  I needed her so many times in my life.  So very many times.  And she always turned her back on me.  Every single time.  And she'd still turn her back on me if she didn't need me right now.  So I am not the person she needs to take her fears to.  

I am the person who locks her door because her crazy ass mother refuses to honor her boundaries.  I am the person waiting for the green light on her mother's surgery so she can get a freaking MONTH or more off from insanity.  I am not my mother's friend, her confidant, her buddy, or even really her daughter.  I am her nurse.  Plain and simple.  I do this because I have to.  And I am willing to accept that.  I just want this freaking month off so I can relax for first time in years.  Even when I was no contact, I could not relax, because she still found me in stores, and would come to my house (and still invaded my dreams nightly).  I am not looking forward to the month (or more) being over.  Oh god, I am not looking forward to that.  But I know it's what I need to do in order to keep my family safe and her safe.  She's a human being, and my job is to keep her safe, no matter how much she wants to be unsafe (she forces me to yell at her to get her to stop doing dangerous things).  

But for now, she can be in the hands of professionals for a bit and I can finally fucking relax.