So today I had to fix my mother's computer and it's still not fixed so I just bought her a new one.  Because fuck old computers.  They get so damn finicky and don't want to work right.  I don't see how she can stand using hers, and she really can't, so she will be very happy to get this new one in the mail in a few days instead.  Hell, it's better than any computer I've ever owned, so I really hope it works right LOL 

Anyways, she was being annoying again.  Chattering away, like usual.  But for once I tried to look at her with "daughter" eyes rather than "her victim's" eyes.  I see her as an abuser and it's so hard for me to tolerate being around her at all.  But today I realized something: she's freaking demented as hell.  I had no idea just how bad her dementia was getting.  I see her daily, but I don't have long conversations with her, and today I realized her non-stop noise making is her dementia.  It's almost compulsive.  She did open my door again today, but I'll just lock it, rather than get angry with her.  Because she can't hold stuff in her brain for too long, so she won't remember I told her over a week ago to never open my door again (after she let my cat in and I had to chase him around to get him out).  So I'm going to learn to stop getting angry at her and do a few things instead: 

1. I am going to divert her noise making to conversation.  That way she'll want to talk about something, like her cats, and not just making noise for noise's sake.
2. I am going to politely remind her, yet still be forceful enough to make her comply, about leaving the room after she's done smoking outside.  Today I was working on her computer and she came right in after smoking.  I don't think she's always doing it on purpose, but even if she is, I can still stand my ground and ask nicely and push it if she doesn't listen.  

Today I had a bit of a meltdown.  Not outwardly, but inward, and at first, I couldn't place what I was feeling, but then it dawned on me.  I felt exactly like I did when were stuck in Buttdick, MO, being held hostage by my jackass (and evil) cousin.  Though living with her for three weeks was FAR worse than living with my mother, especially with the way she is now, but the feeling was there, nonetheless.  

Yesterday, I bought her a special root beer.  I got everyone else a cherry soda.  She then said "What, no cherry soda for me?" when I said I got her a root beer.  And then she refused to drink hers.  So today, I drank her root beer.  Then she knocked on my door this morning and asked for it.  Maybe she knew I drank it?  Maybe not.  But I went into immediate panic mode.  

Let me tell you right now, I know that this episode today was entirely my fault.  I just feared telling her I drank her soda, because I thought she wouldn't want it.  I didn't want to deal with listening to her play the victim and act like someone did something horrible to her over a stupid drink.  So I went into the kitchen and finished making my pot of chili I had started yesterday (I felt like horrible shit yesterday, so I couldn't cook) and all the while, she was in the kitchen being louder and louder and louder until I said "SHUSH!  You are so loud, please be quieter."  She then kept bugging me about getting in the garage to get her root beer and I said "I will have to find it for you", thinking that keeping her at bay will give me to figure it out (and it worked, thank goodness).  So she started getting louder again, this time singing at the top of her lungs.  My heart started racing and I said "Please!  Be quiet!  You are so loud!"  She said "Thanks," in her shitty voice.  Then I added  "Remember when I was a kid, and you'd tell me to listen, and I'd say to what, and you'd say to the silence.  Which is what you got when I was at school.  Now that I am getting old, I get what you mean.  I prefer a much quieter house."  She said "Remember when your son used to come to my house and talk about how he loved the peace and quiet there?"  I replied "Funny, how he's the loudest person in the house."  She laughed.  And then I added "But now you are.  Which is even funnier."  Gotcha. 

Oh she did not like that one bit.  And she put her on her angry face (like Mr. Potato Head and his "angry eyes") and said "Thanks" like she was an angry version of the snake in the first Harry Potter movie.  So she then picked up her cat, the one she was singing really loudly to and started singing again, but this time in a whisper, just to annoy me.  She WOULD.  NOT.  STOP.  And I kept getting more and more and more annoyed.  Until my heart was beating fast and I just wanted to escape.  Knowing she was trying to piss me off just because I POINTED OUT THE OBVIOUS (and it's insanely obvious she's NOISY AS FUCK) was just turning my insides out.  So I went to the bathroom and stayed there until she went into her room.  So then I went into my room, where I felt like there was a huge weight pressing down on my entire body, with adrenaline surging through it like mad.

My old therapist said "Just tell your mother to go away when you want space in a room to do something."  I always said that was so much easier said than done.  Even though I know her moods are not my responsibility, I am so severely hypervigilant that I take on other people's moods all the time.  I can't help it.  I know I need to build a barrier to protect myself from that, but I don't know how (yet).  So if I piss her off, I get pissed off.  But me telling her how noisy she is makes me feel better in the moment, and it makes it easier for me to tell her again next time.  But it does not change her behavior.  In fact, it usually makes it worse.  But holding it in makes me feel like I'm going insane, so I guess it's something I can just keep doing and if she gets really bad, I can point it out to her that she does this in purpose in order to make me yell at her.  Which usually will get her to stop.  At least for awhile.  

So I went out to the car, where I had more root beer stored (A&W Zero), opened one, and poured it into her special root beer bottle and put the cap back on (they are metal caps).  She can't taste anything, so she won't even notice it's the same root beer.  And that got me out of a situation where she can say I was some kind of asshole for drinking hers to begin with.  

But I put it out for her on her magazine that came in the mail, and she took the magazine and not the root beer.  Oh well.  It's in the fridge now so she can drink it whenever.  

But in my room, when I felt horrible, I started having one of those impending dread panic attacks that I had in Missouri for three weeks straight (when we were homeless), I kept thinking I can't do this anymore.  I can't live with her.  I need time to live my life without her in it on a regular basis.  I am forty-four years old and I can't keep living like this.  Too much of my god damned life has been taken up by her.  Too fucking much.  And I am so over it.  

So my panic attack came to its crescendo and I started really panicking and wondering what the hell am I going to do?  Negative thoughts started passing through my mind like crazy.  One being suicidal ideation.  I don't think about that all the time.  Just when I feel like everything is hopeless and I will never be able to escape one type of bullshit or another (a common theme in my life).  And I don't make plans, just "I think might be better off dead that deal with this shit anymore".  I never mean it, but in the moment it feels so real and I feel so very, very hopeless.  I can't work.  I don't have any friends.  I can't honestly see myself having friends in the future.  My kids are going to have lives of their own one day, and my hubby is always working and I am always alone.  So what is there for me in the future?  Will I ever be able to just exist without judgement or someone getting on my case about something?  These are the types of thoughts running through my head.  But in that moment, my husband reached out started rubbing my back and it immediately brought me out of it.  And I realized that whatever we end up doing in the future, he and I have each other.  And he is my rock and my best friend and I would never want to leave this earth because I love my husband and my kids and they make life worth everything.  And I started to feel better.

So my mantra for today is "this too shall pass".  The feeling of dread.  The feeling of being alone.  Living with her.  All this shit.  She can't help being a mental case, and I wish I could help how I respond to it.    But it will pass.  The feelings.  The situation itself.  Everything.  And one day she'll be in a home and I'll be living my life with my family, hopefully in an intentional way that I start to build now.  All starting with my thought process.  And remembering that no feelings last forever.  And eventually I'll find my bliss again.  

Sidenote: Oh and one way I helped my mental health get better lately is to turn off ads for articles on my homepage so I can't see them and be sucked in by all the terrible things going on in the world right now.  So many articles about 5 year olds being murdered by their parents.  Geezus fucking christ.  The world is sick, but I don't need to know these things or store that shit in my head.  Because horrible news articles wears on those of us who may have a little too much empathy in life, like me.  So I turned it off.  And it does help me stay on task and feel better not thinking about such horrible things.

Okay, so my mantra today isn't for my mother, but my son.  He has autism and has issues with needing to know every little detail of everything.  And I am reactionary towards that, because none of my responses are usually good enough for him.  He likes to micromanage things and it gives him great anxiety if he can't.  Which is why I made a majority of everything yesterday while he was asleep.  My youngest and I cook in mostly silence.  Though when he was taking a break, he told me all about a bunch of stuff he's into.  And that kind of talk while I am cooking does not overwhelm me.  

I am not saying my oldest son is a bad person for what he does, he has autism, and this is one of his issues.  And today, he was having an issue micromanaging me about the turkey, and when the lid on the roaster didn't fit properly, he had a total meltdown.  Which led to a HUGE fight between us.  Though it did make me feel better to yell "I am cooking this holiday because I cannot stand the constant negativity from my mother, and now I am getting it from you!"  Not that it made me feel good to say that to my kid, but I knew my mother could hear me.  I am such an asshole.  But yeah.  It felt good.  

My son later apologized to me and we talked about his behavior.  And he pointed out that I also say things that feel like emotional abuse to him.  Granted, his words are more abusive than mine, but I do things and say things on a daily basis that cause him, and others, to feel stupid.  And when we were in the kitchen afterwards, I did something and he said "That.  That right there.  That's what I am talking about."  And I said "Whoah, I don't even realize I am doing it."  I say things like that out of frustration because I am overwhelmed.  Things like "It's not in there, it's in here!"  And other shit like that.  He does the same thing, but he learned it from me.  And I learned it from my jackass mother.  And she probably learned it from her jackass mother.  Generational emotional abuse, yay!  

So yeah, that's something I need to work on.  I need to pull back, reassess what I am feeling in the moment when I feel myself getting frustrated, and respond, instead of react.  I mean, I don't talk like that to my youngest son.  So I can do better.  I talk about my mother never doing her best with me, but I apparently do not do my best with my oldest son (and my husband) either.  So I need to work harder at that.  He deserves a better mother and to be treated better, even if he can't do the same for others.  But he can.  He just has certain days where his emotions run high and he gets super overwhelmed and he lashes out.  He has rejection sensitive dysphoria (and I do too, I just get super depressed, rather than angry) and I need to learn the right way to diffuse the situation, rather than throw more gasoline on it.  Which I somehow always do.  

Both my kids, myself, and my husband have autism.  So it's really hard dealing with your own asperger's issues and trying to navigate everyone else's, too.  But luckily, I am higher on the spectrum and can get a hold of my emotions when I have to.  I just need to learn to do it more.  

So my mantra for today (even though my mom did try to interfere with our cooking and pissed off my kids) is: 

"Know your limits, but also know the limits of those you love".  And when either he, or I, are pushed passed our limits, we tend to get pretty angry.  So the trick is to walk away before your limits are pushed too far, and the same goes for their limits, as well.  Walking away, taking a break, is a great way to calm down and think straight.  I love my kids and my hubby more than life and I do not want to be the cause of their pain.  And I want to be able to help my son (and everyone I love) by learning how to diffuse a situation before it gets worse.  So I will be reading up on some autism parenting books and see what I can find out.  Though, like I said, walking away is a great tool, though it doesn't always work.  I wish I still had a (good) therapist, so I could run this by them.  Oh well, though.  I'll figure it out by reading, like I do with most things LOL  

So dinner is done and mother only complimented the one thing nobody liked: my sweet potato casserole.  There was zero flavor and it was gross.  But that was pretty much the only thing she said she liked.  But only after we all were saying how gross it was.  Of course.  

Also, I realized today, though this is something I realize every single year, I fucking hate Thanksgiving food.  Like, I honestly HATE it.  I have since childhood.  There is not a single traditional meal that my family makes that I like.  Turkey being the biggest thing I hate.  I hope tomorrow's turkey sandwiches will be better than today's turkey dinner.  Yuck.  So, I have decided, along with my husband, who also hates it, and also with my kids: we are done with Thanksgiving.  From now on, we're going to make something we love instead, if we do anything at all.  Next year, mother will either be in a home or her dementia will be worse, so she won't even remember it's Thanksgiving, so we'll be able to cook anything we like.  Earlier in the week, she was actually angry at the kids because they wanted to smoke the turkey.  I fucking hate holidays because of her.  She either ruins everything by being horrible or I fear she will be horrible so I am on edge all day, which contributed to my bad mood earlier.  Which I know is my fault, but if we didn't have to celebrate anything with her, then I wouldn't fear it and I'd be much happier.  Sigh.  Well, I found a way to buy cheap land (though not the land yet) so I hope come this March or so, we'll be able to find something and get working on our escape plan.  Mother in a home.  We on our own land.  Fingers crossed.  

Okay, so I'm going to start a new mantra today.  Today's new mantra, which I will also use for the rest of the 30 days (and beyond) is something I learned today.  

When I got today, I had forgotten it was Thanksgiving tomorrow.  See, my mother is usually up everyone's ass about the holidays and getting stuff done, so much so, I have no idea how to be my own person during them.  I don't even know how to defrost a freaking turkey.  But after the past several years of my mother cooking us rotten, expired, and undercooked food (and us always getting sick afterwards), I said no more.  Not only that, she's a RAGING BITCH in the kitchen.  She acts as though cooking so much food is so freaking stressful, and nobody else can do it but her.  But she's wrong, and it's not hard, or complicated or insane, and if your kitchen isn't full of idiots trying to tell you what to do, then there is zero reason to get overwhelmed and scream at everyone.  Which is how I get when she's in the fucking kitchen and trying to cook while I am cooking.  I don't scream at anyone, but I want to.  

So today, she didn't speak to me until later, and when she did, she got bitchy with me about buying her cigarettes.  I said I'd do it, but she was going on about it, and acting really annoyed.  So apparently my mother doesn't like getting scolded like she did yesterday.  Oh well.  

So my son and I took all the food out, and made all the sides and the pie and the fudge, and it took us only like an hour and nobody was stressed out.  We listened to holiday music and it was so calm and peaceful.  Why?  Because my crazy ass mother was in her room with the door shut.  At first, I got all annoyed about it, her ignoring us, because she's mad that I said I am cooking Thanksgiving this year, not her.  Funny, you wish for something, but then it happens, and all you can do it worry that things are going to blow up later.  

Why do we do that?  Why do we feel like we're doing something wrong when they ignore us?  So I turned to myself and thought "What am I even doing?  I am not freaking responsible for her moods or her emotional behavior.  If she wants to be mad, that has nothing to do with me."  And I let it go and ended up having a great time cooking with my son.  And when my mother finally came out of her room, I even joked around with her and thanked her for taking the recycling out.  It felt so good to let it go and not let my mind spin out of control about her mood, whether she was angry or not.  I need to stop taking responsibility for her moods.  I need to stop let her moods dictate mine.  We are separate people.  Not one.  Growing up always taking her moods as my own, it's a very hard thing to stop doing.  But it can be done.  Which is why this is my new mantra for the month (and beyond).  

So today has been a good day.  I hope tomorrow is, too.  

So today I have barely spoken to my mom.  Not for any reason, but some days she shuts the door in her room, so I don't see her much.  Remember: I am in my room for a lot of the day, too, due to her not letting me have any space in the house at all to myself unless it's my bedroom.  Or unless I am in the garage and have the door locked.  Last year, I didn't even get that.  I'd go in the garage to escape her a lot and she would either follow me out there, or come out the front door and turn the corner to the garage and smoke right by the open doorway, knowing I am allergic.  This behavior is what keeps me prisoner in my room.  I am not allowed to be anywhere without her disrupting me.  And when I say in my room, I mean with my door shut.  Last week, I had the door open, and she immediately walked right into my room and sat on my bed.  I finally got her to stop (again) opening my door without permission, and now she just doesn't open it at all.  All because she opened my door to let my cat in many weeks ago while I was eating lunch (yes, I have to eat meals in my room, too) and I screamed because he's a little shit who will steal the food off your plate, so I freaked out and chased him around my room, all while yelling, and then throwing him out and saying "DO NOT let a single animal in my room again!  If they want to come in, I will open the door for them.  Period."  And she hasn't touched my door since.  

All it takes is for me to freak out.  

And I HATE freaking out.  I HATE having to yell at her, but she refuses to listen to my boundaries and rules unless I do.  

Today has been no different.

So, I was cooking dinner and she goes out to smoke and I knew, I just KNEW, she was going to come right back in and sit at the table and not leave.  My rule is (if you read yesterday's post) if you smoke, you go air out before coming into the room where I am.  And she came right in and turned to sit down.  I said "Hey, you need to go air out first, ma.  You just smoked."  She mumbled something to me and sat right down.  And so I didn't back down, because that's what my mother wants.  She wants to push me until I just give up and let her do whatever she likes.  She thinks if she can't smell herself (she has no sense of smell or taste--which actually works to trick her when I have to, read about it here), then nobody should have an issue with the way she smells.  I have boundaries for a reason.  I am allergic to smoke, but also, my sinuses are SUPER sensitive to the smell of smoke (and hot vinegar, bleach, Windex, most other cleaners, hot peppers, etc.).  And my mother picks the cherries off her cigarettes (for you non-smokers, it's the light part of the tobacco), which makes her REEK like an ashtray. 

So I got super frustrated and said "You still stink, ma.  I can still smell you no matter if you are right next to me or across the room.  I can't stand it."  She just sat there and ignored me.  So I said, even though I wanted so scream at her, "Well, why don't you smoke your vape at dinner time so I can't smell you?"  She replies "I can't smoke that, I choke and cough when I do."  I said "Kind of the way I react to smelling cigarette smoke, right?"  She just ignored me some more.  So I said "Well, I guess it doesn't matter what I want."  And I proceeded to cook in silence.  Angry, rage filled silence, but silence nonetheless.  Then right when dinner was done, she got up and said "I will get out of your hair now."  I just freaking glared at her.  I said "Well, now you don't smell anymore and dinner is done, so it doesn't matter anymore."  I served her dinner, and went to my room to eat, and haven't spoken to her since.  

So today, the mantra "she can only give what she has"?  DOES NOT APPLY.  Okay, it does, but I don't care.  She was being a horrible bitch to me and now I am going to have to go into "PUT MY GODDAMNED FOOT DOWN" mode refuse to make her dinner if she going to be in the room while I cook after she smokes.

So first, as I always do, I give myself time to cool off.  That means I am going to premake a bunch of dinners for her tonight so I can avoid having to confront her yet.  Then when I do cook later in the week, I am going to lay down the law.  I am going to say "Listen.  I cannot cook dinner for you anymore if you are going to smoke and then sit in the room after.  So here's the deal.  You can smoke all you like, but you are not allowed to sit in the kitchen with me while I cook.  You can read your book in your room from 4:30 on.  Before that, you can read in the kitchen all you like.  But from 4:30 on, I will have the kitchen to cook in."  See, she's been taking to coming out of her room at 4:30 to come read while I start her dinner.  Which is annoying as fuck, because she doesn't read, she runs he mouth.  She makes nothing but constant noise whenever she thinks people can hear her.  She says nothing at all when she's alone.  NOTHING.  But the moment she thinks people can hear her?  She will just make noise.  She will have full conversations with the cats, and say the same the things over and over and over again, just trying to make as much noise as possible.  Some might say this is dementia, but she's always done this.  She wants attention and she wants to take all the attention of whatever you're doing away from you, so you pay attention to her.  If she hears us talking in any room, she will start yelling loudly to talk over us, whether we are inside or out.  I stopped letting her do it, too  I started talking more loudly to show her that people are talking already, and it's not her turn to speak.  

I am shaking right now because I just screamed at her.  And I told her that I hate that she makes me scream at her because she can't just do as I ask the moment I ask it.  She then blamed her dementia on it, stating "I can't always remember".  I laughed (a rage filled laugh) and said "DO NOT LIE TO ME.  I ask you in the moment to stop standing in the room with me after you smoke, and you refuse to leave.  so that is not your dementia, mother, it's your obstinance and defiance and you being angry at me for placing rules on you."  She said "Well, I.  Am.  Sorry." in a defiant voice.  I said "No.  You.  Are.  Not."  She said "Oh Shay, why would you say I am not??"  I said "Because you push me to the point of having to yell at you.  You can't ever just do something because I ask you to.  If you were sorry, you wouldn't get angry every single time I ask you to leave the room.  That's defiance, mom, not sorry."  And then I added "If it were Mr. Brooks (my husband) asking you to leave the room, you'd do it immediately, no questions asked.  But when I do, you refuse to."  She just replied "Good.  Night." in her little defiant child voice.  

There was so much more said than this.  But every single response from her I got was lies.  And that part?  Is where the mantra comes in.  My mother has NO idea how to tell the truth or be honest.  She lies about EVERYTHING.  So that part?  Doesn't offend me.  I know she only lies.  She is incapable of telling the truth.  She can only give me what she has.  And all she has is lies.  So that doesn't bother me (all of her responses to me tonight were lies).  My entire purpose for yelling at her was so she quits doing it.  I don't care she doesn't love me enough to care that it makes me sick.  That's understandable as my mother is incapable of love, period.  I care that she doesn't respect me when I ask her to do something.  So, like a parent of a shitty little kid who doesn't listen, I don't need her to respect me, but she WILL listen to me (funny, I never had to be that kind of parent with my own children, as they weren't shitty little kids--well, not all the time LOL, not like my mother is).  If I have to stop making her good dinners all together and only serve her microwave meals, then that's what it will come to (now, when I make her microwave meals, I always, always make extra food to make the meal more well-rounded, like I make extra rice or potatoes or veggies).  But I guess now she's only going to get microwave meals for a bit, because I refuse to cook lavish meals for her.  

But the issue isn't only me cooking for her.  I make our dinner (me and my kids) after hers, and she always goes out and smokes once again, and then comes in and stands by me or mucks about in the kitchen knowing damn well she's making me sick.  So I guess for the rest of the week, we'll either be eating really late or going out to eat (oh shit, it's Thanksgiving this week, so never mind on that).  

So I guess I only have to worry about tomorrow.  Well, then, I guess we're eating out tomorrow, because fuck being here to smell her ashtray scent.  Or dealing with her or listening to her fake apologies.  I am not listening to that crap, nor am I having it.  If she says she's sorry, my response will be "It doesn't matter if you are sorry, what matters is that you respect the fact that smell makes me really sick and you leave the room after you smoke."  This past week, she's tried to talk to me so many times after smoking, knowing damn well it bothers me, as well as getting really angry when I enforce that boundary.  And tonight, she basically admitted she doesn't like to follow my rules and that I was being silly putting rules on her.  As though me protecting myself from her hurting me (because making my sinuses flare up and making me cough IS hurting me) is too much for me to be asking of her.  

All I have to say to that is...what a fucking narcissist. 

So, apparently, just like everything else in my life, I have to FIGHT to protect myself from her.  I had to put a lock on my bedroom door because she kept barging in.  I have to keep my bedroom door closed, because she thinks it's free reign to just come into my room whenever she likes or bother me while I am working.  I have to spend all my time in my room in the first place, because if I don't, she has ZERO respect for whatever it is I am doing and will use every second of my time that she thinks I am available to her to give her attention, do her bidding, or listen to her random rambling.  I have conversations with her.  I allow her to ramble or say whatever she likes.  But she thinks every instance she sees me is fair game to suck up all my time.  Last year?  She used to run around the house, screaming my name, trying to find me, just so she could suck up my time.  

When I lived a block away from her I had to keep denying her requests to get a key to my house, because she thought she was allowed to intrude on my life whenever possible.  When she was in a nursing home earlier this year, she would call me to come and pick up her laundry to wash it for her, or to drop off snacks for her and her friends....even though the home she was at was almost forty-five minutes away!!  

My mother sees me an extension of herself.  And I am not allowed to have my own requests or feelings, since she doesn't agree with me.  I am an object to her.  All of which I understand.  And I accept that.  She can only give that to me, since everyone is an object to her, just in different ways.  

But I refuse to allow her to try to keep hurting me.  April of 2022 cannot come soon enough, when is the month my husband can start applying for jobs in HR.  And when he gets one, we will start looking for land to buy.  And today, I just learned how to buy land for not only cheap, but with no money and bad credit (though we have semi-decent credit).  And that excites me to no end :)  

Okay, well, this is Thankgiving week at the Brooks' house.  Fun!

Today I went to the store and got flooring for the bathroom (our bathrooms exploded) and of course, I had the kids show my mother.  And she could have cared less.  See, before, she was on my ass to have someone else fix them.  She is like this with everything. When my son wanted to change the oil in the car, she had a fit about us taking it to a mechanic instead. She bitches about the patio I am making for her, about the railings I made for her, everything. So this is no different. She has some kind of issue with allowing people to try things. It's because she has no patience. 

She's also constantly complaining that the other bathroom is too far away for her to make it there in time. But that's not true because it's not that far away at all (like mere feet). She's treated me this way her whole life, always acting like people can't do things themselves. Even though my dad did everything and never hired a plumber or a mechanic.  I guess she trusted him to get the job done?  I don't know.

So I don't know why I thought it was wise to show her the bathroom tiles. Why did I think she would like them? Why do I care? I don't. I thought it was being nice. Or maybe I just wanted her to say she liked them.  Or just show me that maybe she thought I was doing something right for once. It's hard when you do everything and someone is always there to tell you that you're doing it wrong. If I make her dinner, usually she tells me that there's something different I could have made or it could add something to it to make it better. It's constant and everyday. She does go some days where she doesn't say these things, but those days are rare.

And the really annoying part is the last time I did this, where I showed her something and she shot it down, I told my therapist about it he asked me why I did it, because I knew better. Instead of saying she was being stupid, he blamed me. So this time it makes me feel even more stupid. Because I don't care if she likes the flooring.  I don't care if she likes anything.  I care if I like it.  I care if my family likes it. But that's it.  She is not my family.  She is just an old woman who lives in this house that I am in charge of.

So I have to remember that she can't give me more than what she has. And all she has is impatience, judgment, and complaining. So I need to stop showing her things or stop caring about her responses when I do.  Deep down I do care, which sucks, which is why I need to stop showing her things.  But I will get over it very quickly after I start the bathroom floor, because then I'll start seeing the fruits of my labor and it won't bother me who likes it or not.  All I will be thinking about is what I made.  And that's all that matters really.  All that matters is the job I do and not her opinion of it.  Because I can't expect her to give me anything more than her miserable self.

I have rules in my house and most of them are for my mother, as she's the only real child here.  Most rules are to protect her (like don't go in the basement--per her physical therapist's orders, etc.) and some are to protect others from her.  And I made a recent rule that if she goes outside to smoke, she has to "air out" before coming near me, because she utterly REEKS like an ashtray.  And it really makes my sinuses act up (as does the smell of bleach, hot vinegar, etc.).  So I have rules about all strong scented shit that inflames my sinuses, and those rules are "they are not to be used in the house".  In the case of the "hot vinegar", it's so my mother cleans her fucking coffee pot while I am sleeping.  And since I don't leave my room until noon (I spend my mornings with my husband, watching YouTube videos together or one of our shows), that should be easy to do (though yesterday, she decided to clean it midday...uggh).  

My mother KNOWS my rules.  And she always disobeys them.  Not only that, she acts offended if I enforce them.  She's been taking to coming into the kitchen at 4:30 each evening, right when I am starting to cook.  My old rule was "GTFO while I am cooking", which she obeyed for over a year.  But now, she has a hair up her ass, and comes into the room right when I am starting to cook.  I cannot concentrate on what I am doing and will fuck up recipes if she talks at me (not to me, at me).  So I've been more vocal about her not being in there while I cook.  But she still does it.  So I leave it alone (my therapist said to pick and choose my battles, so now I just cook with headphones on).  But not today.  She loves to go smoke before sitting in there to read, and today I said "NOPE.  You have to go because you just smoked."  She said "I am," and proceeded to not leave (a trick of hers she likes to play with me).  So I stopped chopping potatoes and said "NO.  I mean out of this room.  Now."  She got hugely offended and said "FINE.  C'mon cat, let's go" she says in her ho-hum Eeyore voice, like that's going to make me feel bad.  "C'mon.  We need to leave the room" *ho-hum*.  I just giggled at her, because I do not feel bad nor do I care, since I am not the one stinking up the fucking house.  She then stopped in the hallway and turned on the other kitchen light, and said "Do you want that light on?"  She knows I don't.  I don't like unnecessary lights on.  And she just wanted to stop and make me smell her more.  I said "No thank you."  She then kept talking to her cat to follow her in her room and left the light on, so I reached over and shut it off.  

And when she does this shit, it offends me so greatly, because I know that she knows what my rules are.  And she doesn't give a fuck.  But then I remembered my mantra.  "She can only give what she has".  And she is nothing but full of defiance and selfishness.  Where that stems from, I don't know.  She loves control and showing others she can't be controlled.  Especially her doctor.  If a doctor tells her something, she will go out of her way to disobey his or her orders, just because she can.  And then she loves to tell everyone about it, because she thinks it makes her look like a badass.  "You can't tell me what to do!" is her mantra in life.  And I have to remember: it's not me she's disobeying, she's disobeying the rule I made.  Yes, she doesn't give two shits about what I want for my own health.  That I know.  But she doesn't have that mothering instinct inside of her, the part of her that should make her want to protect her child and help them, so she cannot give that to me.  She wasn't born with it.  Hell, she doesn't even want to protect and help herself, much less others.  I mean, sometimes she has it with her cats, but that's when she picks and chooses to.  Most of the time, they could be peeing blood and she'd say "Well, they had a good life" (for real, she did that once).  She even left our cat to have ear mites for his entire life until his ears were dripping with ooze and infected, and somehow that fucker still lived to be eighteen!  And she never once took him to the vet!!

God that cat stank.  Kind of like my mother.

But my point is, if she can treat animals that way, and herself that way, then why would I think she would care about my physical/health needs?  She would have let me die from a UTI back when I was 17 instead of getting off her ass to take me to the doctor.  So this is no different now.  But it's not about me.  It's about not being forced to do something she didn't want to do.  

She hates rules and will disobey them every chance she can get.  So the normal rules of "being a parent" do not apply to her, unless she has a whim to obey them.  And right now, she wants to push back on my rules to a) see if I enforce them, b) to see how much she can get away with, and c) she gets to play the victim by pretending I am telling her that SHE stinks, and not her cigarettes (as shown by the time she screamed at me "I CAN'T HELP IT!" as though her stink was some kind of unavoidable part of getting old).  She wants to be the victim so she can complain about me eventually her friend Christmas, or just so she can feel that victim mentally she loves to feel so much.  Even though all I am only asking her to do is leave the room until her cigarette smell dissipates.  

She can't give me what I want because she doesn't have it in her to think about other people (other than her favorite person, my husband--though that's even wearing thin with her).  So I should not take offense or see it as her trying to hurt me.  Even if she is, it's her vindictive game she's playing at payback for giving her rules to begin with.  Because my mother cannot do rules.  

We'll see how the rest of the night plays out, but most likely she'll come out to eat dinner and act normal.

BBQ baked pork chops and roasted sweet potatoes and roasted carrots tonight.  Yum.

If you know the lingo in the world of dealing with narcissism, then you know what going "grey rock" means.  If you don't, then I'll tell you that it's a way of concealing yourself among everything else in life, so you don't look like the sparkling glittering gem you are.  And you do this because when you are your sparkling glittering self, you are prime target for the narcissist.  You stand out to them, like a shiny stone among the rubble.  But you need to be part of the rubble.  Which is how you dull your shine and become a part of the background.  Which is the only way to protect yourself from a narcissist that you live with or have frequent dealings with.  

And becoming a part of the background?  Is not only not always easy, but can be excruciatingly painful and lonely.  To shove down the parts of yourself that make you "you".  To become so boring to the narcissist, that they pretty much ignore you (until they get super bored).  When you have to live this way each and every day, it takes a toll on you.  At first, getting ignored feels good.  You think, wow, this is working!  But then you slip up and become glittering again.  You forget for a moment who you're dealing with and who you're talking to, and act like everything is normal.  And you quickly get reminded of the fact of why you went grey rock to begin with.  And then, with enough slip-ups and then learning your lesson, being grey rock just becomes second nature.  

And that's when you start to notice just how bad it feels.  

Everyone always talks about how this is a good way to deal with a narcissist that has frequent access to you.  And it is.  To a point.  But nobody ever talks about the mental and emotional toll it takes on a person to practice this technique when you live with one for an extended period of time.

It's be almost two years now, that I chose to live with her.  The choice wasn't made out of anything other than the fact that both she needs us and we need her.  She needs us physically, and we need her financially.  I promised myself that I would never sell my soul to the devil again, after going no contact with her the last time, which lasted fourteen months.  But here I am, living in the devil's lair (okay, exaggerating a little here), even though we lived in two separate apartments before.  But it wasn't enough to live upstairs from her.  She was risking her life daily by going down her basement to wash clothes.  And going for walks alone.  And driving a car.  Which risked many other people's lives in the process.  So she had two choices: go into assisted living or we all move in together (which also meant, unbeknownst to her, that all those things would be taken away: the walks, the basement steps, the driving, etc.).  If she had went into assisted living, we would still be living in an upstairs two bedroom apartment with four dogs and four adult humans, but then with a stranger living downstairs from us (and us losing the ability to wash our clothes at home).  So the choice seemed to be simple.  Even though I knew it was so not going to end up well at all.  

At first, I tried to pretend we were all normal.  I tried to pretend this was our house, too.   But soon, I realized that if I did that, I was at the mercy of my crazy mother, who tried (and still tries) to make our lives a living hell.  It's a game for her.  A way to alleviate her boredom.  A way to pass the time.  The idea that someone can get off on hurting others, well, it's just beyond me.  When she sees weakness, she uses it against the person to hurt them.  Which means, if you show her that her opinion matters to you, which she sees as weakness, she will use her opinion to hurt you.  

So, that's why I went grey rock.  Because I was sick of her hurting me.  I would do something as simple as ask her at noon "Do you want some some lunch?"  And her reply would be "You're going to eat, again?  I literally can't each as much as you people do!"  She loved to food shame me, ever since childhood.  But then she moved onto my son, which I utterly hated.  And after yelling at her enough about it, she's better now with him, but mostly only because I make her eat alone (she used to require us all to eat dinner together every single night).  If I don't have her eat alone, she will get on everyone's case about eating, and it literally makes me physically sick (and was giving horrible food anxiety again, something I had as a child).  

Now, we all eat in isolation, in order to stay grey rock.  Sometimes I eat with my kids in the living room while we watch our shows.  But mostly we all eat wherever we want.  Though, I will say, we always did that before moving in with her.  It was only her that forced us to eat together at a table each night (we spend the rest of our days together, so meals aren't that important to us).  But only because I grew up with her abuse at the dinner table my entire life and now I hate eating dinner at a table because of it (well, her and my father's abuse).

Being grey rock is isolating, to say the least.  It's also depressing and causes apathy to creep up inside of your emotions.  You find yourself being quiet, when you want to speak.  Acting flat when you actually feel excited (or when you have any emotion at all).  And, most of all, slapping on a smile when you want to scream.  

Strong emotion is like fire to a moth with narcissists.  The moment you feel a strong emotion: happiness, anger, etc., they gear up, ready to pounce on you.  So you have to act flat at all times.  You have to pretend like you don't feel anything at all.  But ask anyone and they'll tell you that playing pretend can eventually lead to actually feeling what you're pretending (method actors know this all too well).  

There are good parts about being grey rock.  When they want to get a rise out of you, as in the case with my mother, she will do something stupid I would normally need to scold her for, and instead, I just don't react.  And it feels good to not play into their hand.  When she does something dumb, I just say "Well, I guess you're intent on hurting yourself.  So have fun with that." and walk away (though I don't let her actually hurt herself).  And when she sees I don't react, she quits whatever it is she's doing and stomps off like a little baby.  Or, if she's doing something really stupid, I don't even scold her, I just go behind her back and make sure she can't do it again.  Like when she wouldn't stop going down the basement, I put a lock on the door.  When she wouldn't stop pulling our HUGE garbage pails out down our long, winding driveway, I locked them up.  No need to scold her.  I just take action.  Unlike her parenting style, which was threaten, threaten, threaten, but zero action, I bring the opposite with her.  If she's been told more than once and she still does something?  I just plainly take action.  I show her that if she won't listen to me by choice, then she won't have a choice anymore.  Getting angry at her is exactly what she wants and will only make her do it again.  So I don't give her a choice anymore.  I know how she is.  And she doesn't make good decisions (because bad decisions bring her attention, which she likes).

So I became as boring as a grey rock to her.  No rises out of me.  No reactions.  No sharing anything with her.  Nothing.  When I got my Covid vaccine, I didn't even tell her.  She was going around telling her friends that I was a jerk and was refusing to get mine.  Which was not the case, as I have a phobia of taking new medication, which includes shots.  She got angry I didn't tell her, as she had to hear it from her friend, who I did tell.  But I wondered why she ever thought it was her business in the first place?  Yes, we live together, but I literally share nothing with her, ever.  Instead, when she brought it up to me, that I had gotten my shot,  I instead shared with her the fact I overhead her telling her friend that I was holding her hostage in the house, not even allowing her to go outside (which was toooootal bullshit).  And that was a showdown in which I was NOT grey rock.  That day I fucking glittered like a goddamned gemstone.  But it did work.  And she did stop her negative behavior and stopped telling her friends bullshit about me.  I guess the fear of being put in a nursing home really can make a narcissist think twice about making up lies about their caretaker.

Now, not all narcs will respond that way.  Mine does.  If I finally get angry enough to yell at her?  She will be good for a long time.  She knows better than to act up right away again, otherwise I may keep my anger from last time and direct her ass to Shady Pines.  

But when I did go grey rock with her, she turned to my husband as her source of supply.  I mean, she already did, but now she double downed.  Though not for meanness, but as her golden child.  So in reality, she's still trying to get at me through him.  If he has a migraine, she will be all caring and sweet  And if I do, she will look me straight in the eye and make as much noise as she possibly can.  She also acts as though she owns him, and thought she could tell me what to do with my own husband (though that part wasn't new).  She thought she could make decisions for him and for things that had to do with him.  But then he went grey rock, too, and now she leaves him alone for the most part.  

What happens when a narcissist has everyone around them go grey rock?  They get depressed.  And what happens when they get depressed?  They lash out.  Which is what happened when she told her friend that stuff that I overheard (that I talked about above).  She got so bored with me not giving her an ounce of narcissistic supply, so she turned on me.  Which can be a consequence of this technique, so be prepared.

But what happens when you live with a narcissist you have to deal with daily?  You get depressed.  And what happens when you get depressed?  You watch a lot Netflix.  I mean, look at the difference between a narc and us.  They feel bad, they lash out.  We feel bad, we retreat and isolate.  And going grey rock can make your depression worse, because eventually you feel like you've lost touch with yourself, due to the fact you have to act so different on a regular basis.  Not that we should quit being grey rock around our narcissists.  But maybe, we can find an outlet to be ourselves more often than we are allowed to be with them?  

But then the pandemic hit.  And then there was zero way to feel like myself outside of the house, because we couldn't leave our houses very much.  Those that did, and still do, those who congregate with friends and family, get covid-19.  And I am not about that (my family had the worst strain of adenovirus you can get, back in 2018, and I never want anything worse than that--it was horrible!).  So here I am, trying to find a way to be myself through writing and planning for our future, rather than dwelling on what's going wrong and letting isolation make my issues worse. 

Granted, as you can see from my blogging, I am doing both, planning for my family's future and letting her bother me.  But in order to help my mental and emotional health get better while being able to stay grey rock, I am trying to also keep busy by constantly working on an exit strategy.  It's funny, we aren't born with a manual on how to make life work for us, and not finding it until you're in your 40's feels like I am so far behind.  But then again, most people never get it, so I guess, I'm lucky.  I am also planning on a week-long vacation for my husband and I, in order to give us a much needed break from all this insanity, though I am not sure that's going to happen.  Though, once we get our RV's, I think it'll be much easier (plus, it will be part of our future planning/exit strategy, so that won't feel like we're wasting money on a vacation). 

Whatever you have to do in order to keep you mentally and emotionally healthy during this trying time, whether you live with your narcissist or if you are in daily or regular contact with them for long periods of time, it's worth it.  Now, self-medicating is NOT the way to go here, as I know many people choose that route, because they see no other way out.  If you have an issue with self-medication, please talk to a doctor or a counselor to get some help.  Instead, choose creative outlets, like art, writing, or anything else that's healthy to express your anger and pain.  And planning your exit strategy from your narcissist's life, and planning for your future, are great ways to bide your time until you can leave the situation.  I know, easier said than done, but it's imperative to not let the narcissist in your life push you into hurting yourself.  Because you're a glittering gemstone, not a grey rock, and you need to remember that.  Even if you have to be grey rock around them, it doesn't mean that's what you are all the time.

Don't let a narcissist forget just how much you actually shine.

I think my issue with the way I deal with my mother is that I don't have the amount of self-esteem needed to be okay to be myself around her without getting offended when she tries to hurt me.  I have LOADS of self-esteem around many people, but not around her (or other pushy narcissists).  I turn into this goopy mess of insecurity, who is hyper-vigilant, trying to stay aware of her jabs and digs she takes at me.  But why?  Who cares if she's rude to me?  I tend to hyper focus on that, and I need to stop.  The more self-esteem I have, the more myself I can be at all times.  That doesn't mean giving her info about my life.  It just means I don't have to hide from her or stay quiet all the time.  It's like I turned into this piece of brick, rather than a grey rock, who's just a lump in the corner.  I even watch what kind of clothes I wear, or how I do my hair, just so she leaves me alone.  It's quite ridiculous.  But that's when you push grey rock into being a brick.  My entire issue is that I need to stop caring if she sees me.  There's not much she can do anymore to me.  I tend to forget that our lives have changed tremendously, even from earlier this year.  I have almost all my power back.  But I still act like I have none at all.  

It takes time and practice to learn to deal with narcs properly.  We have so very, very many triggers from them, that we can think all we like about wanting to be a certain way around them, but actually doing it is the hard part.  But all it takes is doing something once, and then doing it again, and eventually, it's not an issue anymore to stand up to them or whatever it is you're trying to do.  Sometimes it feels like I have to actually pry my mouth open, like my body is stuck in a wall, and I have to yank myself out of it, in order to actually stand up to her.  But when I can actually manage it?  It feels amazing!  And, since my mother is a certain way, it works.  It changes her behaviors, usually.  Well, at least for a bit.  But, like I said, just take away whatever it is they are using for their supply, and don't give them access to it, and there ceases to be a problem.  

Here are some great YouTube videos to check out from one of my favorite YouTubers on parental narcissism named Patrick Tehan, LICSW, that you can watch to help you on your way from feeling like a brick (if you've gone grey rock either too long or too overboard) to feeling like yourself again.  

My 7 Types Of Toxic Family Systems - YouTube

7 Types Of Invalidating Toxic Parents - Role Play - YouTube

This phrase makes me think.  When a therapist once told me many years ago, after I had already been seeing her for six months (in order to deal with my mother's constant abuse), "Yes, yes, your mother did the best with what she had."  It was in response to something I said, while nodding her head.  And I was struck back.   It seemed to come out of nowhere, as she seemed to be on my side the entire time, up until then (granted, she was a terrible therapist who actually lied to me at every visit...it was, strange, to say the least).  I got angry (though not to her face, I am not that strongminded to be real with someone I don't feel completely safe with) and thought she was just making excuses for her out of the blue.  I wanted to scream "Her best?  Are you fucking kidding me?  She did her absolute worst!!"  Because how could anyone believe that doing the worst possible things be anyone's best?  Saying they did their best is like saying they were and are too stupid to do anything better.  But the thing is, I've seen her do better.  So I knew she was capable of it.  Not so much with me, but with others.  So to say she always did her best with me was more than just a lie, it was utterly profane.  She chose to do what she did to me and to my father and others.  She chose that.  And it wasn't her best choices.  They were her worst.  

So safe to say, that when my therapist told me that, it made question whether or not she was a narcissist, too.  And to find out later, after seeing her for almost a year, I realized she was.  So I don't know if her comment was out of her narcissism, to do what they all tend to do and switch sides like a light switch turning off, or if it was some kind of strange way to get to me let it go.  But she never elaborated on it again.  So I am thinking it was the former.  

But then today I read this sentence in the book Mother Hunger by Kelly McDaniel that states "a mother can only give what they have".  And it gave me pause before reacting in my usual triggered way when hearing something like that.  I stopped and thought about it for a moment.  I thought about the fact that my mother was born into narcissism herself (though I was, too).  She had a narc mother and a very, very codependent father (again, me too).  But unlike me, she was born without her brain being able to develop empathy.  Despite how much we think that empathy is something we are born with, we aren't.  We are taught empathy.  Granted, it may be something we learn even despite being brought up in a non-empathetic environment, but if we learn it, we have whatever working in our brain that is capable of learning it.  Narcissists don't.  That's what sociopathy seems to be.  The less empathy, the bigger the sociopath.  Narcissism seems to be a coping mechanism for sociopathy.  So, my mother is a sociopath (as are all narcissists), and how much does a sociopath have to give their children?  

Isn't that the real question here?  Every single person is different: different levels of intelligence, different beliefs, different understandings, different upbringings, etc.  So all of the narcissists in our lives are going to be different.  And they are all going to treat us differently (though if they get together, they may treat us similarly).  And if you mix my mother's extremely low IQ, extremely low EQ, ignorance on most subjects, low understanding of how people or things actually work in life, zero tolerance for things she doesn't understand and virtually zero patience (okay, below zero)...how much was she ever able to give me as a mother?  

Now know that I am not, in any way, shape, or form, giving my mother an excuse for abusing me (and still abusing me).  If you've been reading my blog, then you know that I am always trying to find a way to heal from her abuse while a) I still live with her and b) while she's still alive.  Because I do not want to wait until twelve years after her death to find a way to heal from it, as I did with my father.  I am trying to find a way out of my suffering, now.  Because I do not deserve to keep suffering just because I have to be her caretaker for the moment being.  

The Buddha (I am somewhat Buddhist, but I am not fan of "the buddha" himself, as a person) says that all life is suffering.  And it's all in your mind.  Because situations in life are neither good, nor bad, it just depends on how you see it.  Now granted, we can say that some situations are just plain bad.  Like people dying.  Or living with your narcissist mother.  But we can transform that pain, especially if we are adults, into something else.  Which is what I am trying to do.  

The path to the cessation of suffering is called "the noble eightfold path" in traditional Buddhism.  But I follow my own form of Buddhism, that I call "Essential Buddhism" (meaning just the basics, no complicated frilly other beliefs) and I revamped the eightfold path to what I call "the mindful twelvefold path", which is geared towards adult and teenage children of narcissists.  This includes: right understanding, right thinking, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort (all from the eightfold path), and right consumption, right boundaries, right love, right desire, right healing, and right community.  

So by using these twelve mindful concepts, we can release ourselves from suffering of most forms (though not all, sometimes we still will suffer anyways, because sometimes the pain is too great).  And that's what I am doing here.  I am using "right understanding" to try to understand the basis for abuse.  Or rather, why the fuck my mother always chooses the wrong actions with me (and others).  

And if you look at the path, you'll see that the first step starts with understanding.  And like I said above, my mother has pretty much ZERO understanding of how humans (others and herself) and things in the world work.  It's like she's an alien pretending to be human.  Like so fake that she seems to be always putting on a show, especially when she's being nice.  Just like my old childhood friend Rowlf (which you can read about in my memoir).  The only way these two women operate on a real level?  Is when they are fucking angry. 

So that means their modus operandi, their base level of operating, is basically rage and negativity.  When either Rowlf or my mother are having a conversation with someone and they are pretending to be nice and happy?  They come off sounding like really bad actors, or robots, who are forcing their interactions because they really have no idea how to be real.  I used to call Rowlf a "shell person" (not to her face), because she seemed to always be wearing a mask but the inside of her seemed to be hollow.  But now I know it's because she's actually only angry, sad, depressed, or irritated inside.  As kids, the moment her and her brothers' parents would walk out the door, sweet-Rowlf would disappear and she would begin to rage at her brothers.  Like screaming, yelling, threatening, and throwing things.  She literally scared the shit out of me.  And we were only twelve!  My mother is the same way, except her base level is more just negativity laced with anger.  She's always complaining about something.  And when she's not, she's being fake.  

So, the sentence, "a mother can only give what she has", I get it now.  She can only give me negativity, because she is negativity.  She has no other way to know how to be.  Rowlf is forty-four as of this writing, just as I am.  But my mother is seventy-four.  Imagine living seventy-four years as an irritated crazy cunt.  Like a walking yeast infection.  Damn.  I can't even imagine.  

I am fucking lucky.  My baseline for operating is sometimes irritation, but only when my mother is around.  When I am not around her, I am happy.  So right now, at this time in my life, I cannot get away from her, so how can I find my happiness?  Other than escaping the house each day to go to the store.  How can I find a baseline of happiness?  For one, I need to open my mouth more about what bothers me.  Granted, it's tiresome.  And my old therapist told me to pick and choose my battles.  But I realize that I am choosing to be uncomfortable over confrontational.  How many of us do that?  I bet a lot.  We fear confrontation due to the fact we don't know what to expect from them.  We do this with our parents, our spouses (who are mean to us, like my ex), our friends that we do not feel comfortable being real with, or at work.  We choose this all the time, rather than just saying what's on our minds.  And that leads to massive amounts of stress.  Which is what I am going through right now.  

So when I can understand her, it allows me to think properly about the situation, which allows me to choose better speech (rather than fly off the handle and cause the narcissist to play the victim--though they will anyways), which allows me to take better action.  But where are my boundaries here?  Why am I allowing her to cross my boundaries daily just so I don't have to confront her?  Having healthy boundaries means having less stress.  And I want less stress.  So I need to speak up more.  I can use loving speech (meaning not hateful) to say "Hey, can you stop (insert boundary crossing action here)."  And I can repeat it until she listens, because goodness knows she never EVER stops the first time.   

And I can stop taking offense when she doesn't listen, because again, what can she give me if she doesn't have it?  She doesn't have empathy, so why do I expect it from her?  

I used to expect my children's father to be a good dad.  And he always let us down.  Over, and over, and over again.  But I always gave him the room to choose better.  But he never did.  When I realized he was a narcissist, I let go of his bad behavior, and stopped obsessing over it.  I always expected him to do bad, so when he did, he never let me down again.  When we place high expectations on a narcissist, we will ALWAYS get hurt.  So why do I do that with her?  I didn't realize I was doing that with her until now, but I am.  I am placing an expectation on her to do the right thing.  I am placing an expectation on her to act right.  And she never will.  So, just like with my ex, who could not give me what he didn't have to give, I need to let go of the idea she will ever choose right or do right (or do it genuinely) because she cannot give me what she does not have.  

That's not her "doing her best".  I can't phrase it that way, because we all know that narcs can certainly give strangers their actual best.  It's just that they cannot give us what they do not have for us.  It's like, when our kids act up for us, but not for other people.  That's because of a) social graces and b) shame.  With us, they don't have as much shame for being a crazy asshole.  So they act up with us.  It's not personal.  It's just comfort levels.  That's all.  Levels of comfortableness to show off their shameful behavior.  Because who they are at their baseline is the person they show us.  They are irritable, crabby, negative, full of shame, and self-hate, and rage.  That is who they are.  And their feelings are so intense that they take it out on us.  I am not saying to pity them.  But I am saying that we don't need to take it personally.  

Easier said than done, but if you can keep that mantra in your mind at all times with them, that they cannot give what they do not have, and their "best" is not real, which is why they can only give that to strangers they'd feel ashamed of showing their real selves to, then maybe we can begin to accept their behavior is not personal to us, and never has been.  

And if it's not personal, we can stop taking offense and just live our lives, without letting them bother us.  Again, easier said than done and again, I am saying to myself just as much as I am saying this to you.  But it's an idea worth exploring.  

So check out that book, "Mother Hunger" by Kelly McDaniel (though the forward is annoying to me--but I haven't read the whole book yet-though I will this week and give a review on it).  From what I can tell, it's about getting over your mother's abuse, though I could be wrong...we'll see.  

This picture below is what I have to do to get my mother, THE DIABETIC, to stop drinking sugar soda.  She refuses to drink diet soda, because she says it all tastes like "prune juice" (and prunes are good, so what she is talking about?).  But, and here is the funny part, she cannot taste most things or smell them.  So, um, what is she even talking about?  It's a mind over matter thing.  It's all in her head.  So I bought her her favorite soda, which is A&W, and got "zero sugar" instead of regular diet, which tastes so much better.  And we, my kids and I, ripped off all the bottom sections of the bottle labels so she can't see the "zero sugar" label.  I am going to tell her that they were sold cheaper since the labels were damaged at the store.  HA!  And honestly, I do not know how this will go, esp. since my son will probably blab to her that it's diet, but we'll see.  Maybe he won't? LOL  

If not, I'll drink it, because it's fucking delicious.  So it's a win-win, no matter what. 

This is the lengths we go to in order to keep my idiot mother safe from her own stupid choices.  Sigh. 

When you have a parent with NPD and dementia, you honestly can't always tell the difference.  I guess it's more of a judgement call, than anything, and it depends on how much it matters or not.  Small, stupid non-truths aren't much of a big deal, but they do add up over time (and they get exhausting).  But the bigger non-truths need to be dealt with, especially if they are negative things being said to others about you.  And how you deal with it depends on the situation.  If you are low-contact, you don't need to deal with it at all.  If it's something that can affect your life, then you need to deal with it at whatever end it's doing the most damage.  

Mostly, I deal with the small, stupid non-truths.  I could, and most likely should, say they are caused by dementia.  But at the same time, she's always done this.  Told little white lies about the past that just aren't true.  She thinks her memory is top-notch and has gaslight me into believing her several times, where I am questioning my own memory.  But now, after dealing with it head on for the past year and a half, I can clearly see that about 98% (my own estimate) of what comes out of her mouth is an non-truth.  Even when she argues until she's blue in the face about it.  I used to think her adamancy towards her truth meant she was right.  Now I know it's a narcissistic tactic meant to undermine me (or others) into believing whatever crap she's saying.  

We recently had a huge sewer line back up into the house and had to have both bathrooms gutted (which they are still are as of this writing).  And mother went on and on about how when our basement was flooded when I was a teenager, how the insurance paid to have the entire basement fixed and how they put a new floor in and blah blah blah.  And I looked at her and said "No they didn't ma, they didn't fix anything at all.  It was my bedroom and I had a concrete floor after that.  I had nothing replaced, and nothing was fixed.  But you guys still got the insurance money."  She said "Oh yeah, that must be because it wasn't a sewage leak."  I just shook my head and left it alone, because that sentence made no sense.  Getting my floor replaced, or any of my stuff or even getting a new bed (the pipe burst right over my bed and ruining it) had nothing to do with sewage water.  It was the fact that my parents took all the money to spend on themselves, and I got nothing.  But I wasn't going to say that to her, because there is no reason now to even care about it.  But still, she likes to make up complete lies about the past, and remember things that totally didn't happen, all because it sounds good in her mind.  And she's done that since I've been a child.  

But again, confusion or lies, when it comes to stupid little non-truths like that, what does it matter?  I just correct her and move on.  Sometimes I don't even correct her, because it doesn't matter (though I do usually, because I have aspergers and I don't really like people speaking non-truths when I know they are wrong).  Though I normally do it in a polite way, so I don't spark an argument with her.

Except when she's being stupid and/or bossy.  

Like earlier this year, when she was throwing a fit about planting, telling me I wasn't allowing her to plant anywhere in the yard, and I said "You get every single part of the yard in the back and the front, ma.  You're being ridiculous.  I am the one who's not allowed to plant anything.  Last year, you didn't even let me plant my own food plants in the garden.  You even got angry with me for planting my lilac bushes last year, because you wanted to plant something where I planted them.  You told me that I should have told you that I was planting them, because now you can't plant anything there."  And she literally screamed in a rage, while stomping her feet (I am serious, she stomps her feet when she wants to really make you believe in her anger) "I DID NOT!!"  And I knew it was true, because it had been less than a year since it happened.  And all of a sudden, I realized, when she is adamant about her "truth" she's screaming at you, she's still lying.  She's just trying to push you hard enough to make you shut up.  But I didn't.  And I replied "You did, too, ma.  Stop trying to make believe something you can't remember correctly.  You're the one with dementia here, not me."  Yes.  When she's being utterly ridiculous about lying, I do throw that at her.  But in a joking way.  Even though I actually mean it.  I am not trying to be mean in these instances, but I don't run around in my life thinking I am always right.  If fact, I am usually the first person in a conversation to back off if someone else thinks they are right.  Even if I know I am right.  But I am so sick of that.  Sick of letting the know-it-alls and narcissists of the world pretend they know everything when they just don't.  It makes you feel small, to always be told you're wrong.  But so much of the time I am not wrong.  And I say nothing.  So now I don't back down anymore, if I know I am right about something.  It's not about it being important to be right.  It's about the fact that's it important to not always back down to others.  To show yourself that your words are worth standing up for.  Not every single time.  But more than never doing it at all.  So sometimes, I jokingly remind my mother she has dementia when I need to.  She laughs, which lightens the mood in our conversation (but not always).  Sometimes she needs to remember that her memory is not always right.  And it also helps her not to feel stupid for mixing things up like she does.

She the replied to my comment with some off-the-wall explanation that made zero sense as to why I was wrong, and I just rolled my eyes at her and said "Whatever you say.  Even though you're wrong."  And I walked away, leaving her to fume by herself.  

I didn't have to add in the last part, but I cannot stand having her always believe she's right.  I mean, if I didn't live with her, it'd be so much easier to not give two squats.  But dealing with her every single day, day in and day out, it really wears on a person's nerves.  And so I get my relief by never letting her think I believe her bullshit when she's blatantly wrong.  I don't argue with her.  I just acknowledge the truth and leave it at that.  I don't argue.  I just say my peace and either don't answer her or move onto some other topic of conversation.  Because it does no good to argue with someone who is wrong.  

Which is why I never understood why atheists and Christians ever have debates (like Bill Nye and Ken Hamm).  You can't argue against something you don't believe in.  Which is why I never do, even though Christians try to goad me into debates all the time (even strangers!).  Granted, things that happened that you can remember is a very different subject than non-belief vs. belief.  As the first is a usually a truth vs. non-truth (though sometimes we can remember things wrong).  And belief isn't really about truth, as much as it's about belief.  But still.  If both sides think they're right, then move on and let both sides think what they want.  There is no use in debating or arguing about it.  

Which is how I feel about most conversations with narcissists.  What is the use in falling prey to their games?  Why let them get you into a debate over something when you can't express yourself because they most likely won't let you?  So just walk away.  For as much as I say I don't let her get away with lying to me, I normally don't even engage about the rest of it.  I just say "Okay, mom.  I'll look into that."  Or "That sounds cool."  Later, she usually forgets she bothered me about something.  I do correct her lies, but just in case she's confused due to dementia, I do it nicely, because I honestly can't tell anymore.  But more often than lying to me, she's trying to pull me into her drama about something she wants me to do that doesn't make sense to do, and I just say "Okay, that sounds good."  Or "I'll look into that later."  Like this bathroom thing.  I don't know how much repairs will be.  And I said if they are too much, I'll do it myself.  And now she's having a fit about it.  It's not her money.  And nothing of hers got broken.  So I don't know why she thinks she needs to involve herself in the decision making.  But instead of saying that, I say "Oh, we'll see."  And "I'll have to see how expensive it will get."  And so forth.  It's not working too well, but she does keep quiet for a little bit about it.  

The entire point of this post is to ask, how do you know if your aging narcissist with dementia is lying or confused?  And the answer is that it just doesn't matter.  If they are wrong, they are wrong. 

I know how hard it is to feel like you're always being lied to.  Because we have been lied to, for our entire lives.  So I get that feeling of  "ARRRRGGHGHHHH!  They are lying again!!  Will they ever stop???"  But there comes a point when you have to learn to say "It's okay if they are lying, because it doesn't matter anymore.  I look at them with pity, as an old, feeble, human being who doesn't have much time left.  One day, sooner as opposed to later, they will not be here anymore, and I will be left to deal with what they left behind.  So right now, I am going to concentrate on the truth, and my mental wellbeing, over caring if they are still lying to me or not.  Because by caring if they are lying to me, they win.  And I am sick of losing."  

Their entire existence is wrapped up in bothering and hurting others.  So stop letting them win.  And just know you're right and let that be enough and walk away.  You will mentally and emotionally be so much better off for it.  

Know that I am also reminding myself of this as much as I am telling you this, too.  I need to just let it all go, all that negative behavior of hers.  I do, for the most part, but sometimes I still get hung up on stuff, due to being triggered from childhood.  Something I have been working on lately and doing a lot better at.  

I am getting some shadow work and IFS workbooks and the such and I'll be posting some exercises here on the blog, that I hope you join me in doing, as well.  Until then.