Well it's been a hot minute since I last posted on here. Many things have been going on, mostly stressful in some way, shape, or form, which is why I haven't been posting. There have been some non-stressful things, too, so that's good, right?
Let's start with my mother. She's been going downhill for awhile now. We're waiting to get into the doctor's office to re-up her meds back to where they were. They lowered her antidepressants a few months ago and she's felt like crap ever since. This has kept her locked in a state of not wanting to do anything. If feel bad for her. Yes, she's abusive when she has all her faculties, but I still don't want her sitting around feeling bad for no reason.
I will say recently she pulled that whole "I made up a story in my head and now I act like it's factually true" thing. We were talking about her cat and my dog, and recently my dog had tried to attack her cat again. If you haven't read about this before, my mom's cat brutally attacked my dog once, many years ago (and for no reason...her cat used to chase him around the yard to beat him up and once actually got him) and my dog has held a grudge ever since. He LOOOOOVES all cats, but not that one. And if he sees or smells him, he will go on a rampage to get him. Well...my mother stupidly left her bedroom door shut with the cat in the kitchen and my dog came in to go outside and saw my mom's cat and gave chase. He pushed him into my mom's door and held him there...my husband yelled at the dog, and the dog came to my husband then went outside. My husband inspected the cat and the only thing on him was dog slobber. My dog didn't even try to bite him.
So I brought it up to my mom "It's good to know that the dog doesn't actually want to bite your cat, he's just bullying him." And my mom said "Well, he bit him before." I looked her straight in the eyes and said "My dog has never once bit your cat, what are you talking about? He doesn't bite cats." She raised her voice and actually yelled at me and said "YES. HE. DID! Remember when the cat had that huge gash in his stomach?" I sighed and replied "Your cat was missing for three days, he used to pretend to live with the feral cat colony next door, remember? He wasn't locked in anyone's garage, he was choosing to live with those cats. Well, he came home one day with that gash in his stomach and refused to leave your room for two years." She got all huffy and said "He refused to leave my room because he was scared OF YOUR DOG! The cat tried to climb the fence and your dog pulled him and bit his stomach!" I just stared at her. This was something she completely made up in her head, because it never happened. Yes, my dog would chase him as he'd run from the yard and the cat would climb the fence to get away from him (mind you, this was after the cat had attacked him). But he never once bit him. Had he actually had done that? It would have been a BIG deal and we may not have kept the dog. I would never keep a dog that would attack cats in such a way, as long as we had cats in our home. Granted, again, the cat would have deserved it, as the cat had ripped up my dog's face before (and had the cat not stopped and kept on attacking him? we would have found the cat a new home, also), but still. That's not safe.
I never raised my voice back, but I would not back down. The truth is the truth. "No, that did not happen. Your cat came home with that gash. We all talked about what could have bitten him, like coyotes or a raccoon or another cat. None of us knew what had hurt him, but knowing your cat, he probably started it. Whatever attacked him made him so scared and stopped him from attacking my dog anymore, and stopped him from beating up all the other cats, too. He became fearful of everything. We talked about this numerous times and never once was the idea of my dog biting him brought up. So, you are making that up and now you believe it, but it didn't happen."
This is how I know her new story of how my cat died in her arms isn't true, too. I had cat named Dobby (who had a brother named Harry). The story of Dobby's death, for probably over ten years now, went like this: Dobby lived with my mother (as we lived a block away on a very, very busy street). Dobby had FIV. Dobby got sick, ran away to the basement, and my mother found him dead in the cat litter. The End.
Now, all of a sudden, like within the past month or so, Dobby has a new death story. In this incredible story, my mother found Dobby dying in the cat litter, she brought him upstairs, and let him look out the window one last time, and he then dropped his head and died in her arms. The End. But that is NOT what happened. I wasn't there, so I can't 100% say, but my mother has a tendency to make up stories and 100% believe them. She's done this her whole life, so it's not a dementia thing. It's a sociopathic narcissist thing. Or really, it's a human thing, as a LOT of people do this (though maybe not to this degree of made up-ness), but my mom's inability to listen when you tell her she's wrong is the narcissistic part. My hubby remembers things wrong all the time, as do I (we both have ADHD), but when someone tells us we're wrong, we stop and think "Hmmm, could I be wrong right now?" And then we remember that we are. But we don't make up things, we just get mixed-up. My mom straight up invents stories and then becomes convinced they are true. I haven't corrected her yet on this, but I will the next time she brings it up. Why? Because I don't like lies. Especially not from her.
I am not mean about proving my points. Not at all. I am just matter-of-fact. Too many times she's tried to rewrite history in favor of her, usually against me in some way (though not anymore, now it's just random weird things to lie about), so it's triggering to hear her lying. Her accusing my dog of attacking her cat (and my dog would have had to RIP into this cat's belly, which another reason this is absurd, as he looooves kitty cats) is really against me. Anything that has to do with me, she attacks it. She always has and always will. But that's okay. I am armed with facts, which is something she knows nothing about.
Then we have issues with one of our children. His meds were creating these horrible mood swings that was causing chaos in our home. I don't know 100% yet, but they seem to be evening out and he's doing amazingly well. But I just hope it lasts.
Then we have my ex-therapist who tried to get my website taken down. What is my website? Well, reviews of all my pasts therapists. And she did NOT like hers at all. So she reported it and they removed it. So I reposted it with much less wording and so far, they haven't said anything. BUT they keep looking at my site every single day (sometimes her, sometimes the people who own the site I use) and I am not sure how much longer it will be kept up. So, I am moving it to my own hosting and unless it's illegal, nobody can say shit. OH and that batshit crazy woman also found me on Facebook and reported my posts for "talk of suicide", which is weird, because obviously none of my posts have that, so why would they just take this person's word for it? Yeah, it's BS.
We're gearing up for a yard sale. We have so much to do, and I also have to call a plumber to have some work done, which I will do today. Also I've been writing a lot, and my new book will be coming out soon. I've been lazy AF formatting it, but I will do it, hopefully this week. I've been also working on a new/old website that I've been creating for years and the idea behind it I've been working on since around 2010. It's been 15 years and I've FINALLY figured out how all my silly crazy ideas will work together. Being ADHD with a hard time learning how to structure ideas and thoughts sucks. BUT now I finally have done it and I can hopefully be moving onto the next phase of my life. I need to actually push through any issues I have and DO IT because if I don't at least try, I can't ever know if it will take off or not. If I fail, that's okay. At least I tried (and I don't want to give up even if I do fail). But I have to at least try. I've been working too long to just not move forward with this.
My hubby was off from work for an entire year. And his migraines were well under control. But the minute he goes back to work, they come back in full force. As I write this, he's taken the day off and his sleeping next to me with yet another migraine. So, I know the answer to having him live a normal life: I have to become the breadwinner and he needs to be able to just live his life. Having severe anxiety and chronic illness sucks, but I think I can do this. I have to at least try. For him. For us. For my family. For everyone my program will help. I just hope it takes off. And my family will be protected and well-cared for.
And that's all. For now. Despite these two instances of weirdness, my mother is pretty much docile and nice and sweet, all day every day. I am soooooo freaking lucky that her narcissism go better with dementia. My grandmother's did, too. So many out there get worse with it, and so I know how very lucky I am.
Until later.