and time keeps marching on

Today was a rough day morning-wise. I really didn't want to get out of bed, but I know I can't put my job in jeopardy, so I just forced myself out and went to work.

I spoke with a therapist who agreed to meet with me tonight, and I spoke with the social workers who met with my mother. They agreed to bring a psychiatrist out next time to speak with her again, and they're becoming more open to having her hospitalized.

I know these are all steps toward a conclusion, but I just feel like everything is so hopeless for me right now. I don't see my life going anywhere but down. So many dark thoughts.

I decided not to renew my lease which will eventually make my mother homeless. This way I can get her into a facility where she can get the help she needs. There's no other way. I've decided to start preparing by getting rid of as much of my stuff as I possibly can. That way I'll be freer to move when the time comes.

I really hope this therapist can help me.

I want to talk about my boyfriend and how much I don't see this relationship progressing, but it makes me to sad.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop

She went to my freaking high school. That crazy woman went to my high school (hint, it's prestigious and very well known, and they love to gossip there.). She spoke to the priest on staff, and told him I'm disturbed with a drug problem and I'm trying to kill her. Literally. She went and did this. I knew I'd be rocking the boat when I began to search aggressively for housing and care for her, but I had no idea she'd actually do this.

If she goes near my office, I'm so dead. If they don't fire me, my reputation there will be ruined forever. If they do fire me, obviously I'll be out of a job with no insurance to cover the therapy I so obviously need.

Meanwhile, while my boyfriend is supportive via text and email, he's not exactly standing by my side right now. While I know it's a lot to ask...I don't know what I expect from him. Let's just say I feel more like a burden than a trusted companion.

Meanwhile, the therapists are coming this afternoon to speak with her again. I don't see that going well either. I have my first session tomorrow, and I can only hope it helps me cope.

I don't even feel like I'm truly alive right now.

Dealing with frustration

As I wait for all of the therapists I called to get back to me, I have to focus on some short term methods to stay calm and not lose my temper on my mother anymore. It's incredibly difficult when someone is screaming at you constantly to calm down, but I realize that getting her riled is only making my life harder in the mean time.

As much as I want to yell and scream and pull my hair out when she goes on one of her rants, I have to remember that it's not a rant, it's a manic episode, and it's better for me not to get screamed at.

Tonight I think I'm too weak to go to the gym, but I can certainly walk home and listen to music and just chill out, and when I get home, I can lock myself in my room and plug in my radio.

I think it will be really therapeutic for me to go through my closet and start separating things that I want to donate to charity and my old junk that I will try and sell on craigslist. It's a first step.

Meanwhile, my friend is going out of town for a week next week, and she has very graciously agreed to let me stay in her apartment while I'm gone.

I'm going to watch what I eat and avoid caffeine and alcohol. Both only serve to make me more stressed out.

I must stay calm. As of now it is imperative that I don't flip out which is more difficult than I can ever convey in words.

I can't believe that the people I work with probably have no idea how upset I am. I'm that good at faking it.

Getting Desperate

I took everyone's advice and took part on one of my favorite Halloween activities on Sunday night. I had a great time hanging out with my friends, and it made me realize that I could still have a normal life even if I didn't think so at the time.

Then I got home.

For the next 5 hours my mother continued to bang on my door and scream at me. She told me I was a drug addict and a drunk. She accused me of being manipulative and abusive. She accused me of slandering her name to the public. She told me I was a terrible human being. Basically I can't even remember what else she said. I put in ear plugs and put a pillow over my head, but she kept screaming, and I could still hear her. She spent the night outside my door coughing so that I could hear her. Literally...she was extra loud so that I would hear her and stay awake.

This morning when I crawled out of bed to go to work, I asked her why she did that to me, and she said it was because my job was upsetting me, and she wanted me to get fired.

I wish I was kidding.

I have no idea what to do.

Mornings are still so painful

It's been almost a week since I began to properly acknowledge my mother's illness. I've been using over the counter sleeping pills to get any sleep since natural rest is impossible. I'm still speaking to my "boyfriend," but I don't know where we stand. We had other issues before all of this began. I finally confronted him about these issues last Monday after finding a suspicious email from another girl in his inbox. I believe he didn't physically cheat on me, but it hurt that we was willing to spend his precious time with someone else.

It made me start thinking a lot about my own life mainly because I realized that we haven't had a chance at a real relationship while I've been living with my mom. As long as she was always that main responsibility that I ignored, there was no way he and I were even going to begin a real relationship.

At his core, he's not the most supportive human being, but it's a lot to ask of the best man to help me get through this stuff with her.

So anyway, every morning that I wake up this rushes through my mind. I think about all of the relationships I've missed out on because of her. I think about everything that's delayed because of her. I think about how much needs to happen to improve my world, and I just want to crawl back under the covers and hide.

But I don't. I'm not sure how I'm functioning right now. Pretty much everything I look forward to right now involves sleeping.

Scattered Mind

I've been thinking. I've realized that I've spent years trying to find reasons about why I was unhappy. I've always thought it was weight or money or career, but the truth is the main problem that I have and that I've always had is my mom.

no amazing job, boyfriend, diet or anything else can solve that one nor can it make up for it. This is something I have to deal with this first. I have to just keep going and remember that I have friends who love me.

I guess I always thought things would magically work out.

Nope. It's my job now.

Can you date when your mom is insane?

So here I am again. Yesterday was horrific. Well no, not horrific just intense.

I spoke with the City social workers who interviewed my mom and they aid that she was probably bi-polar AND paranoid and possibly schizophrenic. It's too soon for a real diagnosis. When I got off the call I was really upset. They told me that this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better. Also, in order for her to take advantage of the free housing that he knows of she has to be homeless and she isn't...because of me. It's so upsetting.

I spent a couple hours at my desk freaking out, and I decided that my time would be better spent finding help for me. I need a therapist. Also, I'm terrified that I'm bi-polar. I'm also nervous that this stress will cause me to lose my job. I called around and found a support group for kids with parents like mine. I also got referrals that I'll call on Monday.

This has been such a whirlwind week. It's been kind of awful actually.

my question here is, do I have any right to date anyone while I'm going through this? I need support. I don't have any extra energy to spend wondering if someone cares about me. I don't know if my boyfriend is string enough to get through this with me, and I feel guilty asking him too. The thought of losing him fills me with a physical pain that's kind of amazing to me. I didn't think something that seems as superficial as a breakup could feel so deadly. That being said, I can't force him to be supportive, especially when I realize I need a lot of support right now.

His complaint about our relationship is that we have a compatibility issue and we have trouble talking. Personally I think this is due to the fact that I have nothing light to chat about right now. It's hard for me to talk to anyone. I would have talked to him about it if I thought he cared at all, but I just don't. When I brought this up, I think he disagreed with me, and that made me feel awful.

I have no idea how to interact with people right now, but I don't want to lose him.

Making Progress

So far today the guy from lifeline called me back, and we'll talk tomorrow about options.

My family and friends also made calls on my behalf, and found other numbers to call about her plus therapists. I feel so lucky to know people who care about me.

Meanwhile, I thought a lot about my relationship with my boyfriend(?) today. I have no idea what's going to happen today. I'm starting to fully realize how my mother's condition has always colored how I treat people. Relationships have always been hard for me. I'm either completely attached to someone I'm trying to put into a parental role or I'm cold and unassuming because I'm scared. I yelled at him for not being emotionally open and while that's true to some degree, I've also been expecting more than anyone can give. I also never told him the full truth about how she acted or how I felt about it, and I dragged my feet about finding treatment for so long. It must have been so hard for him. (again not saying everything going on is all my fault, but it's certainly not all his.)

I feel like we never even had a chance.

I wonder if I ever had a chance with anyone? And I'm scared that this will follow me forever.

It'd be great if I could sleep.

Coming out of denial

It's been less than 24 hours since I finally admitted to myself that my mother was mentally ill. I say "crazy," and I'll say "crazy" because it's the truth, but I don't want anyone to ever think there's something derogatory in the way I treat this situation. Mentally ill just takes longer to type.

With the help of my good friend tylenol pm, I slept last night, but waking up groggy is quite difficult.

Last night I called everyone I know who can potentially offer advice. I asked a couple of friends for the name of their therapists because I know that this sort of situation is unhealthy for me. I need counseling. Wow, yet another self-revelation.

Some facts about me:
I'm 27 years old
I sort of have a boyfriend (we're going through some issues right now, and I know that me refusing to acknowledge my mother's situation for the three years we've been dating hasn't helped.)
I have a job
I like to read
I have problems expressing myself.
I spent the last 15 years since my father passed away lying to myself and everyone else about my mother's mental health.

wow.

I'm still new at this, "having a crazy mom" thing, so I'm doing my preliminary research online both to find help for her and help for me.

We live in Manhattan, so I've contacted city services and therapists in the city. I also requested several books about this from my local library.

It doesn't seem like much, but for me every step is a leap.

My mother is mentally ill

Hello,

I'll come right out and admit something that I never admit to my many friends, my boyfriend or most of my family. My mother is crazy. I don't mean crazy in the "eh everyone's mother is crazy" way I mean she's schizophrenic, possibly bi-polar and incredibly paranoid.

Does that mean that I don't love her? Absolutely not. Does that mean that she's a bad person. No way. After my father passed away, she kept me in Manhattan and helped me study and do my homework. Sure some nights she'd be up all night trying to catch the "crazy" people who were coming in at night and stealing her things, but I figured everyone's parents were weird.

In those days, she had a job. She took care of me. She got me to doctor's appointments and she made sure we weren't homeless. Even though it must have been rough, she gave me everything she could, and I'm not starting this to complain or even blame her.

The truth is that she is mentally ill. I've always been too embarrassed to come right out and say it, but she is.

wow. that's a relief.

My purpose with this blog is to help anyone out there who might be going through this know that you are not alone. There's nothing to be ashamed of and most importantly there's help out there for you. I haven't found a perfect solution yet, but I'm not going to lose my entire life to her disease.