Three weeks ago my mother's mental state deteriorated to the point where I was terrified to leave her alone (I work full time). Amongst other things, she accused me of starving her. She said she would tell "the authorities you have been abusing me". She accused me of stealing the sheets on her bed, her credit card - the list is endless. She became absolutely paranoid that the woman next door was spying/plotting against her. She upended everything in her bedroom drawers (and mine) and threw the contents into the middle of the room and then accused me of doing it and "trying to drive me mad". She started wandering around at night looking for her bedroom, touching all the doors in the house and asking me if they were the same. Most alarmingly she locked me out on two occasions and left her electric blanket on full (I think all day - certainly it was so hot when I got home that night I was only grateful it hadn't started a fire). She is 88 years old and a mere six stone but she was so aggressive towards me that I confess that I was afraid of her - me a strapping 51 year old! I was at my wit's end and only thanks to the intervention of her doctor and the community nurse (and a lovely lady from the Alzheimer's Society) were we able to get her into a secure unit for a full assessment. She is settled now and on medication but the first week was a nightmare; she climbed up on a windowsill, threw all her clothes in the shower and claimed she'd been raped. So, now that she is safe why do I feel such immense guilt? Logic and commonsense tells me I couldn't have done anything else because she was a danger to herself, yet still this awful feeling that I have somehow "betrayed" her persists.