My local Dementia support has suggested I come here to offload so eventually, I've mustered up the courage to put pen to paper so to speak.
Since my father passed away in November 2015 I've been helping out with Mum. She was showing signs of dementia back then and every few months I would talk to her about talking to the GP about going to the memory clinic so she could start on medication and we could get help for her. She eventually talked to the GP about it last October. Obviously, 5 years down the line, she has deteriorated and has no memory of talking to her GP and all the following test and appointment are now my doing and my 'fault'.
In these 5 years, I've made sure that she was fed and exercised and that her mental and emotional welllbeing looked after and did a quick lick in the bathrooms or hoovered if things looked a bit rough but had to do this without her knowing otherwise she'd become angry.
In 2018 I was diagnosed with breast cancer having been to the hospital 3 years previously with the lump significantly smaller. I'd been living with cancer during that time and looking back was struggling with my day to day activity quite significantly. Sadly nobody noticed, and being a single parent, I just plodded on. During my treatment, I'm sad to say that my family showed very little compassion and even less support, being the single parent and therefore a black sheep in a family of never divorcing among I'm sure many other implied reasons, I obviously didn't deserve either support or compassion. Apparently this is not uncommon for people going through cancer treatment. But since I'm the black sheep and sadly regularly treated as something they've found at the bottom of their shoes, my care of my mother was unrecognized, insignificant and of no value. Roll on a few weeks into treatment and I'm barely able to care for myself and my little girl let alone my Mum. My brother who has inherited the family home and family business, who had booted my parents out of their living room before my father had even passed away to create an office for himself, was there every single day, especially to sit at the family table expecting his lunch from his Mum. My sister, who lives an hour away visited once a week. My Mum started to loose weight and within a few months, there were complaints from my brother that she and her house looked a mess and that I should do something about it. I was suffering from the after effects of the cancer treatment and I was told by my brother that 'people who go through cancer do complaint a lot don't they', which gives you an idea of what I'm dealing with and why he thought that I should be looking after our mother single handed. To give you an idea of the relationship I have with my Mum, after my second operation, I collapsed in pain while she was in my home, she stepped over me, turn to smile at me and told me, 'I'm going to make a cup of tea for the men' and walked out leaving me on the floor on my own in the house with my 5 yr old daughter. I could go on about family dynamics but I think you get the just of it.
Fast forward to the last few months, now that the process of the memory clinic and all that goes with that ball rolling, my siblings seem to now recognise how much care Mum needs and because outside agencies are in the process of being involved and all of a sudden want to really be involved in her care and that we should all be communicating about the appointments that I'm taking care of and managing. Maybe there's guilt or maybe compassion has eventually kicked in, whatever it is, it's very much welcomed. What isn't welcomed is this sense from my brother that it's completely acceptable and normal to bark commands at me as if I'm a member of his staff. I understand that it may be difficult living in a small community and having such a large number of staff and family members working for you that you become unaccustomed to not having people say 'how high' when you bark 'jump' at them. I also understand that when you've spent your life throwing your rattle when you didn't get your own way and having your Mum pander to your every need is a difficult pattern to come out of and that signing up your eldest sister to step into that short stringed mother role is an easy option. That stepping into whatever role available for the elder sister is inviting when they've spent their life so blatantly and unapologetically unloved by their own mother even if that role is to enable the other sibling to continue their derision and bully tactics on me. After verbal attacks from my brother, I've been specifically told that I'm not to talk to anyone else about his behaviour. It's become unbearable, hence me, sitting here, on a barely working laptop blurting this out to complete strangers. I feel sick. I feel that I have to rescind my acceptance of my nieces wedding in April, which I would love to celebrate with her but can not face being in a the same room as what I feel are a pack of hyenas.
I understand that over the year, my mother has hated the idea that as siblings, that we would love each other more than we'd love her and has done her upmost to play us against each other, always making either my sister or I to be the villain in whatever situation. After 50 years of that, how on earth are we meant to all of a sudden be able to function as a loving and supportive family to be able to offer Mum the best possible care? It is only last summer when I spoke honestly with my sister that she realised that I was aware of how awfully she and her daughters had been treated by our mother. Healing is starting between us, but for the little boy who is now in his late 50, the little boy who could do no wrong, there is nothing that needs healing, he knows what needs doing and the unmarried sister should be doing all the caring, the housework, the hairwashing. Apparently, according to him, we don't need carers in to help, 'we', don't need help. It was the same when my father was dying of cancer, Macmillan were calling the house regularly and my Mum would put the phone down on them, because, 'we' didn't need help. Help is for 'other' people, those people who can't cope with life, those people who aren't capable of providing for themselves, those people who are failures in life. Well, I'm one of those people, I need help, I need support, I don't have an adult by my side to cuddle me at the end of the day and tell me that they love me, or tell me to put my feet up while they hand me a piece of cake and a cuppa.
They're not particularly awful individuals, it's just their behavioural patterns that are awful and hurtful and mean. She's never been the greatest Mum in the world and most of my friends are aghast that I have anything to do with her, but you know what, she's the only mother I have.
Having got all the way to the end of this outpouring. Thank you. Thank you for letting me be heard.
Since my father passed away in November 2015 I've been helping out with Mum. She was showing signs of dementia back then and every few months I would talk to her about talking to the GP about going to the memory clinic so she could start on medication and we could get help for her. She eventually talked to the GP about it last October. Obviously, 5 years down the line, she has deteriorated and has no memory of talking to her GP and all the following test and appointment are now my doing and my 'fault'.
In these 5 years, I've made sure that she was fed and exercised and that her mental and emotional welllbeing looked after and did a quick lick in the bathrooms or hoovered if things looked a bit rough but had to do this without her knowing otherwise she'd become angry.
In 2018 I was diagnosed with breast cancer having been to the hospital 3 years previously with the lump significantly smaller. I'd been living with cancer during that time and looking back was struggling with my day to day activity quite significantly. Sadly nobody noticed, and being a single parent, I just plodded on. During my treatment, I'm sad to say that my family showed very little compassion and even less support, being the single parent and therefore a black sheep in a family of never divorcing among I'm sure many other implied reasons, I obviously didn't deserve either support or compassion. Apparently this is not uncommon for people going through cancer treatment. But since I'm the black sheep and sadly regularly treated as something they've found at the bottom of their shoes, my care of my mother was unrecognized, insignificant and of no value. Roll on a few weeks into treatment and I'm barely able to care for myself and my little girl let alone my Mum. My brother who has inherited the family home and family business, who had booted my parents out of their living room before my father had even passed away to create an office for himself, was there every single day, especially to sit at the family table expecting his lunch from his Mum. My sister, who lives an hour away visited once a week. My Mum started to loose weight and within a few months, there were complaints from my brother that she and her house looked a mess and that I should do something about it. I was suffering from the after effects of the cancer treatment and I was told by my brother that 'people who go through cancer do complaint a lot don't they', which gives you an idea of what I'm dealing with and why he thought that I should be looking after our mother single handed. To give you an idea of the relationship I have with my Mum, after my second operation, I collapsed in pain while she was in my home, she stepped over me, turn to smile at me and told me, 'I'm going to make a cup of tea for the men' and walked out leaving me on the floor on my own in the house with my 5 yr old daughter. I could go on about family dynamics but I think you get the just of it.
Fast forward to the last few months, now that the process of the memory clinic and all that goes with that ball rolling, my siblings seem to now recognise how much care Mum needs and because outside agencies are in the process of being involved and all of a sudden want to really be involved in her care and that we should all be communicating about the appointments that I'm taking care of and managing. Maybe there's guilt or maybe compassion has eventually kicked in, whatever it is, it's very much welcomed. What isn't welcomed is this sense from my brother that it's completely acceptable and normal to bark commands at me as if I'm a member of his staff. I understand that it may be difficult living in a small community and having such a large number of staff and family members working for you that you become unaccustomed to not having people say 'how high' when you bark 'jump' at them. I also understand that when you've spent your life throwing your rattle when you didn't get your own way and having your Mum pander to your every need is a difficult pattern to come out of and that signing up your eldest sister to step into that short stringed mother role is an easy option. That stepping into whatever role available for the elder sister is inviting when they've spent their life so blatantly and unapologetically unloved by their own mother even if that role is to enable the other sibling to continue their derision and bully tactics on me. After verbal attacks from my brother, I've been specifically told that I'm not to talk to anyone else about his behaviour. It's become unbearable, hence me, sitting here, on a barely working laptop blurting this out to complete strangers. I feel sick. I feel that I have to rescind my acceptance of my nieces wedding in April, which I would love to celebrate with her but can not face being in a the same room as what I feel are a pack of hyenas.
I understand that over the year, my mother has hated the idea that as siblings, that we would love each other more than we'd love her and has done her upmost to play us against each other, always making either my sister or I to be the villain in whatever situation. After 50 years of that, how on earth are we meant to all of a sudden be able to function as a loving and supportive family to be able to offer Mum the best possible care? It is only last summer when I spoke honestly with my sister that she realised that I was aware of how awfully she and her daughters had been treated by our mother. Healing is starting between us, but for the little boy who is now in his late 50, the little boy who could do no wrong, there is nothing that needs healing, he knows what needs doing and the unmarried sister should be doing all the caring, the housework, the hairwashing. Apparently, according to him, we don't need carers in to help, 'we', don't need help. It was the same when my father was dying of cancer, Macmillan were calling the house regularly and my Mum would put the phone down on them, because, 'we' didn't need help. Help is for 'other' people, those people who can't cope with life, those people who aren't capable of providing for themselves, those people who are failures in life. Well, I'm one of those people, I need help, I need support, I don't have an adult by my side to cuddle me at the end of the day and tell me that they love me, or tell me to put my feet up while they hand me a piece of cake and a cuppa.
They're not particularly awful individuals, it's just their behavioural patterns that are awful and hurtful and mean. She's never been the greatest Mum in the world and most of my friends are aghast that I have anything to do with her, but you know what, she's the only mother I have.
Having got all the way to the end of this outpouring. Thank you. Thank you for letting me be heard.
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That might make him think he should get someone in to do it "properly" next time.......
