Oh how denial runs deep and how easy it is to slip into a seemly easier path of least resistance by pretending.  Only, it's not like being a child and playing dress up  or being a favorite super-hero.  I often think of the children's book, "The Velveteen Rabbit", when the rabbit asks, "what's real?"  As an adult, each of our every actions weighs responsibility and levies consequences.  I've seen it possible to be adept at ignoring responsibilities; I have been guilty of this, too, when overwhelmed and not accepting life on life's terms.  I've also thought I've seen it possible for some to not experience or accept consequences.  A process of unfairness?  My perceptions are changing and now I'm seeing that consequences can come quietly, camouflage, masquerade as something else, but they come.

For those following my previous posts, my parents were transferred from a hospital into an end stage nursing facility.  (My Dad was admitted to the hospital for aspiration pneumonia (food got into his lung) and Mom fell and hit her head hard.)  

Another nightmare of a day when I went to visit this past Thursday... but this is another story.  While I was there, my Mom, wheelchair bound, chats delightfully on and on about her plans for the property (she is referring to the institution where she and Dad are residents)- and if I or anyone else had any thoughts. (the hook)  I asked her some grounding and orienting questions - did she know where she is? Ummhmmm, was the reply.  I mentioned that sometimes she gets tired from the medicine AND she replied with clarity, "it's not the medicine".  

Oh no!

But yes, to Mom this was another game of manipulation, deceit, and pretend all well-worn devices to bring her attention and make it all about her.  My Uncle was swift in action, narrow-minded, arrogant.  However, it is not my Uncle's responsibility to discern Mom's games.  He thought her incompetent, as she comes across this way.  As a result, he dispersed my parent's entire estate, leaving her with the essentials like underwear, shirts and pants, but no luxuries.  I do not condone his actions.  I do not condone hers.  I don't know that my Uncle will return her wedding rings to her- they were removed from her hand at some point in the process.  My Aunt had previously stated that Mom was wearing them (I don't know why she had a need to make a point to tell me this... curious...).  

My Mom asked me to open her closet and get her purse.  In front of her, I opened the closet and looked and found a black handbag.  I retrieved it from the shelf and handed it to her and helped her unzip it.  It had been completely emptied.  All that was inside was the lining.  I watched as my Mom, in disbelief, kept running her hand along the lining, as she said- "where is my wallet?  Where is the small white box?  They were here.  I am not dead yet."

I don't want to get blamed for anything I didn't do, but I cannot control anyone else.  I know, HP knows, and hopefully my beloved MIP family knows the truth.  Apparently, I am between yet another rock and hard place.  I can see Mom and Dad and this puts me at risk for being a family scapegoat.  I can choose not to see them and be the most horrible daughter in the universe... according to the rules of someone else's fictitious pretend.

I am convinced that it is the disease that whispers the allures and seduction of pretend.  I will not accept hooks to engage in pretend discussion.  This would be different if Mom wasn't capable of knowing where she's at, but she knows and is pretending.  Pretending has her in a situation where my Uncle calls all of the shots and dictates what she'll wear and when.  My Mom started crying when she realized that her belongings were not respected and there is absolutely nothing she can do if my Uncle doesn't want to respect her wishes.  This is how my Uncle and Aunt have always been.  When they gave her attention for her pretend games, she grew to want more attention, and it became a harmful game of pretend, where Mom pretended her control of her life away.

She is safe.  She is receiving medical care when needed.  She is being fed well.  She can fade in and out with pretending as much as she likes, and when she becomes agitated with the truth, the home has instructions to sedate her.

Nothing I can do.  I can only offer the love inside my heart.  I can only be grateful for the moments as each one passes.  I can only do my best to take care of myself.  All my life, my family looked towards me to fix, blend, disappear, and generate money for them.  In hindsight, they had a one-woman sweat shop- not too bad for them!  And when I stopped and had little left, they discarded me like an old, worn-out shoe with dog dirt on it.  Maybe they were initially right that  I do have something special- honestly, loyalty, love, and my inner light that is allowed to shine brightly again after a very long "power-outage".  This is my inner power, plugged in to my HP.  With the exception of my Dad, my family doesn't like to see me this way.  They try hard to knock and pin me down, hurt me, insisting that I am ugly, useless, and worthless.. despite my education, degrees, and blessings with inner and outer beauty. 

Sometimes it feels like living in the truth is pretend because I'm living in my truth alone with my HP and the rest of my family seem to all understand the universe differently.  They understand and practice greed, selfishness, narrow-mindedness, and more.  My not catering to this makes me "selfish" in their eyes.  Maybe it's a mirror of convenience that they project their own reflection onto others, and then point and judge.

I remember pretend.  It came in the form of wishful thinking because I wanted to force my will that badly.  I am now able to appreciate "what is".  I am so grateful for Alanon and for MIP to support me on a journey for something much better than what I thought I had.  

Thank you for being here and for listening.

-- Edited by bud on Saturday 1st of March 2014 11:12:24 AM