Held Hostage...Six Months Later...

[Guest guest]

*LOL* As you can see, tonight is not a very good night for me.

For six months, I've been living with my parents, helping my dad take care of my

mother, who has LBD. She was originally diagnosed with all sorts of incorrect

diagnoses, but finally in January, 2008, was diagnosed correctly. She had been

medicated and treated for Parkinson's (although I tried time and again to tell

everyone that antidepressants caused her to have parkinsonism), depression

(again, let's throw some more antidepressants at her), anxiety (let's give her

yet another " magic pill " ), and on and on. She was on over 20 different meds.

We put her in the hospital for a drug holiday, try to get her off all the stuff

she was on. At that same time, we got a new neurologist, who is a

neuropsychiatrist as well. He gave us the correct diagnosis.

The meds are all in order now, she's definitely in the latter stages of LBD, Dad

is doing...well...okay. We have hospice back (after one hospice kicking us off

because she wasn't " declining rapidly enough " for them).

I'm worn out.

I was never a candidate for sainthood. I never WANTED to be a saint. However,

my two surviving siblings are not willing to do a thing to help out. I'm

working five days a week teaching middle school kids, coming straight home,

cooking, cleaning, toileting...

And hiding out in my tiny, cramped bedroom as much as possible.

My fiance (for whom I am so very very grateful) works out of the country 90% of

the time, in the office out of state about 8% of the time, and so I get about 2%

of his time for us to be together for the next almost-two years...until he can

financially handle leaving his job.

When he's in town, we try to get away, but we can't even leave the city because

NO ONE ELSE WILL SEE AFTER MOM AND DAD. And Dad, retired Baptist minister, will

not hear of him staying here with me. I guess even at my age, he's got the idea

that " protecting my virtue " is his job....grrrrrr....

So when my love is here, we have to get a hotel close enough to get here within

10 minutes just in case Dad decides he can't handle things on his own, or can't

(even while the caregiver is here) go pick up a gallon of milk.

And then I have to hear scriptures quoted at me and smart-ass remarks about our

sex life...even after telling Dad that it's really none of his business.

I can't go anywhere at night, can't do anything, and all that's left for me to

do is either stay in my room on the computer (always with an ear out for

trouble), sit on the front porch (and Dad always comes out to sit with me, which

means that I need to keep jumping up and down to check on Mom), or sit in the

living room with them which is always about 78-80 degrees with NO TELEVISION

ALLOWED because it upsets Mom.

They want to know every move I make in the house. If I walk through the living

room, Mom starts asking me where I'm going. If I have my purse, she demands to

look through it (demands denied) because she thinks I'm stealing from them.

Dad refuses to even consider a nursing home for Mom, even though the doctor told

him in July that was the only reasonable option at this point. He would rather

see me work myself into ill health or a breakdown or something...I have no

value. I'm simply the unpaid cook and caregiver.

I've had to give up church, give up everything that I ever enjoyed, and here I

sit night after night.

I don't know that I can continue in this mode for much longer. I've tried to

talk to my siblings about it...even about one of them taking a weekend every

once in a while...or even an EVENING...and they won't do it. They said " You

made the choice to be there. You handle it. I can't. "

If I try to take a couple of hours and go see my kids, even my little

granddaughter, I have hell to pay in terms of smart-ass remarks and hateful

attitudes from my Dad for 3-4 days.

I'm a hostage, you see.

Hostage to a woman who never loved me until now (when she's trying to hug and

kiss me every time I walk through the living room).

Hostage to a man who never would protect me against my mother's abuse because he

didn't want to draw any fire for himself.

I'm saving my money.

As soon as I have enough to make a downpayment on a home, I'm outta here. It's

someone else's turn to be the saint.