Documenting my journey through the mental health system

I’ve been visiting my mother at my house daily after work. Subtly stressing how time is rushing by and my move in is fast approaching. We drink a few mimosas. Sometimes I order some breakfast. She looks like hell.

So much smoking and drinking. She doesn’t attend to hygiene well, making excuses about being forced to work so much and being too tired/in pain to take a shower. She did color her hair.

There is little I can do. I wish she would change. I wish she would help herself. I wish she wasn’t in pain and didn’t have gastroparesis and didn’t abandon her social life.

I’ve worked my ass off in therapy to prepare for living with her again. She is an emotional vampire and will be very draining. I learned how to “fill my cup” (how cringe) when it is being drained daily. I spent a lot of time practicing mastery over my environment and how I will translate that to living with her, as she is very controlling. I spent time fostering my social life, something hard for me to do as I tend to isolate. I’ve forced myself to do things and get out of the house even when I don’t feel like it, just for the sake of my shitty mental health. I can’t get her to do anything for herself, I know all I can do is maintain my own self, but it will be hard. Everyone says this is going to be bad. Bad for my mental health, my physical health. I get that, but I really don’t have a choice. I really don’t. It’s my house, I can’t just leave her alone forever. Our investments/interests are intertwined – she built a 12,000 dollar she-shed to house standards on the property, with a bridge connecting it to my wrap around porch. It made my property value skyrocket. She can’t leave me any more than I can leave her. It’s very complicated. My brothers have the luxury of going no contact, or low contact. My brother Sam says I should move far away.

I don’t dread moving home as much as I thought I would. I spent a lot of time working so hard in therapy and mentally preparing for this for six months, nearly a year now. I spent months remodeling and updating, despite my mother’s deep resentment. For better or for worse, she is my responsibility.

Tomorrow after work I’m trying to get her out of the house. I want to try to help her, even when I know there’s no helping her. I’m trying to take her to breakfast for three days now.

I’m using all the tricks and applying all the therapeutic skills in DBT to get through this and start grad school. One thing I do is try to be grateful. In the context of my work, where I see the human body ravaged and sick, I am grateful for a relatively healthy, strong body. I can walk and see and hear. Even when I had Covid (twice) I had only a runny nose the first time and no symptoms at all the second time.

I’m trying to be grateful for the things I have. I own property, I make decent money at work, and I have my 100% from the VA. That is the ultimate lifeline and lifesaver, the VA keeps me alive and I’m so grateful to them for that. Grateful for healthcare, and not having to worry about acquiring healthcare.

There are a lot of other things in which I consciously take stock – my small but robust social circle, my aptitude for learning and intelligence, my access to and completion of intensive outpatient DBT therapy. Things have been much worse in the past. Much worse. I wish my father was alive.