Commited

To those who say I have commitment issues, I say not true! I have my Mother committed all the time without even batting an eye!

Today, for the 3rd time in almost 3yrs, my Mom was institutionalized again; 5 days after I "diagnosed" and predicted a breakdown. Even warned a few people so they wouldn't be blind sighted.

This is so much "the norm" in my life that, while emotionally hard and stressful, I'm very aware of the possibility that anything can happen at any time and that time is ticking on the life I lead as well. Maybe that's why I enjoy it so much. It's but a moment and I know it.

I don't really get upset when episodes occur. I just deal with it and move on. There's not much I can do but run ship, stabilize the outside factors, watch over her, be there for, run damage control, and make sure she gets to the hospital when necessary. She gets the treatment she needs and we move on. It's a long process, painful for all and especially stressful for her, but we get through it.

This episode got me though. Which I guess is why I'm blogging about it. I NEVER blog about it. It's really personal, really embarrassing (for her), and really judged. I hate the looks people give me, I hate the sympathy, I hate the "you're so great and normal and brave" bullshit. I hate what it does to her. I hate it all. So while you're reading this, please have the decency and respect to keep it quiet and personal. I'm VERY protective and I know it's not her fault. I also just need to vent, and am giving myself permission to do so.

I'm angry. Really angry. I'm in SoCal for work. My next planned trip to NorCal is for my cousin/BFF's Graduation. However, my bosses randomly gave me the last day of this trip off to either head back to NYC early (I've been out of town for 2 weeks), play in L.A., or whatever. I decided to spend a day at home, since it's only an hour flight away, with my Mom. Just me and her. Nobody else I'd need to see, because nobody would know I was there to be seen. No appointments to go to, no time splitting like all my other trips. Sure I see my Mom whenever I visit, but I'm always on the go. Always sharing my time. Always trying to fit everything and everyone in. Always trying to be sure my Mom gets enough time, but doesn't monopolize. Always feeling guilty that I won't let her monopolize it. I can't remember the last time I had a day with my Mom. I must've been really little because as far back as grade school I still can't find a day.
I can't remember the last time I just had a Mom, and didn't have to be hers.

Saturday was going to be that day. Yet even when I called to surprise her, we both knew it wasn't going to happen that way. She knew she was fading. I knew she was fading. She even joked, "Gee I hope you don't have to take me to the hospital when you come!" With me retorting, "Yeah. Tell your head it's got 12hrs to pull it together cause my flight leaves at 7:15!"

Her head didn't listen. And it got more than 12hrs. It gets a whole week. Maybe more. And I get visitation, and more Institution Arts & Crafts souvenirs. For my 8th birthday I got a napkin holder. It still sits on our kitchen table. My last birthday came complete with a beautiful drawing. Nothing says Happy Birthday like Loony-Stationary with a hint of crazy permanently scented in. Luckily this is all masked by the fact that my Mom really is an excellent artist and crafter.

For those of you wondering how it gets to this, this is how:

The tell tale signs are easy for me to read because I am ALWAYS analyzing our conversations and listening for things that should not be said, breaths that should not be taken, pauses that should not last longer than a certain amount of seconds. The first thing I do when I have a voice mail from my Mom is tone-check. Her first word tells me all I need to know--ok, not ok. I usually never listen to the message itself, just the first word. There is rarely a conversation between my Mom and I that I do not take notes on, even on the good days. I can pick up on abnormalities within about 5 minutes of a conversation, and detect if she'll need to "go in" within 48hrs depending on how quickly things escalate. Even knowing doesn't do anything though. It's just a waiting game. She can't get the help she needs until the problem has fully exposed itself, so that what needs to be altered, treated or "fixed", can be.

It starts with weird voice tone, lack of sleep, a stress trigger that may seem like nothing to anyone else but is taken and dissected and processed incessantly instead. Then, confusion about simple things like emails or notes or directions or daily activities, followed by concern for the well being of family members. Each day is a new developement. For my Mom, it takes about 5 days for her to reach "hospital stage". Day 4 is usually conversations that don't make sense, are riveted with silence, and bursting with paranoia. Since I have lived my whole life watching this, raising this, caring for this, I can tell what stage she's at, and what needs to be done, even from 3,000 miles away. I'm not a pro, but when it comes to her I'm as close as anyone can get. Even then I can never be certain because there are always new elements, but I learn as go. Every time more informative than the last. More helpful for the next.

This time, I was a lot closer to CA, visiting my Grandparents in OR. It started, as usual, with a lack of sleep and weird voice tone. Lack of sleep is one of the leading triggers for breakdowns in people with Bi-Polar disorder. This is the main disorder my Mom has, but not the only one. She is also manic depressive, and 3 yrs ago "stage paranoia" developed (these are all my own names for her stages) which is the last stage before whoever or whatever lives inside of her surfaces and she has a breakdown.

Her breakdowns cannot be reverted without treatment at an appropriate facility and, usually, without me to oversee everything. You can imagine how that can slightly complicate things since I live 3,000 miles away. Trust me, I consider moving back almost daily. I have a plan of when I'd like to go back ideally, but I know the likely hood of me reaching that goal is close to zero and that I could go back as soon as months, not years. While I love my life, I constantly feel guilty for it even though my Mom could not be happier or prouder and would do anything, if she could, to prevent me from having to change anything about it on her account.

She was admitted close to home this time, which is great although the hospital she was in the last 2 times is the better one. She's on a 5150 which you can read all about: here.

They're lots of fun. My Mom can make them especially interesting. Weird as it may sound, it's actually one of my favorite things about her. I hate this disease and I hate what it does to her and brings out in her, but I have to admit the entertainment it provides makes it worth the hassle. Some of my favorite quotes from her have come out at times like these!

It is very unlikely she'll be out by Saturday, but miracles happen and ya just never know with these things. I'm not holding my breath.

Until then, I'm still working and doing the whole "management by phone" thing and waiting for it to pass. I'm worried that it's happening again so soon (last time was in August), and what this means for the future. However, I'm glad it has been handled thus far without me needing to be there. She hasn't entered a facility without my involvement before, so that's progress. She's also getting better at knowing for herself that she'll have to go in and speaking up about it. Even if she still ends up 5150'd, it's progress! It gives me hope. I'm impressed with her ironic ability to control the timing. Pissed that it's ruining my Saturday with her, but thankful too. Last time I was already planning on coming out for vacation when she decided to flip out, and she held out until I got there! This time I'm already in the same state AND going up for a day. Thanks for making some of it easy, Mom! And thanks, readers, for letting me vent.

My life can never be accused of being boring.