'Normal' is a setting on the dryer... Another episode that includes 'From The Mouth Of A Hoarder'!

Ye gods where do I start...  She keeps giving me so much material of late.  I will start with the FTMOAH...
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[Referencing her disgusting act of peeing in a cup to see what color her urine was...] "I have a disgusting question for you..."

NO.  Just NO.

"You know day before yesterday when I peed it the cup and it was orange?  Well, I decided that maybe I should keep it to show the doctor [if she went to a doc-in-a-box] so this morning when I got it out of the refrigerator it was still orange, but there was a whole lot of sediment in the bottom and..."

<Presses END CALL repeatedly>
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"... So I am giving [the charity] a whole box of new things I got from [local hardware store as premiums] all except the new toilet brush, it makes a great back scratcher.  I am going to keep it next to my chair..."
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[Discussing her six year old lawnmower that the ignition switch went bad on apparently]..."And I know IT HAD HELP!  HE BROKE IN and either shoved something in the ignition or messed with the wires because ..."
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[Talking about the neighbor's fiancee that came to see about her lawn mower who is diabetic, in his late 70's and recovering from serious spinal fusion surgery, c-diff and hospital induced pneumonia...]"He is SO BIG and he is totally WHITE HEADED!  I was SHOCKED!"

What makes the difference?  Many folks over the age of 40 are seriously gray, and weight is a shallow way to judge someone [trying to not call her out for being so shaming of someone for aging when she is nearly 81, gray and you name it].  
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I am missing several other things, it is just out of reach some of the more recent comments she has made that are racist, irrational or just over-the-top paranoid.
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So- she continues to have no air conditioning, no one will come back to replace her roof, and she continues on her normal, negative trajectory.  

This past weekend I attended my high school reunion.  I decided definitively that I was going the day before the deadline to cancel my hotel for a full refund.  The major reason for the indecision was I am having surgery next Monday, and last week my preoperative mammogram came back not-so-great.  I had to get additional testing on the Thursday before.  Luckily, it came back okay for now, and they will stagger tests so I am being monitored every 3 months for a while.  So all that is happening on Monday is the tumor/cyst/mass removal and removal of the last remaining ovary.  My mother has not asked when my surgery is of late, and I have no intention of telling her.  She will do NOTHING to help, and she will most likely grandstand and make my life (and recovery) absolutely miserable like she did in August of 2013 and July of 2014.  I cannot take it.  Even if she asks, I am not telling her when it is.  I just secured a hotel room near the hospital to keep my friend that is taking (and me!) from having to leave here at 5am or before.  They will not know until they get in me how invasive things will be, and whether I will have to stay past that evening.  With things so up in the air, she will DEFINITELY go to 'worst case scenario' and then I will get to hear about her ovarian cyst rupture and hysterectomy in 1984.  Because everything is a springboard for her to talk about herself.  I will just not call her that weekend and that Monday, and hopefully I can call her and sound somewhat normal on Tuesday.  I hope.  And if I can, I may not tell her until it is long over.  

Sorry, I digress.  Back to the reunion saga.  Now, her chiropractor is a classmate, and informed my mother of the reunion and asked "Is Lisabeth going to visit when she is in?"  To which my mother informed her that she did not know a reunion was happening, I had not told her.  So, after quite a bit of thought, and after my mother's neighbor sent me a picture she had taken secretly, I know why my mother has steadfastly refused to see me since three months to my life threatening issue in 2013.  She is not disabled and mobility challenged as she claims, she is not dangerously frail and thin, and she is now white headed.  If she sees me, all of her house of cards falls.  I had events pretty much all weekend, but I could see her the night I arrived for 2-3 hours, and was going to offer to meet her at 5ish pm and a restaurant of her choosing.  I called at 12 noon as I was leaving, and advised her voice mail that I would be in the car for quite a while, to call me.  Over 2 hours later, she had not called, and I called again and left a message to call me when she got the message.  Torrential downpours and wrecks slowed me down, and by the time I arrived at the historic hotel I had reserved a room at, it was past 6pm.  No word.  I went and got dinner at my favorite local pizza place and just had time to get back to the hotel and shower and change for that night's reunion kick off.  Nothing from her on Friday, nothing on Saturday.  I could have made time for her on Saturday, but I was not chasing her.  I met her neighbor for breakfast (who confirmed she is spry and gets around just fine) and went to a restaurant with some high school friends that ironically, was 2 miles from her home.  I had to drive past her street to get there.  NOTHING.  Now, I know for a fact that when the Chiropractor, Dr. Wednesday told her that, she wrote it in her calendar.  So whether she will admit it or not, she knew that most likely I was on the way the the town I grew up in for the reunion when I left the messages.  

Friday night the chiropractor was there, but I managed to ignore her and did not interact.  I do not need a load of guilt from a 'wonderful stranger' or 'flying monkey', especially when she should not be acknowledging my mother is her patient under the ethics of confidentiality.  I also know that Dr. Wednesday saw me, so she will turn herself inside out to say "Did you and Lisabeth have a nice visit when she was in for the reunion?" the first time my mother is there for her monthly adjustment.  

Sunday, I met a high school friend for lunch, and left my natal state happily.  I had a great time, but I wanted to go back home.  At 5 pm, my phone rang and it was my hoarding mother.  I did not answer, and did not return her call until I walked in my apartment 3 hours later.  She was escalated about her mower not starting because everything is Defcon 1.  She wanted me to order a part from Amazon because she does not use her credit cards online.  Um... NO.  Ironically, I had received a call that morning about one of my cards being fraudulently compromised that morning at the stroke of 8am.  We got off the phone, and today I called her back to tell her to order it from a local store, that I was not ordering on Amazon.  She did not ask about my weekend, how I was feeling, or anything that is going on.  

I have decided to let Dr. Wednesday stir the 'shit cauldron'.  I will deal with my mother's manufactured crisis and other's crises that morning.  We shall deal with whatever she throws at me, when she does.  She did mention she was in the area of my hotel on Sunday.  She has no reason to be in that part of town, so that was strange.  

My best friend of 36 years said her parents saw my mother a few weeks ago and they remarked how well she was getting along and moving around.  I also cannot deal with my mother's interrogation of who was there, what we did (drank... A LOT) and her endless barrage of nosy, intrusive questions.

I am tired.  Just so tired.  Hoarding, no one wins.  No one.

Can I just hide for a bit?

Today is the Monday before Christmas.  It has been Monday all day, if you know what I mean.  Not all bad, but intense and full of ups and downs.

Today I got a call from my hoarding mother as I was within 10 minutes of the office.  I told her I was almost to work, and I would call her when I started home this evening.  And I did, post doctor's appointment with the chiropractor.  I knew that I would hear from her since it had been a few days since we last spoke.  

She was in a ruminating mood, and first she said that she got a poundcake in her mailbox which is most likely from the lovely couple she went scorched earth on since they dared to try to improve the dirt road they all reside on.  I did not comment or give any feedback, and she progressed to accusing the hated neighbor 'in the turn' of stealing a scale from her laundry room and hanging it on his porch, stealing a chair from the attic of the hoarded garage and putting it in his flower bed, and stealing a wind chime set and putting on his porch as well.  Oh- and he stole a wooden ladder from her that against his garage.  I told her we were done on that topic, if she felt he engaged in theft to call the police, and if not, it was all speculation and not worth the headspace.  She then said she wished he would "move to [the city where his brother lived] and get a job as a pizza delivery driver and run from the police".  The hated neighbor lost his brother several months ago.  His brother relapsed, and while out delivering pizza ran from the police and was killed in the pursuit, he was shot fatally.  Just an absolutely hateful and shitty thing to say.  I advised her we were done on the topic, and that was simply enough.  I ended the call, grabbed some dinner at the local taqueria and went home.  

There I found some lovely holiday cards, I have the best friends anyone could ask for.  One sent a card from my kitties to 'Mom Grey'.  Then I got to the final two, and they were from my sister and my mother's sister.  And I felt like a set of cinder blocks dropped on my shoulders.  My sister's card was over the top sentimental, and I got the "I love and miss you" stuff.  Yeah.  Actions speak so much louder than words.  My aunt's card was full of scrawled writing still going on about the incident in May where she called the police on my sister, and a whole lot of paranoid craziness.

I just can't.  Cannot.  Will not.  I am in a really strange place where I simply need to withdraw from all of them, and I have decided that it is time to seek a therapist that understands hoarding to work through whatever this is.  I cannot remember feeling this tired ... and I cannot even describe how I feel right now.  I find joy in my job, my friends, my cats, my hobbies, but for some reason this is a quagmire.  

I am not sure what is happening.  I was a bit low this past birthday, and I was glad when it passed.  I just want this holiday season to be over so they will not have the usual excuse to reach out and give me a poke.  

I have some decisions to make.  Nearly 20 years ago I essentially estranged myself for self preservation and so I could have a shot at a life.  I think what is happening now is my willingness to deal with the narcissistic behavior of those who are supposed to love me, but only see me as an extension of what they want to happen, is getting very depleted.  Is this what the space before the jump into no contact feels like?  

I have created a safe and quiet life for myself, and yes, work is exceptionally stressful and very busy, and my side business is booming, my friendships remain a key support for me, as do my fuzzy family members... my cats.

Why am I allowing these folks who are related by biology but not necessarily affinity to send me into a tailspin?  Enough.  Just enough.  If they keep pushing me, I will just *poof* on them.  I am good at that, sadly.  

Sorry for a whiny and rather repetitive post.  I will post a humorous one soon.  Have a great holiday if, and how, you choose to celebrate.  

Thank you for reading.  

Not your normal post- Skydiving!

This is not necessarily hoarding related, but thought I would share!

I did it.  Today I jumped out of an airplane.  And it was all I hoped it would be and more.  I had so much fun, it was such a rush, and I want to do it again soon.

I did not share that I was doing this with my hoarding mother, however I am certain that she will know at some point since her neighbor and the 'Flying Monkey/Wonderful Stranger' Chiropractor are on my social networking site and most likely saw the many photos and other things posted today.

She will be PISSED.  And I simply do not care.  At 46 years old I do not need, nor do I require, her permission or approval.  She will be angry that I did this and 'kept it from her'.  She will be angry that should could not verbally vomit her negativity, fear, and threatening worldview prior to it.  She will be upset that it was such a lovely day with friends, and that nothing she can do can change it.  And that is all her stuff, none of it is mine.

I stepped way outside my comfort zone today.  I am really not a fan of heights, and small planes.  I do not surrender dominion of myself easily.  And today I did all of it.  And it was fun!  (And no 'oopses'...)

I will continue to live life at full volume, very unlike my hoarding mother who considers life as 'opportunity lost'.  She is making a choice, as am I.  I choose happiness, experiences, relationships... I think I know what is important.

Hope you had a great weekend.  Thank you for reading!

Flying monkeys, wonderful strangers, and a whole helping of guilt for Lisabeth....

I received this last night about 9pm. Yesterday was a supremely craptastic day at work, and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and I got this via social media.  I was so angry that I was trembling like I was freezing to death in subzero temperatures.  I was very triggered, and felt waves of anger, frustration, guilt, shame, you-name-it.  I cried and scared my cats.

The person sending this graduated from high school with me in my hometown 7 hours away. She is my mother's chiropractor, and her longest running 'wonderful stranger' and now, applicant to be a 'flying monkey' in Narcissistic Mother speak...

I was nearby to my NM in early April, and my mother could not be anything but a problem to any solution and, long-story-short... Declined to see me.

She has not seen me since April of 2013, three months before I nearly died and required 2 major surgeries in 10 months, (the first I was not expected to survive). In the 16 years I have lived in the state that is now my home she has never visited, and besides her toxicity, gaslighting, emotional abuse with  all the pleasant features of Narcissistic Personality Disorder, she is a level 4/5 hoarder, ergo this blog. It is not physically nor emotionally safe to be near her. As those who have read this blog over the past couple of years know, I have been extremely low contact for years.

Today is my birthday, and so far no acknowledgement of it from NM. (Not that I want a princess cake and a bouncy castle, but a timely card and a Happy Birthday call would be, well, motherly.)

Did I mention I loathe all the Mother's Day pathos?

Thanks for reading my vent. I treated myself to a new runner watch/GPS/fitness tracker that I have been looking at for a few months.  I had a lovely morning run in the May sunshine.  I am having a great work day, and plan on a lovely evening. I am over this...  

I did respond to 'Dr. Wednesday'.  My response was as follows:  

I appreciate your honesty and your kind care of her. She thinks the world of you. I tried to see her last month, and she declined. Our relationship is very complicated, and as much as I love her, she will not allow me to be a part of her life in the way that I would like to be or to do anything helpful for her. It breaks my heart, but she is the only one that can change it, and she just can't. If you would like to talk to me my number is ....

I know that Dr. Wednesday is close to her family and may not have a frame of reference.  I also do not believe the timing of this (the evening before my birthday and midweek prior to Mother's Day in the US) is coincidental.  My hoarding mother had a chiro visit with her yesterday.  

Such a little thing, and the maelstrom it awakened in me made me realize that although I have progressed by leaps and bounds, I have to accept that I have been impacted by the abuse I survived, and the craziness I still navigate now as a middle aged adult.  

It (the hoarding, the abuse, the gaslighting) is not who I am, but it has shaped me.  I have to continue to honor and resolve that, like any other human being.

Thank you for reading.  Have a great week.

Just a note to 'Wonderful Strangers' of people who hoard...

Many quote worthy conversations in the past few days, but none that trigger me like the one she had yesterday with her chiropractor.  For those of you just reading for the first time, this person graduated from high school with me, and my mother has used her 'audience' with this woman to run me down and play the 'poor elderly woman who is neglected' role with her.  She is also obsessed with the fact this woman is a lesbian, and is constantly speculating about her income and cost of her vehicles and such.  Oh... and is fixated on her mode of dress and weight.  

So, I called her today, and she informed me that 'Dr. Wednesday' asked her if she had any relatives in town.  Mother advised she did not, which is partially true.  Most of our relatives are dead and gone, and she essentially drove her hoarding, narcissistic sister out of town with her campaign of hate and craziness. She is totally estranged from any of her maternal or paternal family, to the point I do not know surnames or if they are alive, etc.  'Wednesday' asked if she thought I would ever return to town to live.  She was informed that no, I would not.  And she preceded to expound on the reasons SHE perceives I will not... some are true (like being so economically challenged - my home state is in the heart of Appalachia, job opportunities, I have lived elsewhere so long that my current state is home) and then she had to start in... that I hate my home state, "I think she is afraid she might have to actually lift a finger and help around here" and blah blah blah.  NICE.  She was asked if she would consider moving closer to me ... to which she said that traffic, etc. was too bad, and several other excuses, like this area is the 'big city'.  Um... NO.  She also stated that she doesn't know why I wouldn't come back, she 'wouldn't bother'  me.  She further stated that all I do is work, I am never home (true during grant season at work) and that I am always out 'running' her derisive descriptor for the things you do with friends...

That kind of discussion strikes a trill of fear into my little, cold, black heart.  <You're a mean one, Ms. Grinch...>  I am very happy with 7 hours of travel between us.  It keeps the craziness limited to phone and ground mail.  I have been contemplating my next career move, and whether I will move out west... Even further away.  The problem with that is, my friends who are like family are here.  And although I am confident I would meet new and wonderful friends, and would stay in touch with the ones so important to me, I am not sure I WANT TO at this point.  So no rush.

I know this doctor means well, and although she has to suspect my mother has mental illness, (the personal hygiene should tell her if nothing else) she is my hoarding mother's newest 'Wonderful Stranger'.  She is probably using conversations regarding me to keep a rapport going with my mother.  We are connected on Facebook.  I just wish she would STOP. Honestly, I wish she had never acknowledged she knew me.  

I wish 'Wednesday' well, as she will undoubtedly find at some point in the not too distant future, that the fall from the 'Wonderful Stranger' pedestal is a hard and crazy one.

What I really wish is simple.  I wish folks would stop pushing and assuming that all families are functional and healthy families. Or at least, understand that some families are so full of abuse and narcissism that it is unsafe, both physically and emotionally, to have any sort of close, meaningful relationship.  I would also like for folks to understand that if someone is estranged or has taken the 'geographical solution' most times there is a reason, and to quit picking around the edges of it.  Some things cannot be fixed, nor should they be.  Some decisions have consequences, and sometimes the hoarder gets what he or she wants, to be alone with their stuff.  And some distance from an what seems to be a vulnerable elderly relative is not abuse or neglect, it is simply protecting yourself from further harm.  There is a minimum of 2 sides to each situation...

You cannot want something more than the hoarder does.  You cannot fix it in spite of or under the radar of the hoarder.  All an adult COH can do is set appropriate boundaries it takes to give you the space to heal.  In my case, that is 7 hours of driving time and 5 or so phone calls a week to check in.

Dr. 'Wednesday' will find out how 'pathetic, lonely, misunderstood and frail' this hoarding person is when she no longer serves the role my mother has scripted ... since no one has different opinions, life-truths, etc. than her... everyone is merely an extension of the Lifetime movie script that plays in her head.

Hoarding, no one wins.