Pain, Confusion, and Sadness

Those are the emotions that have been dominating my life since earlier this week, and hit full force when my mother attempted to take her own life on Wednesday.

My mother has been an enigma for her entire life to me. At times she has been extraordinarily loving and supportive. She has said more times than I can count that I have made her proud, and turned out to be the man she always hoped I would be. She loves her grandchildren, and took special joy in seeing her first granddaughter start taking horseback riding lessons - her main passion in her life - and even saw her first show this past December. She loved her land, her gardens, and took pride in the wildlife that she through hard work on the swamp I grew up in my back yard turned into a plain which supported deer and other animals.

But she also had a very dark past, and present, of which I knew and know virtually nothing about. Her father was a very hard man, and definately mentally abused both my mother and my grandmother. I don't think I can or will ever understand the depths of pain and trauma she received from that. And, until just now, realized how much it had driven her to a very dark place. She was a registered nurse for 40 years, graduating from one of the premier nursing schools in the country. She knows more about medicine than anyone I know, and more than likely more than most doctors do. Unfortunately, that's been a double edged sword. As a part of the medical community, she also saw first hand the dark side of that industry, and formed a deep level of contempt for it. It's funny...an extraordinary nurse turns into an unbearable patient. She, in her head, knows the care she wants and expects, and anytime she receives less, it infuriates her. She believes that since she is 'in the club', she deserves more than just a regular patient. However, when she gets care that anyone else would (as is right in my mind), she rages.

And then there is the relationship with my father. All of this was hidden from me by and large, but I understand now their connection has husband and wife has been falling for years, if not decades. This year would mark their 40th anniversary, but trust and love and faith - the very cornerstones of the institution of marriage - have been lost for a very long time. My father is by no means perfect. He has been enabling her for years by caving into her agressive nature - in truth, behavior I suspect she learned from her father. He tried and tries so hard to be as good as he can, but when the smallest error is made, it has erupted into World War III. Again. And again. And again. This last time, which led to the horrible turn of events, was about their health insurance. My father was getting health insurance thorugh his sister, who owned her own company. Unfortunately, she closed that down last year, and the group coverage disappeared. So, for the past 6+ months, it appears they have been warring over what type of insurance to get, etc. It eventually came to a point where he had to act, to ensure they stayed covered (asset protection - if they don't have it, and either gets sick, they lose everything). But since she did not control that in as much as she wanted, again...another fight of epic porportions.

Ultimately, she first wrote my sister and I claiming she was leaving my father. Since my sister, and I only in part, knew of the issues, we were resigned that this was what needed to happen. I wrote and talked to her saying we love her and my father, and will support them both independantly, but they need to do what they need to do. That was Monday. Early Wednesday morning brought another email saying that she couldn't do that...didn't have it in her to get a lawyer, etc., and vented some anger on very random stuff to my sister. By and large, I let that one go. Then we received the email Wednesday afternoon that read as a will, and ended with a goodbye. Now, she had a history (again, unbeknownst to me, but very known to my father and sister) of self-medicating herself into a stuppor. We all thought, based on the theatrics of the letters, the phone call, how she set up the house (e.g. she had a bucket next to her bed), that this was just another trip into the realm of unconsciousness to 'check out'. It wasn't until she tried to wake on Thursday morning, and fell, that my father got scared and called 911. She was admitted into the hospital, and long story short, would have died if she didn't. She took a coctail of medications that have her still to this moment in critical condition. She is facing potential liver failure, and if that happens, my sister has her medical directive that she is DNR/DNI and will die. She has kicked my sister, my father, and I out of her room, and this morning said she will never speak nor see us again. I can only hope that, with the proper help, that will fall by the wayside eventually.

If she doesn't, the state is ready to put her case in front of a probate judge and get her the mental treatment she has needed for what is likely most of her life. However, she would never have and never will consent to that. She is raving in the MICU, trying (and succeeding in part) to harm herself and the staff. She has been deemed "terminally suicidal" - by whom I'm not sure, but it came out of someone's mouth - which means to me that she will never leave the hospital until she is mentally "cured", if that is possible. This is by far and away the worst case scenario I dreamed up when this all started. I'm torn to shreds with guilt, regret, pity, and sorrow. I am questioning my faith in God. I am quite literally in the single worst place I have ever been, and hope to ever be.

But in the middle of all of this, I have a rock and cornerstone that is letting me maintain some sense of control - my family and more specifically my wife. She has been nothing short of wonderful, and is supporting me in every manner possible. Also, my kids, as they only know that "granny is very sick and in the hospital", are going about their business and keeping me steady (at least as steady as I can be). My daughter gives out the worlds best hugs, period.

I'm writing this more for me than anything. I needed to express these emotions as a way to vent, to release these thoughts in hopes of easing their hold on me, or at least better understanding what I am feeling. I know there is no way I could have forseen or predicted this, but it doesn't mitigate the guilt too much unfortunately. Even my wife feels guilty for not calling in the emergency as early as we could. But ultimately, she never would have voluntairly taken the help. This is the only way it would happen, so if she gets the attention she needs and some resolution to her mental torments...well, that's something.

I will be trying to keep as much semblance of normal life as I can, so I'll be in site chat, on the boards, and online. If I hop in a game with you, and you want to offer up a headshot or two to keep my spirits up, then by all means do. I'm sorry for this to be what may go down as the single most depressing blog in 2o2p history.

I don't know how all of this will end...nobody does. If you have any thoughts, prayers, or anything to offer up, please do so for my mother. I'll make it through this, but she needs all the help she can get at this point.