What do you do when your mom goes crazy? I’m not talking about having a moment of lapse in judgment or temporary insanity caused by a moment of traumatic stimuli. I’m talking certifiable, unjustifiable, deterioration of all that is logical.

She’s been acting out, throwing fits, temper tantrums and causing general chaos for everyone caught in the reach of her madness. They say she’s not suffering from dementia or Alzheimer’s…they don’t know what to call it so far. I call it MOM!

The latest and greatest events sent her to the ER for evaluation. She claimed she tried to strangle herself with her oxygen tubing. The emergency department said there were no signs that she had actually done that. They put her on a 72 hour mental health hold and placed security guards over her to watch her. With a full crew of onlookers, she claimed again that she tried it do the same thing under watchful eyes…nobody saw anything and again there were no signs.

When she didn’t get whatever response she was hoping for, she started acting more normal…It seemed as though the madness had ended for a moment when suddenly she screamed! Blood curdling, spine wrenching, ear piercing scream then, she stopped talking and responding to staff and me except the occasional peep out of the corner of her eye to see if I was still there. She continued to not respond for the rest of the day and into the night.

The next morning, she acted as if nothing had happened and was more concerned about her breakfast tray than anything else. As I stood by her side watching the med staff do their thing, checking her heart, hooking up new machines, changing her soiled sheets…I saw the reflection in her eyes of a lost soul looking for a home. Emptiness, loss, deep, dark shadows of a life not lived to it’s fullest potential…how sad for her that she never grew up and lived her life…always looking for someone to rescue her from herself…never finding her knight in shining armor…only finding the bottom of an ice cream carton or the inside of a rubber room when the ice cream didn’t fix the moment.

She was fine for a while after being tucked back into the hospital bed. The Physician’s Assistant came in to see how she was feeling and asked her about her thoughts…she said…”I’m fine…just thinking of a way to kill myself.” The PA took her notes and left the room. I asked my mom if she really wanted to kill herself.  She said, ” A gun would work the best, but I don’t have access to one” and proceeded to tell me how much she wanted to die.

I asked her why. Her response was a temper tantrum of epic proportions. She blamed her brother ( a year and a half younger than her) for taking her mom’s love away from her…she blamed her mother for taking her away from her grandfather (they moved to another state due to my grandfather’s military position) she blamed me for being born and ruining her life and chance to be an artist. She blamed my kids for taking me away from her. She blamed my grandkids for taking me away from her. Again she blamed me for being born because I took the love of her parents away from her. ( she left me with my grandparents when she moved to California.)She blamed me for her getting old, her bad back because her labor was too long when I was born. She said she wanted to die and it was all my fault…

I looked at her with numb serenity and said…”I think the only person you were ever really trying to hurt with your ‘suicide attempts’ or threats was me…everyone of them has been aimed at me and I am NOT going to be your target anymore! I love you and always will, but I will NOT be your emotional punching bag ANYMORE!” She looked at me with wide eyes and bewilderment. ( Other than running away from home when I was 16, this was the first time I have stood up to my mom…)Then, she pushed her arms down against her sides, turned her head away from me and said in a little kid way of throwing a temper tantrum…”I don’t like you anymore!” I said “that’s fine…I still love you. I’m going to leave now, I hope you feel better.”

I went home…the numbness wore off and insecurity set in.  I wondered if I would ever wind up going crazy like my mom. Wondering if I was already crazy and just not able to see it. Did I do the right thing? It felt so good to walk away…to take my remaining strength and use it to save myself…but…was it ok? was I wrong for being selfish? Was I being selfish or just self preserving? Many tears and hours of sadness later, I decided there is no way I can save her…all I can do is try to save myself. With that empowering thought… I drifted off to sleep…

The alarm went off…I jumped out of bed…thought to myself…” it’s good to wake up sane…”