My apologies for what is about to be typed in a fit of distraction over here. My brain is spinning in circles like a bunch of flies trapped in a jar. The dog is howling her lungs out upstairs, and my kitchen light just burnt out. Here goes:
About 5 years ago now, my mother began to get forgetful. Three years ago she was forced to quit her job because she couldn’t remember how to do important things. At that time she went to her GP, who dismissed it as a byproduct of menopause, and told her to get a grip. This time last year, I tried to get an appointment with the same doctor with some of my own brain related issues, and was couldn’t even get the receptionist to listen. Three weeks later I wound up in psyc emerg. (but that is that… and not really part of this story.)
Last spring I began to get very worried about my mother. She was forgetting how to spell simple words, forgetting how to do simple tasks, and frequently repeating the same question 6 times in the space of an hour. I tried to talk to her, but she just got angry. Next I tried talking to her sister. Aunt X insisted that she was “getting so much better “and warned me “never to cry wolf”. My grandmother was adamant that “it will all just blow over.” My family comes from a place where mental health is a taboo topic, and if they just don’t acknowledge something it really can’t exist.
So last December I girded my loins and sat down to write a two page letter to the aforementioned doctor. I stated everything that she forgets, misplaces, and repeats. I worried I would make him mad. I worried I would look like a fool. I worried I would shame my family and ruin the relationship I have with my mother. I just plain worried. I took a breath and set it to his office. Then I spent several afternoons slowly convincing mother to let me book her an appointment. We called the office, booked her in, and then waited the 8 weeks until the date.
This morning I washed my hair, pulled on my dress pants and drove mum to her appointment. The doctor pretty much took one look at her, scheduled her for a CT scan and referred her to see a local neurologist. He said he was really glad we came in. My mother is indignant about needing help. The family is tisk tisking all over the place. I am exhausted.
So after all of that, my question is this: Is anybody else here dealing with a similar situation of having to help a loved one through a mental health situation? My peer group around here are all fixated with dating and clubbing. I am in the middle of my own mental health situation, and now I have to figure out my mother’s diagnosis too. I really don’t resent my lot. It would just be really nice to know there are others out there living with the same thing! Thank you so much.
Love and Hugs!
About 5 years ago now, my mother began to get forgetful. Three years ago she was forced to quit her job because she couldn’t remember how to do important things. At that time she went to her GP, who dismissed it as a byproduct of menopause, and told her to get a grip. This time last year, I tried to get an appointment with the same doctor with some of my own brain related issues, and was couldn’t even get the receptionist to listen. Three weeks later I wound up in psyc emerg. (but that is that… and not really part of this story.)
Last spring I began to get very worried about my mother. She was forgetting how to spell simple words, forgetting how to do simple tasks, and frequently repeating the same question 6 times in the space of an hour. I tried to talk to her, but she just got angry. Next I tried talking to her sister. Aunt X insisted that she was “getting so much better “and warned me “never to cry wolf”. My grandmother was adamant that “it will all just blow over.” My family comes from a place where mental health is a taboo topic, and if they just don’t acknowledge something it really can’t exist.
So last December I girded my loins and sat down to write a two page letter to the aforementioned doctor. I stated everything that she forgets, misplaces, and repeats. I worried I would make him mad. I worried I would look like a fool. I worried I would shame my family and ruin the relationship I have with my mother. I just plain worried. I took a breath and set it to his office. Then I spent several afternoons slowly convincing mother to let me book her an appointment. We called the office, booked her in, and then waited the 8 weeks until the date.
This morning I washed my hair, pulled on my dress pants and drove mum to her appointment. The doctor pretty much took one look at her, scheduled her for a CT scan and referred her to see a local neurologist. He said he was really glad we came in. My mother is indignant about needing help. The family is tisk tisking all over the place. I am exhausted.
So after all of that, my question is this: Is anybody else here dealing with a similar situation of having to help a loved one through a mental health situation? My peer group around here are all fixated with dating and clubbing. I am in the middle of my own mental health situation, and now I have to figure out my mother’s diagnosis too. I really don’t resent my lot. It would just be really nice to know there are others out there living with the same thing! Thank you so much.
Love and Hugs!
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