So I set ma up with a psych through the service I use, which is located in our state, but not our town, so we can only talk through the phone.  I use their therapy services and ma will too, as long as it's not my therapist.  Her meds aren't working anymore, and she's super depressed, so I had a bright idea to use the same place I use, because I have to keep track of a hundred different docs for her and this is just easier.  I thought to myself "Wow, look at you go, you problem solver!  What a great idea!"  But of course, she complains.  She complained about another psych I was going to call, which was my son's old psych.  She's amazing, but she's downtown, so my  mother had an issue with that.  So I thought to call my place.  Mother has no idea I use this service, or that I have a therapist, because the only person that matters is her and her issues, and I do not share our personal lives with her.  

Anyways, she has dementia, as I've said before, and I need to be with her so she can understand what people are saying to her and so I can answer questions for her that she can't remember.  But then they asked her about any sexual abuse in her (or any kind of abuse0 and she asked me to leave the room.  I knew exactly what she was going to talk about, her rape at fifteen that she finally admitted to a couple years ago, when her old therapist got it out of her.  During that time she made a HUGE deal out of it, and wouldn't stop talking about it, which made me so damn uncomfortable back then.  So she came out of her phone appointment from her room and I was outside and she said "Oh, I didn't mean you had to leave the room for the entire appointment!  Just that part.  I wasn't even going to tell her about it, but I felt I had to and.." and in that moment I just wanted to plug my ears and scream.  I didn't two shits about why she told the psych about her rape or that she had to talk about it again or anything about it all.  I DO NOT FUCKING CARE.  

I know that sounds awful, but if she brings it up again, I am going to be straight with her.  My therapist said I need to do more of that, because she no longer has control over my life in any way, other than the control I give her, so there is nothing to fear as a "punishment" for standing up to her or speaking my truth.  And he's right.  So if she brings up her rape again, I will be forward and say "I don't care to hear about this mother."  And if she presses me, I will say "Well, I was also raped when I was around the same age and you told everyone I was a whore.  And when I told you about it, you ignored me.  So I don't give two shits about what happened to you when you were a kid, okay?  I'm not your mother, I'm not your friend, I'm your caretaker.  I am not here to help you through talking about this."  Granted, I won't say that part about not being her friend, even though I'm not.  I'm not here to be mean to her.  I'm not her.  Once back in the day, I complained my ex refused to take my kids for the weekend and she said flat out to me "I don't feels sorry for you one bit.  Nobody else gets a break as a parent, so you shouldn't either!"  No reason, she wasn't even mad at me.  That's just how she talked to me.  But let someone talk to HER that way and all hell would break loose.  

Anyways, no.  Just no.  I wanted to scream when she started saying this shit.  But I did what I do best, and I redirected her.  She has dementia, so it's easy for me to change the subject and she'll forget what she's talking about.  Mean?  Yes.  But necessary sometimes.  

I've said it before, but I'm not her fucking friend.  I'm not here to be pals with her.  I'm not her buddy.  I'm here to make sure she's safe.  That's it.  

But I'm not sure how much longer I can even do that, as she's having issues swallowing and barfs at dinner after choking on her food.  And I have SEVERE emetophobia.  Always have.  And if she's going to continue to barf while eating, she's going to need care I cannot give her anymore.  But we'll see if it stops or progresses.  

Anyways, I was raped at fourteen out of my virginity.  She was raped at fifteen (and even though I am not the type of person to slut shame or ignore the cries of a person who's been raped, I do wonder if what happened to her was actual rape, or was it something she's calling rape-I'm only saying this because I know my mother exaggerates...though no matter what it is, it's something bad, so it doesn't really matter).  And because it happened to her, it's important.  But when I told her about it happening to me, she flat out pretended I didn't say anything.  And then later, she told all OUR friends, that I was a whore and probably wasn't raped, even though they didn't even know I was raped, so she told them!  And then told them I was a liar.  

But when it happens to her, it's important and real.  So fuck her.  And fuck that stupid conversation she was trying to have with me.  I hope she never brings it up again, but I also kind of hope she does...just so I can tell her the truth.