It's odd, to live with someone for so much of your life who acts in a fashion that makes them almost a monster.  In a fashion that living with them is akin to some sort of torture.  But then one day, you realize, that the wild horse monster that once used to be your mother is gone, and now she's a domesticated mare.  That horse that once bucked her way from sunup to sundown has now, been broken.  And it happened in such a way that you may have noticed it a little, but when it fully happened, you didn't even see it.  

I am not saying she still isn't bucking on the inside.  Or that she won't revert immediately to that monster horse the minute someone gives her the ability to.  But there used to be a time, like a 40+ year stretch, where my mother couldn't help but to be a biting, farting, kicking, cruel horse (I feel bad to compare to her a horse, horses are majestic and she's an old sea hag).  She couldn't help but to be not only bossy, but to pay so much attention to every little thing that she watched you and made a constant commentary on every teeny-tiny little thing she could, like some kind of obsessed asshole chatterbox.  Everything I said, everything I wore, everything I ate, everything I was doing, etc., it was all commented on.  And this wasn't just me, it was everyone around her she'd do this to.  And it got to the point I'd just want to turn around and smack her.  But of course I never did, because I'm not violent.  But it was exhausting.  And tedious.  And geezus, that's how someone gets CPTSD on top of the CPTSD they already have.  And that's why in 2020, I literally felt like I was going insane and my anxiety was at all time high.  The anxiety I got rid of from childhood came roaring back at full force, and hit me like a ton of bricks all at once.  I almost stopped eating because I was so scared to leave my room to get food (her constant comments on me feeding myself still gives me a twinge of shame to this day).  To experience what I used to feel like as a child living with my mother all over again in my middle 40's?  I have no idea what would be going on today if I hadn't taken charge back of my life.  

Which meant, I had to break her.  

I had to take ALL the power back and not let her have an ounce.  Not because I don't know how to share, but because if you give her an inch, she will take a mile.  And then try to take even more.  So I had to take it all.  And then I had to put my foot down, over and over again.  And if she didn't listen, I had to MAKE her listen (I tell her she can't take in or out the garbage cans because she falls too much, she won't listen, so I locked up the garbage cans, etc.).  And then I had to let things slip.  I had to stop trying to be so organized and clean.  I had to let stuff pile up a little bit.  I had to make her live in a little bit of a mess she could get used to it and stop caring if one tiny thing was out of place.  It's called exposure therapy.  

Listen, I have two kids with ASD.  One is a completely organized minimalist.  No, he's not always the cleanest, like he doesn't do dishes and the such, but his room is immaculate (it's how he manages his anxiety).  And he doesn't make a mess in anywhere but the kitchen.  Whereas my oldest son is the exact opposite.  He's more like me in that respect.  We both have ADHD and we have a really hard time with our executive function which leads us to be bad with organization.  Though I am much older, so I have had experience on how to get better with that.  Since 2016 I've been on a journey to be more clean and organized.  You wouldn't know it, but I do try.  But back when all of this was going on, I was busting my ass cleaning every single day, to the point of burnout.  I know, I know, you're reading this and saying "Every single day?  That's normal."  Yup. It is for a lot of people.  But I also have two kids I do things for all day long, plus at the time 4 dogs, and who knows how many cats, and then my mother.  I cook, I clean, I do all the laundry, I dole out meds at least 3x a week, I do all the financial planning, and pay all the bills, I plan all the doctors appointments for all 5 adult humans, do all the grocery planning and shopping and every other little thing that could possibly happen each day.   Which is a LOT of things that happen.  Plus, I'm a writer, an artist, I own my own shop where I make my own line of clothing, and I read a lot.  Plus, I have fibromyalgia, POTS, chronic migraines and cervicogenic headaches (which are migraines in the base of your head that stem from your neck) and severe anxiety and SAD.  So when I say I don't clean every day, that's why.  Take an ADHD brain and fill it to the fucking brim on a regular basis and watch what happens.  It's not pretty.  It could end up with me spending a week in bed in excruciating pain.  And when I am overwhelmed, add in 5 barking dogs and a kid with impulsive/hyperactive ADHD and a mother who literally calls my name at least every 5 minutes to ask me to do something (or her constant commentary), and then ask me why I am having a meltdown in my bed with my door locked for days on end.  My mother taught me very early on living in this house with her that my only place is in my bedroom with my door locked. 

And that's why I had to stop busting my ass trying to please her by keeping the house perfectly clean.  I also used to do the dishes every single day myself, too.  So little by little, I started slacking on housework so I could give my body and brain a rest before my overwhelm became an overload and I exploded into dust.  

So now, I delegate.  Well, only to my husband, because my kids only help with things in the moment, not regular things.  Though, my youngest does do his own laundry sometimes.  So that's good.  My oldest, and I am not bashing him here, has this "learned helplessness".  Today, that means something totally different than it was used in the early 2000's when I heard about it.  It was referring to kids with ADHD and ASD (though we didn't call it that back then) who learned at a young age to be helpless and refused to do anything for themselves.  It's like, there is a wall preventing them from thinking they are capable of doing thing these things.  And if you try to force them to, they have a meltdown.  So, you have to get through that meltdown (or two) in order to get them to accept that they can do it.  But after more than 20 years of meltdowns, sometimes it's just easier to do it for him.  I know it's a bad thing to teach him that, but I have too much on my plate to endure more grown people having meltdowns.  We work with him all the time to help him get better so he can live in the adult world, but it's not easy and it's slow going.

So my husband does dishes and sometimes gets laundry from the basement for me when it's done.  That's as far as my delegation goes LOL  Sigh.  So, sometimes I don't put things away when I should.  Sometimes the dishes aren't done.  Sometimes I don't sweep when I should.  Or clean the bathroom sink when I should.  And I let my oldest son, who was using the living room as his bedroom due to flooding in the basement, make a fucking mess and I don't go in there to clean it up.  And she has to live with it.  It's not squalor.  

Now, I grew up in squalor.  Sure, on the surface, it was organized, but open a drawer, a closet, or a closed bedroom door and you'd see nothing but chaos spilling out all over the floor.  But even with the "so-called' surface organization, my house was covered in literal animal piss, shit, fur, and dirt.  I don't think our carpets were ever cleaned with a machine once.  Oh god, when I think about my childhood home, I can still smell it.  That's the first memory that comes back to me when I picture those carpets.  Shudder.  Also, our walls??  They were completely yellowed with 3rd hand smoke, complete with the obligatory humidity-created brown drips.  It was on everything.  So, if my mother has to sit in a little clutter?  So be it.  It's helping her be a better person.  At least on the outside.  Also, if I had to grow up in actual squalor?  Then she can endure a little uncomfortableness herself.  Granted, I had to endure WAY more than squalor.  I had to live with a couple of drunken beasts who physically and emotionally abused each other (and me).  So yeah, clutter isn't a big deal compared to that.  

Which is what I'd say to her if she ever brought it up LOL  

But she doesn't at all anymore.  She doesn't constantly bitch the fridge didn't shut right (it's one of those two-door thingies that get stuck).  She doesn't talk about what other people eat.  She doesn't bitch, moan, or complain about anything being dirty or messy or whatever.  Although, yesterday she bitched my son left a bowl in the living room.  Ohhh, had I been in there, I would have laid into her and told her she doesn't do the dishes, so she needs to shush.  And they're MY dishes (which is what I told her one time when she has an utter meltdown about my son having supposed dishes in his room) since I bought them.  But alas, my husband was in there and defended him, which was good.  But other than that, she doesn't say a word anymore.  

I think she said something smart-assy to Christmas yesterday on the phone about the house being a bit messy, but I didn't hear it as I was talking to my husband and missed it.  But to our faces, she's quiet about it.  Which is kind of amazing.  I honestly didn't think she had it in her to ever be quiet.  But it's been a very long road to get to this point.  And all I had to do was take 100% of her power away.  Like that was an easy thing to do LOL  And had she never gotten dementia or gotten sick it never would have happened.  

I like this version of her.  I mean, I like her better than before.  I still don't usually like her.  She's still mean and bossy and will literally stab me in the back the moment she's given the opportunity to.  But still, she's better than she used to be and that makes my days so much easier.  It's about the best I can ask for, I guess.  

Does she mean it?  Like deep down?  Oh hell no.  She's just learned she can't do anything about it so she gave up.  Which is what today's version of "learned helplessness" actually means.  From Wikipedia: "Learned helplessness is the behavior exhibited by a subject after enduring repeated aversive stimuli beyond their control. It was initially thought to be caused by the subject's acceptance of their powerlessness, by way of their discontinuing attempts to escape or avoid the aversive stimulus, even when such alternatives are unambiguously presented."  Also, it's a huge reason that depression happens.  Sounds cruel, right?  But know that to a narcissist, an "adverse stimuli" would mean losing their power.  The power in which they use for evil.  

• My mother used her power over her finances to control me and others around her who didn't have money (like her old BFF Valentine's, who she used money to completely control, as the woman was always broke).  She would dangle money as a way to get you do things for her, too, knowing you needed it, the way the mafia or some other crime organization does.  
• My mother used her power to drive herself places as a way to control myself and others, by never ever being the person who rode with anyone, but always drove.  That way she controlled where you were going with her, how long it would take, etc.  She used it as a way to have complete power over the other person.  
• She used her power of always making people visit her and never visiting anyone as way to control what you did with your life.  Coming to see her was you making an effort.  But if she didn't come to see you, that was okay, because you were supposed to come see her.  My in-laws did the same exact thing. 
• She used her power of friendships to make other people jealous and pit them against each other.  She would be on the discard part of their friendship cycle (or with me) and then talk shit about that person to other people in her group so everyone hated them.  It was the only way she could entertain herself and get narcissistic supply.
• She used her power as a pet owner to act like her pet liked her more than you.  And if that pet showed they liked you more in any given moment, she would literally call them a traitor and punish them for it.  
• She used her power of owning the house you live in to think she was owed the ability to use your stuff as her stuff and literally rearrange it every single day, or hide your things because she didn't like them.  She still rearranged the kitchen on a daily basis even after she stopped cooking. 
• She used her power as the "Queen of the Holidays" as an excuse to be super verbally and emotionally abusive to anyone she wanted help from.  Which is why she is banned from ever setting foot in the kitchen during the holidays anymore.