If what had happened today had happened around a year or so ago?  I would have woken up today very angry.  Not at anyone other than my mother, knowing what was to come out of her mouth.  If you go back to my post about becoming "WOTH", which stands for "woman of the house", usurping my mother out of that position that she put herself in (without asking anyone or sharing the title), know that was perhaps the most beneficial choice I've ever made with her.  And the second most beneficial choice was to create my "One and Done" rule.  This rule states "if you don't listen to me the first time I ask you to stop doing something, I will take away your access to it so you aren't able to do it again".  This rule I still use to this day and it still works.  AND, even with the dementia, she knows exactly why I do those things (because she always says "you don't have to do that, I won't do it again"--but I still keep it that way anyways, as I know she will do it again, whatever it is).  

Yesterday was Sunday.  Sunday we take out the garbage because Monday is garbage day.  And yesterday, we forgot to take out the garbage.  So, I got my husband up an hour early to help me get the garbage out.  Had the garbage men come before that time, I would have just called the company and asked them to stop by tomorrow.  They are more than happy to do it, and don't care one bit.  So, it's really no big deal if we forget.  We never usually do, but just in case we do, it's super easy to just get it done the next day.  So, even though we're trying to get it before the guys come, it's honestly not stressful at all.  And it never would have been, had my mother not been involved in every single little bullshit ass thing in our lives that she could.  Now, my choice to become WOTH, mixed with her dementia, she pays absolutely no attention to much anymore. 

At first, her depression kept her from caring.  She literally became depressed because I didn't allow her to be the "woman of the house" anymore.  I actually felt guilty, until I realized that her depression was based on the fact she couldn't control anyone anymore.  Who the fuck gets depressed that they can't control other people?  Crazy ass narcissists, that's who.  Now her dementia has taken away much of her daily life, and all she does is play a video game all day.  Not video games, but one single video game.  She doesn't watch TV.  She does still read, thank goodness.  And she still gardens (although she shouldn't, but I can't stop her and she won't listen--her arthritis in her knee is just going to get worse and she can't get a replacement right now, or possibly ever).  But she doesn't pay attention to much, other than when the grass isn't mowed.  

So, getting my husband up to help me get the garbage out was a daunting task, as he's always hard to wake.  But we did it and it's done and the garbage man haven't come yet, so it will get picked up today.  It wasn't complicated or stressful or crazy, as it would have been if mother had been pounding on our door at 7 am (which she used to do) freaking the fuck out over it.  I am not sure what she thought would happen if we had to wait a week (which we didn't realize at the time we could have just called the company--their motto is "you paid for it, so you get the service").  Yes, it would have been stinkier, but it's outside where nobody hangs out and nobody would have noticed.  But that was my mother, wound up like a balloon animal at a hedgehog convention (thanks to ChatGPT for giving me that metaphor haha, it describes her perfectly LOL).  

Every moment of every single day, she would be up your ass about every little thing that either needed to be done, or the things you were doing that did not require her input, or the things you forgot to do.  She had been that way for my entire life.  Damn, that must have been tiring, being that wound up, being in that state of mind every moment you're awake.  Relax?  No way!  That would give her a panic attack.  In fact, everything gave her a fucking panic attack.  Funny, she used to bash me and berate me and humiliate me for my panic attacks, yet, there she was, having one every single moment of every single day.  I guess when you are one large panic attack yourself, you forget that that's not normal.  Or when you're a narcissist, you probably don't care what's normal and what's not.  Her constant vigilance to every little thing that's going on in her life and in the lives the people around her gave her the illusion of control, but in reality, it just made her look like a psycho and made everyone around her want to punch her.  Also, it made people around her constantly lie to her about things that were not her business to be involved in, just so those people could get some sort of semblance of  privacy.  I still lie to my mother on a regular basis, but now it's more about protecting her from spinning out of control with her thoughts and then us having to do deal with that.  It's just so much easier to only tell her things when she needs to know them.  

I feel bad saying this, but I am grateful for her dementia.  It has helped her to calm down, which makes my life easier.  But even if I wasn't in her life, I would be happy to know that she didn't have to spend every single waking moment of her elder years in a haze of anxiety.  She still has anxiety, but nowhere near the amount she had before.  But not only has her dementia allowed her to be more calm most days (not always), it's allowed me to have a normal existence in my own house.  She still takes advantage of me when I am sick or when I am not home (like during the eclipse).  But most of the time she stays out of the way and allows me to take care of things.  I am sure not willingly some days!  But even if she's wanting to do something annoying, she doesn't do it and just chills out in her room playing her one video game.  

Tomorrow she goes to the neurologist.  And that will give her something else to do (fun, right?).  And some days I take her to get her hair done and then we go book shopping.  But other than that, she stays out of my life, out of my hair, and when she does interact with us, she's usually pretty tame about it.  She still has her crabby days.  Or her hyperactive controlling days.  But they are far and few between now.  Thank goodness.  

So when she annoys me, and I get annoyed, I stop and think about just how far we've come and then I try to let it go.  Because this existence with her?  Is finally tolerable most days.  For all of us.  

Finally.