So, today was her doc appointment, and she 100% has emphysema.  

And now, she said to my husband "Well, if she's going to make me quit smoking, I want $50 a month to compensate for me having to quit, so I can spend it on whatever I like!"  

Sigh.  So.....I'm doubling the money I spend (I spend less than $24 a month on her cigarettes) as a bribe?? LOL  How about staying off of oxygen as a prize?  How about being able to breathe better as a prize?  How about not stinking like nasty cigarettes as a prize?  LOL  It's like, I am not paying you to be healthier.  I am not paying you to stop stinking up my house (she smokes outside, but comes in and wanders around and stinks the up the house like cigarettes).  I am not paying you so I can have my windows open, FINALLY!  Yeah, no.  

But see, she knows I am going to say no.  She knows this.  She just wants to make me look like a jerk.  So, if she asks me, I will just smile and say "Well, we'll see."  and leave it at that.  

She has dementia (in case you didn't know).  Which is why I can't let her buy stuff on her own.  She gets to purchase whatever she likes, as long as it's not crazy, already.  I just have to buy it for her.  Otherwise she buys candy (she's diabetic) or buys some random weird shit online (like strange medication, etc.).  So yeah. it's not happening, but she has to try to fight me on things still. Even though she's given up fighting me on everything else.  

Why are they like this?  I mean, I know why, but why does NPD exist?  LOL  I really wish there was a cure.   

So my mother creates lots of lists.  She loves to make them.  And she leaves them out for me to see, or sometimes she hides them if she doesn't want me to know about them.  Recently she put Walgreens on her list.  If you're new here, then I will tell you, my mother is not allowed to go to Walgreens.  That store is her weakness.  She will beg for candy and buy $100 worth of random-ass items, which we cannot afford right now.  Though she's not allowed to eat candy, period.  She's diabetic and her blood sugar isn't under control very well (I am trying to get the docs to up her Metformin), but even if it was, all that sugary shit is why she's diabetic in the first place.  

Anyways, she thought she was going to be slick.  She thought she'd talk me into taking her there to get her flu and covid shots.  She asked, I said "You always go to the doctor to get your shots.  We never go there."  She replies "I prefer it there."  I said "You've never gotten one there, so how do you know?"  She says "Well, going to the doctor means I have to see the doctor."  And I said "No, you just see the nurse."  She said "But then you have to make an appointment and have to wait, blah blah blah.  At Walgreens, we can just go there."  I said "What's the difference to you?  You don't have to make the appointment.  Both ways you just walk in, get the shots, and leave.  So, what does it matter?"  She replies "I prefer it there."  Sigh.  So I said "You never used to get your flu shot, like at all. I had to force you to, mom.  So you've never once had it there.  I am not sure what's going on here."

She kept rambling some nonsensical stuff and then went to her room and said "Well, whichever you choose, both work!  I just want to get it done before it gets too late!" and shut her door.  

Here's the thing: I had NO idea what her plan was at that moment.  I literally was just thinking about getting shots.  My husband reminded me "Shay, your mom loves to spend tons of money at Walgreens, remember?  She's just trying to con you into going."  Then it all finally made sense.  

Of course she was.  

Duh.  

Because this all made zero sense to me, as she's never gotten shots there before (she's only ever gotten her covid shot from a doctor and I am pretty sure the same can be said about the flu shots I forced her to get).  So I just could not figure out why she was so adamant about going to Walgreens for this.  BUT, I will say, something did ding in my mind to tell me something was off.  Something told me "Do not agree to let her go!"  At the time, I didn't realize why my brain was telling me this, but deep down, I knew something was up.  And sure enough, I bet if I go look at her browser history, I will see her looking at Halloween candy at Walgreens LOL (and I checked, she did! haha!).  

Anyways, she has an appointment for bloodwork, so I am going to see if they can get her in for her vaccines, too, at the same time.  

Goes to show, even though your parent has been docile for a long time due to their failing memory and health, a narcissist will always take any opportunity to manipulate things to get their way.  Even though I prefer this stage of her life so far ;)  For now.  

She's down to 6 now.  Recently I had let her choose to lower the amount of cigarettes she's been smoking, but a month went by and she had done nothing.  So, I said to her "Nope, now it's MY turn, and I will keep lowering your cigarettes until there's zero."  See, she's been diagnosed with emphysema (a week from tomorrow is her recheck) and I told her, "You're going to end up on oxygen".  Well, she doesn't want that, but she's not made a single choice to quit.  We started at 10 (from 20 over a year ago) and now we're down to six.  

So, other day she says to me "I smoke only half cigarettes now.  But I can't make any more half cigarettes, so you better not lower them again."  I pulled a "mom" on her and made her stupid noise she loves to make at people when she thinks they're being stupid. It's like a "ha" sound, but louder.  Like a weird giggle.  And I said "Of course I will.  I will be cutting them down until you get to zero."  She said "You can't do that!"  I replied "Oh yes, I can and I will be doing that.  I already told you."  She says "I will do it myself.  I will cut myself down."  Methinks she forgot that she already tried that shit on me.  I laughed and said "No you won't.  I already let you do that.  And you didn't do anything at all.  I gave you an entire MONTH and you did nothing".  She said "Well, I was going to." I put down the plate I was washing and looked her straight in the face and said "No you were not.  You literally told me you weren't even going to try.  That you weren't going to worry about it right now.  So do not lie to me like that.  I know how much you love to lie to me."  

She said "What?"  So I said it louder for the people in the back "I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU LIKE TO LIE TO ME, MOM.  DO YOU NEED TO ME TO SAY IT LOUDER?"  She just shut the door (she was going to smoke).  She wasn't angry, as she doesn't get angry anymore.  She just knew she was beat and couldn't argue her "point" anymore.  So, we are down to six cigarettes.  I've bought her last bag of tobacco and I will be making the ENTIRE bag at once, so I can ration them out to get her to zero.  We are done with this.  I am done with this.  And now she will be a former smoker until she dies.  I can FINALLY have my windows open in the kitchen, for once.  Sigh.  I am very, very happy about this.  

Next week she needs a new ID to go to the appointment.  So, she will be getting her haircut and I will be getting her a new birth certificate so she can get her ID.  BUT in order to do that, I need to have her valid ID.  SIGH.  Why???  Ugh.  I am going to do a deep dive search for her license, but I don't think it's here.  Not sure where it went, but it's been missing for over a year.  So, I am not sure what to do.  

Anyways, I will contact them to see how this is going to work.  I will go there and ask questions first, and then I will come back with her and have everything ready.  But I need to get it all done ASAP so we can go to her appointment.  

But that's it for now.  It's Minecraft time with my family so I have to go.  

So I did it.  I got the nerve to ask for a new therapist.  And I got one.  And, well....

Yeah.  We'll see how this goes.  I am going to give her a chance.  But I get diarrhea of the mouth when I feel awkward or nervous and today I ran my mouth like crazy, while she sat there and watched.  

Here's the thing: she doesn't use facial expressions.  So I had no idea what she was feeling or thinking the whole time, which made me nervous as fuck.  So I ran my mouth.  She also kept watching my hands, because when I get this way, I talk with my hands.  And she kept making me feel like I was doing something wrong by staring at my hands while I spoke.  So I kept putting them in my lap.  

I don't know.  The last one talked too much about herself, this one doesn't really talk at all.  

Sigh.  

Why does this have to be so hard?  I am trying very hard not to obsess over this, but I am.  Ugh.  

I am just going to show up and see what happens.  

Also, she said she wants me to tell her when she's doing something I don't like and wanted to know if the other one I switched from told me to do the same thing.  I said no, she was too busy talking about herself LOL  But then she went on to say how much people don't like constructive criticism, so I got mixed signals there.  So, does she want me to tell her, even though she won't like it?  I found that weird.  

Anyways, she's not mean or anything.  So that's nice.  She's just VERY hard to read, which makes me nervous.  

And she kept looking at her watch.  

So the mixture of her looking at her watch a few times (she should have had a clock in the room), not really speaking to me, no emotions on her face at all, her staring at my hands when I spoke (not the whole time, but every time I did it her eyes would drift to my hands, which caused me to shove them in my lap), and her being more than a bit awkward with me, well it made me horribly self-conscious and now I can't stop thinking she found me annoying.  I mean, I get it.  I am annoying.  I guess. I've been told that my whole life.  But I don't like being reminded of it.  Esp. not by someone who's supposed to help me. 

Granted, she did seem super awkward when we started, so maybe she's just nervous?  That very well could be.  Though, I tend to think she found me tedious because at the end I said "I need to apologize, I have ADHD and sometimes I run my mouth."  And she didn't even respond or say I was fine or that it wasn't a big deal. Instead, she just made me a new appointment.  Which felt so freaking horrible in the moment.  I mean, all of this could be her own issues and may have had nothing to do with me, but still, how can she help me feel better if I feel worse when I leave her office?

I don't know.  I just need to go do something else for a bit and not think about it, because my RSD is kicking in and I feel pretty low right now.  I will go back, if I feel this bad every time I leave her office, I don't think it would be good for my mental health to keep seeing her (which may or may not be any fault of her own).  And if that's the case, I will just be done.  I guess I am not meant for therapy.  

I have never had a therapist make me cry before.  Or had one that made me feel so self-conscious.  I guess there is a first for everything.  

I sure wish more people like me were therapists.  Ones with empathy.  Ones with real tools.  Ones with an open heart and mind and soul.  Friendly ones.  Friendly and effective.  I am too friendly and too ADHD to be an effective therapist myself.  This I know.  But I sure wish more had personalities like mine.  

Sigh.  

I really hate change.  I really hate this uncomfortable annoying space we find ourselves when we lose something we're used to, like a doctor or a therapist or whatever.  You finally find one you can tolerate and bam, they are gone, and now you're in limbo, trying out all the other ones until you find the right one.  I will say I finally found the right OBGYN, so that makes me happy <3  I just hope she stays.  

Okay, I need go through my library books now so I can bring them back.  

My son let it spill to my mother that he and his brother and I went to eat for my youngest son's birthday.  Which I hate him sharing ANY info about our lives with her, as she will take it and whine that she wans't invited, etc. blah blah blah.  But he added "Oh and mom didn't eat anything and had to sit and watch us eat."  

Oh I was livid.  I turned to him and whispered "SHUTUP!"  He felt so horrible, but I wasn't angry with him, I just felt humiliated.  

See, my mom has abused me for my entire life because I don't like to eat in public.  I have severe panic attacks about it and always have.  YET she will drag me to restaurants in order to abuse me about it.  She will humiliate me and pick on me and make fun of me.  And that's the only reason she ever wanted me to go with her.  She could have taken my kids alone out to eat, but no, she always put me on the spot and forced me to go.  And I always went.  I shouldn't have, but I did.  

"But you shouldn't put yourself in a position to be abused!"  No, she shouldn't have abused me.  And tell that a severely anxious person who has agoraphobia who can't be home alone.  And tell that to a codependent person who used to think she couldn't live without her mother (funny, I don't even remember what the felt like).  I had my reasons why I always went with.  I sometimes felt fine and could eat.  And I never knew how I'd feel until I got there.  

But that's not why I didn't eat this time.  I didn't eat because I couldn't.  I can't eat normal food.  Ever since my sickness almost a year ago I can't a large amount of different food and/or spices.  I can't eat fruit at all (other than blueberries).  I can't eat acidic, spicy, or tangy foods.  I can't eat tomatoes, peppers, onions, garlic.  I can finally eat celery again.  Something happened to my stomach when I got bacterial food poisoning and covid together.  My stomach, my mouth, my throat, my tongue, my bladder, and urethra.  They are all severely irritated and can't handle many foods.  So, we went to a ramen place and I just had white rice.  It was okay.  I could barely eat that due to my anxiety, but I couldn't even order anything to take home.  I feel bad, my son's birthday and I had to sit and watch them eat (well, we all were chatting, so it was okay).  

And then my son just let it all spill out of his mouth to my mother.  I don't get why we do that (I mean, it's ADHD).  I do the same thing sometimes, but I've learned with my mom to keep my mouth shut.  So, now, I have to say "We don't tell grandma about what we did today!"  And they both agree "I know, Mom!"  That way it helps to keep him from accidently not thinking and just saying stuff to her.  

My mom is NOT my safe person.  She's not anyone's safe person.  She's conniving and abusive.  My son is at the point in life where he sometimes forgets this. I used to be at that point, too.  But it took me a few years to finally get to a safe space with her, where I say nothing at all about anything in my life.  He will get there one day, too, but by then, her memory will be shot, so it won't matter. 

Growing up, I had a complicated relationship with food.  I loved sweets.  Too much.  And my mom would regularly make these weird-ass (but tasty) chocolate chip cookies constantly.  And I would gorge myself on them.  And she would shame me for it.  I also liked to stir my ice cream to make soft serve, and she would tell me how gross it was.  She also made tons of food I hated.  On purpose knowing I hated it.  Like steak.  She made that every single Saturday.  She never made me anything else to eat instead.  She knew I despised steak.  And how she made it.  I hated roast.  Which is what we had every Sunday.  Friday was fish, something I also didn't really like.  She would make Hamburger Helper at least once a week.  Also, she made "braised beef" which was literally just ground hamburger (with a side of mashed potatoes and corn).  Mashed potatoes were ALWAYS out of the box.  And corn was always canned (yuck!).  She sometimes made hamburgers and once in a great while she made tacos, which were my favorite.  OMFG the tuna casserole....talk about barf in a casserole dish!  Her hamburgers were always HUGE in the middle and skinny on the sides.  They tasted like shit (she would put onion soup mix in them).  Her cooking was the quintessential 1950's TV dinner on a plate style of meals.  Boring.  Bland.  Gross.  Oh and Encor meals!  Those were a once a week thing.  Veal Parmigiana, canned potatoes and canned asparagus.  Veal.  Which was nasty.  Eventually they switched to chicken and that was better.  

I ate the same things, every single week, for years and years and years on end.  Hardly anything made from scratch.  Most things were out of a box or a can.  It was like eating your food rations rather than home cooked meals.  I, myself, didn't learn how to actually cook until I was almost 30 and I became vegetarian.  Which pissed off my mom.  

Growing up, I was told "Eat it or starve."  So I chose starving most days.  I went to school so hungry that I was on the verge of puking every single day before lunch (because I had the late lunch).  I got a PB&J for lunch every single day.  Which only spiked my blood sugar and sent me crashing when school let out.  My snacks were all sugar based.  I was actually hungry, but she fed me more sugar.  Then dinner came and it was nasty old food again, which I hardly ate.  So, I became extremely addicted to carbs and sugar growing up, and it fucked with my blood sugar.  And at age 18, I started passing out.

I also started a cycle of not eating when I turned 15, because all that sugar caught up with me (and my weight) and my mom started shaming because we had to buy me size 12 clothing in middle school and supposedly that was a big deal (we had to shop in the PLUS section! OMG!).  My mom is fat.  Remember that. 

So, I never really ate my dinners, unless she actually gave me something I liked.  And so I filled up constantly on junk all day.  And by the time breakfast came around, I felt so horribly sick from not eating the night before and then I'd be super fucked up until lunch.  Sometimes I had good lunches, but they were rare.  Like after Thanksgiving I would get turkey sandwiches.  Those would sustain me.  But other than that, I just got sugar laden crap.  

Have you heard of second breakfasts amongst the hobbits?  Well my mother had second dinners.  Every single night at midnight she would get out of bed and an entire second dinner.  Corn on the cob.  More chicken.  More potatoes. Or whatever we had that night.  I, on other hand, would only join her when it was corn on the cob, but anything I never wanted.  I was hungry (though she would feed me ice cream before bed almost every night...like HEAPING bowls for the both of us), but I didn't want more of food I didn't like at dinner time.  I wasn't allowed to eat cereal or and a sandwich or anything.  It was dinner or nothing. One time, she actually served me my dinner the next day for breakfast, a la Mommie Dearest style (he favorite movie).  

When she got custody of her stepdaughters after their father died (the kids were the same ages as my kids), those two girls were and thin as rails.  But literally only after a few months with my mother (like six) both girls became hefty.  Like, the one girl had never been anything but skinny in her life.  How did she do it?  She was like that old witch in Stephen King's "Thinner" except her magical power was grazing your face the the back of her nasty fingers while saying "fatter".  And just like that BOOM, you're fat.  She did it to me and now to two other girls.  So, obviously it wasn't us.  The only common denominator here was her and her carb/sugar loading diets she feeds to children.  

The kids were lucky to go back with their mother (though, so was my family) and now neither one of them is chubby (not like being chubby is wrong, it just shows that wasn't their body types).  

My mother is the voodoo priestess of sugar and fatness.  And apparently, my blood sugar issues.  

Not only that, growing up, I used to have to sit at the dinner table while my parents smacked each other.  It used to make my stomach turn, which why eating usually makes me want to vomit, esp. in public.  They would drag me to a dimly lit restaurant (which used to fuck with my eyes, I hated it so much) and would be drunk off their asses and make me watch them eat (because I refused to eat, because I never knew what they were going to do next).  So they are to blame for this issue I have with eating in public.  And yet, my mother would harass me, shame me, humiliate me, and pick on me for it every single time.  

And this is why I don't let my mother anywhere near me when it comes to food.

Before we moved in here, I was better.  I could eat in burger joints.  I could sometimes eat in restaurants.  I was getting over some of my issues with food.  BUT THEN we moved in here and it ALL came rushing back.  Why?  Because of her.  She somehow thought this was my childhood home and she was going to call all the shots and she was going use her time at the dinner table to drive me back to every single eating disorder and food issue I had thought I was over.  I got to the point that dinner time was sooooooo anxiety inducing, I had stopped eating.  Again.  

So, I made a decision: I was going to eat in my room.  But she made a HUGE deal about that and got my family to shame for me it.  Not that they knew what they were doing.  No, they were like "Why are you being like this??  Grandma is making it hell for all of us!"  And my food issues got even worse.  But I held my ground.  I refused to eat with her.  

Then, my prayers were answered: her doc wanted to do surgery on her foot and I forced them to put her into rehab.  And for four months, I created a life where her life and our lives were separate.  She now had to eat alone.  And all of her cat paraphrenia was in her room.  All of her decor was in her room.  I replaced her curtains and the shower curtain with my own.  I removed her from my life, because I was going to end up in the looney bin if I didn't.  

She did not like it, and she pushed back, but no longer did I have to eat at table with her.  Hell, I didn't have to eat at a table at all (it gives me PTSD).  I no longer had to put up with anyone remarking on why I was eating what I was eating or when I was eating it or why I wasn't eating a certain thing or "what is wrong with my cooking?" if I didn't clean my plate.  All of that stress was gone.  

And it has been for three years.  But I still can't eat in restaurants anymore.  Even if I could eat what's on their menu, I still want to barf when the food is placed in front of me.  Even when it's just a plate of steamed white rice (which was the only thing on the menu I knew I could eat).  And that she stole from me.  I was doing better.  I was healing.  And she stopped that from happening and sent me backwards.  I will work on it again, but not until my mouth and stomach are healed.  For now, I will just have to live with it.  

So, that's why I was upset that he told her.  I wasn't angry, I just was freaking out.  She didn't say anything though.  But you know she was thinking it.  

Anyways, I hope I am better one day so I can take my kids out for a family dinner with all four of us and I will be able to eat again.  Even if it's just at a our local burger joint (though, I may try that soon).  

God.  I can't wait until she's in a home and I can work on my own BS again without the anxiety of her mucking it all up.  One day.  

My new therapist and I have finished my intake interview.  Finally.  After THREE sessions.  Ugh.  And now my first actual appointment is with her.  And I am scared to ask for a new therapist.  Even though I know for 100% fact I don't want to see her again.  There is a little voice inside of me that says "But what if you're wrong?  What if you're being rash?  What if you're being too picky?  What if you're just an idiot and she's actually really nice?"  I know none of these things are true.  I know this.  I am a good judge of character and every single person I give the benefit of the doubt, I am always right about.  Every single person I say "what if?" to, I always end up realizing that I was right to begin with.  So, why do I not just trust that?  Why do I second-guess myself?  

Because everyone second guesses me.  Everyone tells me I am too rash in my judgement of others.  But don't they see I am normally right?  Don't they end up always telling me "Boy, I should have listened to you, you were right!"?  Yes.  They do.  So, why do I let them get into my head?  And why am I listening to that little voice inside my own head?  Because I don't want to be an asshole.  Today, she wasn't so bad.  I mean, she was, but I kept quiet more.  When I did talk, she'd interrupt me, AND then talk over me so much I can't interrupt her back so I can finish my thought and then sometimes she'll change the subject before I can speak again.  Sigh.  So, I didn't say much.  

When I am allowed to speak, she almost never responds to what I say, and instead relates something back to herself instead.  So again, it's like I am in a one-sided conversation with myself.  And I do not like the way it makes me feel.  And in the beginning, when I told her the certain things I do not like that therapists do, she said "Well, be prepared, I do those things."  And I am thinking like "WELL DON'T!!"  Like for one, she never writes down what your homework is.  And I am thinking "Well, then I will never do it, because you won't freaking remember what it is.  I could just lie about it."  LOL  

And today, she asked "What do you think will hamper your therapy  with us?"  Meaning, what I could do, as a client, to block my own therapy.  I wanted to say "You."  Or "A bad therapist."  But I didn't.  I just said "I can't think of anything."  She gave me the vibe that she didn't believe me.  And she puts a LOT of words into my mouth and does it regularly.  I wanted my response to that to be:

HAHAHAHAHA NOPE!  

I was 100% right about her and now I am annoyed I have to see her one more time to do the rest of my assessment.  Sigh.  Oh well, after that I will ask for a new one.  I've seen her twice now (assessment only, no therapy) and dis bitch interrupts me and talks about herself or her kid or whoever, and instead of letting me finish, she just finishes what she has to say and then changes the subject!  I CANNOT STAND THAT SHIT!  I would really hate it if she were my friend, but my therapist?  HA!  The whole point is me to be there to express myself and instead she's stopping me and relating something to herself or her family.  She does it with EVERYTHING and has the fucking NERVE to bash other therapists who do the same thing LMAO  Sigh.  What is wrong with people?  Ugh.  

Well, one more time and then I'll be requesting a new one.  

Ugh.  I should be given a choice, rather than being assigned to someone.  How freaking annoying.  I hope the next one is nice.  Sigh.  

I have to remember she's not the same person she was a year ago.  I just don't want to be surprised if she were to do something inappropriate, know what I mean?  I get that she's not the same person anymore, but that doesn't mean she won't revert back at any given moment.  

Okay, so what's going on here is that my son wants his own bedroom.  And my bedroom is smaller than the living room, where he has his bedroom right now.  He doesn't need the entire living room as his room, but my husband and I do.  My son wants privacy, and my bedroom has tons of that.  And everything about this exchange of room is 100% win-win, minus the fact that you have to walk through the living to get out the front door.  And my mom will abuse the shit out of that the minute she knows we're changing rooms.  She's not allowed in my room, she's not allowed to open my door and I've worked on that with her until she finally understood.  I worked hard on that.  And now, it will all just be thrown out the window the minute she knows she can walk through to get out front.  

My son's room used to be in the basement, but it flooded and ruined all his stuff, so he moved upstairs to the living room.  Now, the living room has a lock on it.  So that's something.  But during the day I can't lock my door all day long.  

I did come up with a partial solution: they make ceiling curtain runners that you can shape however you like on your ceiling and you get floor to ceiling curtains and bam!  Wall divider!  

BUT I will lock my door when I am sleeping and when we leave the house.  Because we need to build this boundary in our house that says that the living room is no longer the living room, it's our bedroom and we need to treat it as so.  And the front door?  Is the door that's in our room to leave the house.  If people need to leave the house out the front when we're gone?  They need to use the garage door.  It won't be easy getting it through people's heads, but that's going to be the way it has to be.  The front room is OUR room and is NOT the throughway to the front.  The kids can use it, but my mother cannot.  She's not allowed in our room and that's not going to change just because we move rooms.  

I have a system in my mind setup for how we'll take her garbage for her (her own kitchen bin) and we'll be changing the kitchen around as well.  So that way she can't just bust into our room for taking out garbage.  

Because I am telling you right now, I am NOT starting over again.  She's NOT coming into the room or opening our door, ever.  Unless she's leaving the house with us, and our curtain will be pulled.  

This feels like we'll be starting over again.  But I think we have enough boundaries set into place to keep her at bay.  At least I hope so.  

After you read all of those, you'll know why I made this song: 

I hope you like it.  I sure do.  Happy Halloween, friends <3