Forthnights

Words of An Agnostic

I feel so heavy deep inside. I feel disturbed and not at ease. For the past two days, I have had to forcefully feed my mother her medication.

The first day, she locked herself in the room, and was being very aggressive towards me. I lost my temper and scolded her, and in return, she screamed at me, talking a lot of nonsense, not properly answering what I was asking her. I took her medication and asked her to take it, but she refused. She said it was poison and that the doctor has reduced her dosage. The problem is, the doctor actually increased back her dosage after we consulted him on the deterioration of her behavior recently. But she denied it, saying she spoke personally to the doctor. I threatened he, told her to take her medication or else we would admit her to the hospital, but she remained defiant. I said ill stuff it down her throat if I had to, but even then, she still outright refused to take it. Finally, I quietly crushed her medicine, put it in a mug of milo and asked her to drink it. She quietly obeyed and was quiet for the rest of the night.

Yesterday, I came back, and she was still behaving abnormally. She was in a cranky mood, and I knew she didn’t take her medication. But I couldn’t find her medication, I knew she had hid it away somewhere. I asked her where is it, not wanting to accuse her just yet. She denied knowing anything, but from the way she acted, I knew she hid it away. I deliberately placed her medicine bag on the table and now it was gone. I became very angry, I told her to stop playing the fool with me and take the medicine out. She refused, so I started going through all her bags and drawers looking for the medicine. She started shouting at me, asking me not to touch her things and how she shouldn’t have come down this time. I found it in her bag, and by that time I was seriously loosing it. I slammed the bag on the floor and asked her what the hells was this. She denied putting it inside her bag. I said “God must have put in there izit?” She said “Yes” and I said “Which God is your God then? Satan?” I said to her that she was a liar, daring to lie right to my face, and now, even when she was caught red handed, she still dared to deny it. I told her “Up until 2 weeks ago, you have been trust worthy. But now, I can no longer trust you. You have lost my trust and my confidence, and I am very disappointed with you.:”

From that point on, I just totally lost my cool. Not many people have seen me in rage before, and neither does it happen often, but I feel horrible that it did. I made the cup of milo, crushed the medicine and gave it to her. This time, she knew that there was medicine in it, but I was in a very very foul, very very aggressive mood by then. I took her bag, and she tried to snatch it from me. I pushed her away and pried the bag from her fingers. I went to the living room, and she threw the phone we gave her to the ground. She came near me a few times, trying to get her things back from me, but I yelled at her and said “You stay away from me NOW if you know what’s good for you.” I was trying to gather all her medicine from inside her bag, knowing that she might have hid some inside it. She still charged at me and she hit me right on the face with her right fist. I felt the blood reach boiling point inside me. I said to her “Come on, hit me again then, hit me again!” But she refused, so I grabbed her fist and banged it on my head. I let go of her hand and gave her a slap. Yes, I gave her a slap. My own mother.

She just sat on the floor after that, and I let her be, organizing the medicines that she hid away, trying to look for a few medications unaccounted for. That was the end of the violence. My left cheek was swollen after that, but there was something aching even harder. It was my heart.

For at those moments, I had become a monster. I was almost totally out of control, my rage so deep that I wasn’t sure if I calm down. I was angry, I was frustrated. I was ashamed. I hated what I did instantly, but still unable to control my rage. Later, my girlfriend tried to sooth me, asking me if I was ok. I know she realized just how angry I was. You can hardly ever see me shouting or being very rough and aggressive, but I that was what happened. I was very rough with my mother, I was very aggressive and I was shouting my lungs out at her or talking in a very cold and steely voice.

When I eventually calmed down, I felt horrible and I felt just so frustrated. I wasn’t in much of a mood anymore, not wanting to do or say much, but I still had tuition to give. So I swallowed my frustration, swallowed my anger and went to teach.

I dread going home now. Not knowing just what might happen at home. I know my mother cannot be blamed for what she does. She is after all, she is mentally ill. I fear that I will totally loose my temper again. I fear that I become abusive. This cannot go on, for my own sake and for her own sake.

I was told recently that I’m not a Christian, but a free-thinker. An atheist, an agnostic. I’m not sure if I am an atheist or and agnostic, but maybe that person is right, maybe I should stop trying to calling myself a Christian. A person is defined by what they do, not what they say or think, and there certainly nothing Christian about how I have been acting. I do not go to Church, I do not pray, I do not go for fellowship and I don’t practice Christian principles. I may talk the part, but I have not walked the path.

posted by Compulsive Blogger @ 3:54 pm Comments: 1