Sigh….
Sigh….I just don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what to do or how to feel for the matter. This time around, it just feels different.
My brother and I brought her to the doctor on Tuesday. Something just had to be done.
She had steadily lost her nerve throughout the week, going from bad to worse. Again, on numerous occasions, I came home to a house left in darkness with the doors left totally ajar. As I walked into the house, I spotted her sitting down in her room, without her shirt. She said she was doing her things, and that she just hasn’t come around to closing the doors yet.
I sent her out to buy groceries, since she agreed to cook a meal for us during dinner. She left for an hour before coming back, all ruffled and disturbed. I discovered that she was arrested by the supermarket staff for shoplifting. I asked if she intentionally tried to steal things (it was a melon), she said she wasn’t even sure what happen. It was an accident she said. She was just carrying the melon around, and they just arrested her, or so she said. Whether she tried to steal it or not, the fact remained that she walked out of the store without paying for it.
She would break into tears one minute at even the slightest thing, and start screaming at us the next, and then back to crying again, then suddenly turn happy.
I felt that she needed injection, but we gave her our word that we would let the doctor decide. Doctor gave her one last chance, with 1 week medication of a new drug, supposed with minimal side effects, to her liking. I was sceptical, and I made her promise the doctor as well as us that she would take her medication daily, but only after the doctor caution hospitalization as the alternative did she agree.
But as I said, she lost her nerve, and her swings continued to be as quick and as varied even after seeing the doctor.
That night, we had dinner with her, and she obediently took the medication. But 3 hours later, she was gone again.
I’m not sure when she sneaked out of the house. I was in my room, door closed trying to get work done. I went for a drink, her door was ajar, lights off with the fan still running. I peered in for a closer look, and that was when I discovered that she was in fact gone.
But this time, it just feels so different. For one, she sneaked out of the house when I was around. Secondly, unlike previous times, she left without bringing her cash. Her purse was still there, and I thought perhaps she just went out for a walk again, but her absent bag told otherwise.
That was Tuesday night, and till today there is no news from her. I keep opening the front door, wondering if perhaps she is outside the house sitting, waiting for someone to open the door, but she’s never there. I keep opening the door; half hoping that she would be there. To be frank, this time I am worried. Previous times, she would call within a few days, and she would always head for one place; up north. But she just had an escape there barely 2 weeks ago, why would she want to go again? I think by now, even she knows there’s nothing there for her.
The next night, alone in my room, I wrote an angry letter to God (its true!) asking Him just what on earth was He up to this time. Blasphemy I know, but I was just so upset over the whole matter. Give me a break for God’s sake! Ops…. I mean give me a break for my sake…. Its barely halfway through January, and already so much drama! More importantly, give her a break. I think even God knows she needs one. Just how long is she going to suffer on like this? I asked why He has chosen to give her such a hard life, with so much suffering and pain, with little blessing to count. Why has He blessed others with such carefree and easy life, even when they live for no one but themselves? Even in her insanity, even at the verge of loosing her mind, my mother stubbornly clings on to the Bible and its teachings, even if she gets confused sometimes. She brought her bible along with her when we went to see the doctor, clinging on to it like it somehow gives her comfort. Is she not worthy of any blessings at all? Her mind is gone, but her heart is in the right place.
I know I complain a lot about the matter, but at least I get to complain. But what about my mother? She suffers in silence, in her own head, somewhere deep in her conscience, where sanity still lingers. She is the true victim in this entire ordeal. She struggles even after so many decades, to come to term with her illness. She stubbornly refuses to admit that she needs medication, which just makes it worse. She longs so much just to be like everyone else, healthy, able in body and mind. It is this burning desire of hers that has kept her alive all these years alone, with that fierce fighting spirit. Yet, that same spirit prevents her from admitting the need for medication.
I find myself caught in an impossible situation. You cant live with them, can’t live without them. That has never hold so true for me than right now when it comes to my mother. When she is around, she is ill, life really seems unbearable. Having to put up with her attacks and at the same time care for her, having to be stern and controlling of her, yet preserve her dignity and freedom to do as she wishes is really a challenge. It’s a full time job; one I am ill equipped to handle, emotionally and mentally.
In some ways, I wish I was the crazy one instead. For all the wrong that I have done in this life, for all the hurtful things I have said and done to her and to those I love, I should be the one loosing my mind, not her. Why her? Why my mother? A person who has been passionate about God ever since her university days, who actively tried to spread the good word to others, who cried so hard when she heard that her aunt died before she managed to save her soul. Why not me? Why can’t I take her place? Me, who goes to church once a year, only during Christmas, who claims to be Christian but never pray. Selfish me; who goes on and on about his own misery, not realising that it is really her that suffers.
I don’t know what compelled her to run away this time. The manner in which she left this time makes me more worried than usual. In her state of mind, she can hardly take care of herself, and she hasn’t called. A concerned friend asked me to pray for her safe return. Usually, I leave the praying part to other more qualified people, but this time, for the sake of my mother, perhaps it’s about time I get down on my knees and have a long overdue conversation with the man upstairs
posted by Compulsive Blogger @ 4:12 pm
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