Brother didn't say "Happy Mother's Day"


#1

I don’t even know where to begin. My mother is schizophrenic. she blames herself for being a “bad mother”. she beats herself up over one specific (rare) instance where she lost it and beat my brother with a shovel handle, because he was starting to rob houses and get involved with gangs when they lived in Alabama and she was at a loss about what to do. Apparently he sat there, un-phased, looking at her like “are you done yet?” My brother is lazy and arrogant and selfish. He only cares about what he can get from others, and since he can’t milk our mother for anything he wants, she’s practically nothing to him. (he did just take her to Hawaii several months ago with his free miles as he works for an airline, but she had to beg him) every tiny mole hill is turned into a friggin mountain. She’s always reading too much into every tiny little thing.

Case in point. she was already in a state because my brother failed to even click a button on facebook to automatically send her the standard happy mother’s day greeting. She was trying to cuddle with her new Chihuahua to calm down. She just got it a few months ago. She was rescued from birthing at a puppy mill. As she was clawing and grasping at the dog, sobbing and being loud and scaring the poor thing, it growled at her. she threatened to choke the dog then shoved the thing off her bed. She couldn’t shut up the rest of the night about how that dog was evil. Ohh, look at this creepy backwards note “she” wrote “herself”.

She also argues with herself occasionally about me.

“Daniel is a demon”

“Would you shut up with that bullsh*t? Daniel is not a demon!”

“Daniel IS a demon”

“God damn it, would you stop!?”

I feel extremely helpless when she gets like that. Another of her favorites is making sobbing noises, moaning and groaning even when she’s not even upset or in pain. It’s automatic and it makes her feel better, but it makes me feel like there’s absolutely nothing I can do to help her at all. All I want to do is help her, but i don’t know what to do. i ask her what I can do, but she always acts like everything is a pointless waste of time. I hate schizophrenia. I never got a mother and I have to take care of this retarded psychotic person who over reacts to every tiny little thing. Another day, another existential crisis. I’m autistic myself and had no consistent guidance growing up being bounced around the foster care system.

I try my best to treat her well, but sometimes when she’s crying over something stupid or she busts every bubble or finds fault with every helpful Idea I come up with or assumes something is “too complicated for her to figure out” even when it’s designed for small children to be able to understand, I get frustrated. I just hate to see her absolutely torturing herself all the time. It’s torture for me to have to live with it, but she’s suffering worse so I feel like my emotions and needs don’t count for anything.

Every tiny little thing that anyone does or doesn’t do, is ammo for her f*cking voices. I’m at a loss. I do all I can to prevent putting any kind of stress on her, yet she always finds a way to be stressed beyond comprehension. she puts the weight of the entire world on her shoulders. sometimes I just want to call her a self-important martyr, but she doesn’t choose to be absolutely deluded that everything in the universe is her fault.

We both need to be in a care facility, but they’ll take all of our money, and no weed, the only thing that helps her deal with the voices in her experience.


#2

I hear you. Your emotions do count, you are making a huge sacrifice to take care of your mom.


#3

Living w a sz loved one is difficult and tries your patience.
My advice is to don’t worry about your brother. You can’t change him. Just know not to expect too much from him.
Also, look after the puppy!
Why do you need a care facility?


#4

Well QuestionYourSanity. I hope that felt good to get all that out. Welcome to the forum.

This is incredibly hard stuff we’re all dealing with. You didn’t cause it. You can’t fix it.

Keeping sharing your horror story if it helps you, and know that you’re not alone. Breathe.