In yesterday's post, I recounted how mother dear has been on a jewelry bender and has strewn finest gold from one side of the living room to the other.
I haven't put any of it away because the obsession has to run its course. If I put it away, she would just drag it all back out, so I save myself the trouble and resulting aggravation. After three years of doing this caregiver gig, ya kinda get the hang of what/what not to do.
Today I'm sitting on the couch which has bracelets covering the center cushion.
Mom: [Pointing to the jewelry.] I'd like to know who got this all out?
Me: You did.
Mom: Oh sure, why am I always to blame?
This is a recurring theme. I need to get better in tune so I can get ahead of her in the conversation. It's like she's looking for an argument.
Me: Okaaaaaay, I did it.
Mom: Don't get smart with me.
Yup, it was too late. If I had said it was me from the start it would have thrown her off track. Instead, I was too far in before I realized what was going on.
Whenever you tell her she did something — and of course she doesn't remember because she doesn't remember anything — she gets defensive like you're blaming her for something she didn't do. She did it, you just can't convince her.
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FWIW, I get blamed for all manner of things that I either didn't do or had any idea had happened.
Paranoia and delusions combined with a failing memory make for some very bizarre conversations at our house.
Don't you miss having a cogent conversation with the adult that you used to have those kind of conversations with? I sure do.
I've realized that I just can't take it personally anymore...even tho' that is my gut response.
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