The stress in my househld is about to do me in!
Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2015 8:16 pm
Perhaps I should take this into the chatroom, but I have a hard time getting the details off my chest in a dialogue.
Lately, Ive realized that my attempts to lose weight have gone in the opposite direction. I can't let this happen, my wheelchair is at the limit for the doors in my house. The only benefit to my being retired due to disability is that there aren't enough areas in my life to confuse the causes of my stress eating: heartbreak (I was recently crushed by judgmental assumptions from people I thought were trusted friends), and misery in my household.
I've been wheelchair bound for about seven years now (nerve damage). I count my blessings, as in that I get just enough financial assistance and healthcare, and am not in constant pain. Of course, I have limitations, but Ive been able, for the most part, to turn my lemons into lemonade.
I rent a bedroom in my childhood home from my mom, an 80-year-old widow who's also wheelchair bound (extreme arthritis). I like to think that my disability helps me understand some of what she feels, and that being as independent as I can will help her not give up on hers. That is an ongoing struggle, but its not the main cause of my stress.
The stress comes from my older sister, who moved back in with us after losing her job and running through her savings. For years, she has campaigned to convince anyone who will listen that our mother is a dottering, senile, old woman. When anyone but me is there to hear her, shes sugary sweet to us; otherwise, she yells at us, especially our mom.
Three weeks ago, she received an answer to her prayers: my moms' doctor said she is suffering from the beginning stage of dementia (she's losing short term memory; I'm helping her remember to take her medication, and keep track of her bills). Big Sis is taking full advantage of it ("Yes, Mom, you don't remember, but you promised to lend me $20").
Another issue is that my mother suffers from incontinence. As a user of both a urinal and adult diapers, I sympathize. Big Sis, on the other hand, treats Mom like a criminal. The heifer threw out an expensive measuring cup of mine because she assumed the water left over from my washing strawberries was urine, and the cup was "contaminated." There's a three square foot patch of carpet in our living room that has gone from soft, dark green to yellow straw because Big Sis nightly pours baking soda and vinegar there to cover Moms' occasional leakage. Today, I put a rug to cover the spot until Mom and I can afford to have it professionally cleaned or removed, but Big Sis is complaining about that.
I'm very grateful for HIPPA laws. Big Sis wants to manage our healthcare, but her true motivation seems to be to get attention (she even puts on her resume that she's taking care of us!). She wants Mom to change doctors because her diabetes has not been cured. I have people I don't know approaching me with unsolicited advice because of her telling them what she suspects about my benefits and medical visits.
Every day, I hear my sister yelling at Mom. Every day, I see the misery in Mom's face, and it's tearing me up. She's always been there for us; even now, she's putting a roof over our heads, but my sister, who finally has a part time job, balks at my suggestion that we pay Moms' annual property taxes (her half comes to 1/10th of her takehome pay).
I hope that getting this off my chest will be the first step in defending myself against this stress. Thanks for reading.
Lately, Ive realized that my attempts to lose weight have gone in the opposite direction. I can't let this happen, my wheelchair is at the limit for the doors in my house. The only benefit to my being retired due to disability is that there aren't enough areas in my life to confuse the causes of my stress eating: heartbreak (I was recently crushed by judgmental assumptions from people I thought were trusted friends), and misery in my household.
I've been wheelchair bound for about seven years now (nerve damage). I count my blessings, as in that I get just enough financial assistance and healthcare, and am not in constant pain. Of course, I have limitations, but Ive been able, for the most part, to turn my lemons into lemonade.
I rent a bedroom in my childhood home from my mom, an 80-year-old widow who's also wheelchair bound (extreme arthritis). I like to think that my disability helps me understand some of what she feels, and that being as independent as I can will help her not give up on hers. That is an ongoing struggle, but its not the main cause of my stress.
The stress comes from my older sister, who moved back in with us after losing her job and running through her savings. For years, she has campaigned to convince anyone who will listen that our mother is a dottering, senile, old woman. When anyone but me is there to hear her, shes sugary sweet to us; otherwise, she yells at us, especially our mom.
Three weeks ago, she received an answer to her prayers: my moms' doctor said she is suffering from the beginning stage of dementia (she's losing short term memory; I'm helping her remember to take her medication, and keep track of her bills). Big Sis is taking full advantage of it ("Yes, Mom, you don't remember, but you promised to lend me $20").
Another issue is that my mother suffers from incontinence. As a user of both a urinal and adult diapers, I sympathize. Big Sis, on the other hand, treats Mom like a criminal. The heifer threw out an expensive measuring cup of mine because she assumed the water left over from my washing strawberries was urine, and the cup was "contaminated." There's a three square foot patch of carpet in our living room that has gone from soft, dark green to yellow straw because Big Sis nightly pours baking soda and vinegar there to cover Moms' occasional leakage. Today, I put a rug to cover the spot until Mom and I can afford to have it professionally cleaned or removed, but Big Sis is complaining about that.
I'm very grateful for HIPPA laws. Big Sis wants to manage our healthcare, but her true motivation seems to be to get attention (she even puts on her resume that she's taking care of us!). She wants Mom to change doctors because her diabetes has not been cured. I have people I don't know approaching me with unsolicited advice because of her telling them what she suspects about my benefits and medical visits.
Every day, I hear my sister yelling at Mom. Every day, I see the misery in Mom's face, and it's tearing me up. She's always been there for us; even now, she's putting a roof over our heads, but my sister, who finally has a part time job, balks at my suggestion that we pay Moms' annual property taxes (her half comes to 1/10th of her takehome pay).
I hope that getting this off my chest will be the first step in defending myself against this stress. Thanks for reading.