native cunning – Shrinking Horizons

I think I could be in need of a padded cell or at the very least a padded wall to bang my head against. Last night the LSO finally had had enough of the deliberate provocation being displayed by the AP and told her that if she didn’t like or want to live here that it was time she went into a care home. He told her she was making our lives a misery and making me ill and that he had finally had enough of her and the whole situation. He even told her what was wrong too. I am cutting a long story short but it really was such a trivial matter that created the problem in the first place and it doesn’t warrant a discussion. But what does is the AP’s unbelievable reaction this morning.

She is absolutely fine she announced when I took her breakfast in and everything that had been said had obviously been conveniently forgotten or swept under the carpet, that is if she even understood a word of what was said last night. The AP isn’t suffering from dementia, although her short term memory is shot to pieces but she is very cunning and manipulative. Her powers of comprehension are definitely waning too except when it comes to money and whether she has won anything on the lottery.

Lunch was a quiet affair with a smattering of talk about the snooker final she will watch this afternoon and nothing was said about her leaving/staying/attitude etc. She obviously has no intention of going anywhere and we have to hope that she understands the thin ice she is standing on although somehow I doubt it. I have little to say to her, she clearly has no concerns about me and is locked in her own small selfish world. Sad really because for me I no longer have any deep feelings for her and certainly there will be no fond memories when she finally departs. I don’t even want to be in the same room with her and am beginning to fight an active dislike of this self centred person who was once my mother.

All this because we thought we were doing the right thing nearly five years ago. Five years of our lives on hold at a time when we should be free spirits and enjoying the twilight years. How utterly naive and stupid we were.

Always in life there is are imaginary lines that are there in everything we do. The lines have a number of functions, some are warnings but sometimes they can encourage development. So which line am I standing in front of today?

Yesterday evening was a fine example of the AP dominating the conversation all evening with endless stories of the past. the LSO and I have heard them many times and tend to turn off to them. Each time they get a bit more muddled and embellished becoming a stream of endless drivel. The AP managed to have an inevitable dig at me but only succeeded in making herself look silly and causing me to mentally back off even further.

At the moment she is pretending to our visitor that she can see but because I attend all her sight tests I know exactly what the AP can and cannot see. I had to finally leave the room especially when a comment was made about wonderful teachers who make a difference to their students. She then went into a long diatribe about a teacher ninety years ago who apparently also taught my cousin and remembered my mother as this hugely clever girl. I suppose we all feel the need to blow our own trumpets occasionally. The AP seems to have chosen to forget that I had been a teacher for thirty five years and I was good at my job. It’s difficult to know whether she means to demean me or is just becoming plain daft. I would prefer to think the latter but sadly when I hear her conversing with people I realise that she still possesses some native cunning that manifests itself in a sly nastiness. It is hard to understand my mother’s desire for superiority, why is it that she cannot accept her own short comings? Why can she not appreciate what she has instead of making our lives a misery?

I guess the line I am crossing at the moment is one of disinterest and detachment and sadly I am heading towards thoroughly disliking the AP. I am finding it hugely difficult to make an effort with her and am instead retreating into my shell which I know is not the right solution to the problem. I can but hope that crossing this particular line will help me to survive, I feel I am drowning in a never-ending sea of greyness. I am mentally struggling to find a positive approach when every bit of my being is crying out for a release from this state of imprisonment.

I am told there is a light at the end of the tunnel but at the moment it feels like it is the train coming towards me and if it isn’t that, it is a very, very long tunnel.

Tag: native cunning

AAAAAArgh.

Crossing the line.