Introducing The Joe Wheeler Foundation for Emotionally Abused Women

Dear Monstermomers,

My sister and I are starting “The Joe Wheeler Foundation for Emotionally Abused Women".  After reading our blog I am sure you will be jumping with joy to see us honoring our father in such a generous and loving way.  Which describes our father perfectly.  It is our way of acknowledging his sixty years of life with our abusive mother.  He was trapped in an emotionally abusive relationship with her as she slowly alienated from his friends, family and even his own children. 

The Foundation will offer emotionally abused women an affordable place to stay where they can bring their pets.  It will provide a safe environment a home where they are surrounded with people that experienced the same abuse.  We hope to provide legal and counseling support as well as love and compassion – as our father did for us during his last days. Helping to educate victims on Anti-Social Behavior Disorder and how they are not to blame, will help the women become emotionally healthy and give them a network of people to lean on with opportunities to contribute to the community. 

Our book is still in editing, we hope to finish the final edition and release it when the Joe Wheeler Foundation is revealed to the public.

We are open to any comments or advice you may have to help our foundation become the most celebrated nonprofit organization available for emotionally abused women.  Those of you that have experienced this type of abuse know why you stayed and know what could have helped you get out earlier if you had a foundation to help.   Please share your thoughts, we are always interested in our Monstermomers.

Updates on the Joe Wheeler Foundation will be occasionally posted on this blog for your review.

Best Regards to all,
Deb

Dad's Funeral - Mom's Behavior Escalates

Dad's body was still in the house when Mom was planning a shift in strategy. She was still on the phone with the funeral home, when I was just finishing talking with Joe and Eddie about her swallowing Opiates whenever she needed, while keeping Dad’s from him until the moment of his death.


Joey wasn’t the only one who felt the need to get away from her - I just had to get out of there. After all of us standing around Dad’s bedside, sharing that beautiful prayer without Susie, I was compelled to leave, too.


On the way to my place I pondered. Linda, Joe, and Mom couldn’t be bothered about Susie - she was always fair game. But I knew she was waiting for my call. Susie was desperate to hear that Dad was finally getting the Methadone, but I had to inform her instead, of his death.

The Medical Community Finally fires Mom, It is Finished

Dad had just gotten his Zanx doubled and his Morphine was discarded for Methadone. After the Doctor left the house, we all shared a sigh of relief.  We were happy for Dad - all but Mom of course. We had been waiting for the day when he would be given the comfort he deserved.

With everyone focused on Dad, suddenly Mom could see we were giving her no attention, and she quickly switched gears.  She got up and started to limp around the kitchen, putting on a real sympathy evoking performance.  Linda fell for it. " It's change, but a good change" she said very softly as she hugged Mom. “Here Mom put your leg up and rest some.  I’ll get you an ice pack.”    

I told Dad I was getting ready to go back up North to see the girls in the near future.  He took off his oxygen mask and said, “Tell them I love them.”  I asked if he wanted to rest, and he said yes.  I asked if he wanted to listen to his music?  He thought for a moment, and said, yes.  I turned the CD player on and it started playing some of his favorite church music. I got behind the head of his hospital bed, and held him tight.  I whispered in his ears that he was a wonderful father, and that I loved him.  I could read his lips through his oxygen mask.   He slowly moved his mouth to say, “I love you.”  I told him to rest, and I would see him in the morning.  I had a sixth sense this could be the last time we would talk to one another. There was nothing more to say.  I knew he was preparing to leave this earth, and he was concentrating on his transition. We had so much time to talk that there was nothing left unsaid.  He was calm when I left his bedside.  I left feeling quite peaceful.

I had no idea what Mom was up to when I left.  Just when I felt things would finally be good for Dad, she’d up-the-anti every time.  In the hospital she carefully road blocked our efforts, but at home she was in full operative mode.  The woman had no boundaries. With Dad and the absent medical community not able to keep her in line, she was out of control.  That night and the next day would turn out to be unbelievable.

Joey, who’d been a near constant witness to Mom’s cruel treatment of Dad was coming unglued.  He could no longer bring himself to stand by and watch Dad suffer, especially after hearing the doctor’s urgent warning.  Joe was feeling sickened and betrayed by Mom, who had been telling him all along that Dad was just fine - she knew what she was doing.  Joe knew that he had failed Dad.  Granted, he wasn’t as informed about the medical protocol for Dad’s condition as me and Linda, but he was looking to Mom for direction and reassurance.  Mom knew what she was doing when she tossed Linda and I out in exchange for Eddie and Joe for help in the main portion of Dad’s care. This decision especially came in handy for the overnight tormenting of Dad, because with only Joe and Eddie there, she knew she could get away with anything.  She was free to do with Dad whatever she pleased - and she did.  But then, Joey was having regrets.

Previously, when we shared our concerns with Joe about Mom not wanting to medicate Dad, he told us that he would not let Dad suffer.  He promised Susie before she had to fly back to Pennsylvania that he would personally make sure that Dad got the Morphine no matter what.  Since he would be staying with Mom and Dad, he told all of us that he would step in and give him the Morphine when it was time. We believed him - it eased our minds, because we all knew that Mom was out to see Dad suffer.

What we didn’t expect was that Mom would derail Joe's plan.  Mom misled Joe into thinking that Dad was alright. She kept telling him that Dad had been that way for months. She assured Joe that Dad was fine. Joe had fallen into Mom’s trap. He ended up being pulled into her game before he even knew what was happening. He had been betrayed, and once he figured it out, he was not going to be a part of her charade anymore.

Convinced she had Joe's trust, Mom whispered to him that she was not giving Dad all THAT medication.  Feeling such regret from Mom's deceit, he repeated the comment to Linda. They both made sure to stand over Mom as she set out Dad's medication for the evening.  Linda said even then, she didn’t give him all of the Zanx pills. And with the Morphine changed to Methadone, she coolly disregarded the Opiates all together - he got nothing.  Even though she knew they were watching her, she didn’t care.  She was calm, and acted in control.  She chose to cut back on his Zanx even though they were counting out the pills as she administered them in front of them.  They both got the warning glare…..Don’t You Dare Challenge Me.

Dad was in for yet another night without the Opiates and sleeping medication that he so desperately needed.  Every minute was an eternity - he watched the clock incessantly, begging for help, then, with his eyes.

I doubt very much if Joey slept a wink that night, knowing what Mom was doing to Dad -and hearing him suffering, knowing he needed help.  He was primed for the medical community to show in the morning, when if it was the last thing he ever did, Joe was going to do something about this insane treatment of Dad.
The next morning Joe called Linda, and said, “There’s going to be a showdown here this morning.  Mom is not giving Dad all of his medications and I’m going to tell the Hospice nurse when she gets here.”  Linda said she would be there to support him.

Linda arrived first, and then the Hospice nurse pulled up in her car.  Linda and Joe met her in the driveway to update her on the issue with Mom.  They all entered the house and surrounded Dad’s bed, while Mom was planted in her reclining chair, ready to oversee the action - and take on all she had coming.

The nurse started taking Dad’s vital signs.  His heart rate was 150+.  She asked Mom about his medications.  Mom said that he had all of his medications. Joe stood anxiously at the foot of Dad’s bed, and interrupted.  “How much Zanx did you give him?”  He knew Dad was to have 6 Zanx pills, and that Mom had only given him one half of one pill.  She didn’t reply other than, that he had his medication. Then Joe turned to the nurse and asked, “So is it okay for the family to decide how much medicine to give the patient, and medicate as they see fit?”  The nurse look shocked, and said, “No.”  Joe said, “Mom’s not giving him all of his medication.”  Mom shot back from her recliner, which was only three feet from Dad’s head. “That’s a lie!!”

Feeling betrayed, Joe spoke further. “Maybe it’s me.  Am I the only one here that feels Dad is not being medicated as the doctor ordered?”  From the far side of the bed, Linda spoke up. “No. I agree.”

Joe screamed at Mom, raising his fists in the air. “Even if Jesus Christ came down from the heavens himself, and told you to give Dad his medicine - you still wouldn’t do it!!”

As if discussing what was for dinner, calmly and methodically, Mom said, “You know Joe, Dad’s body can’t handle all of this medication.  He’s reacting badly to it.”

My brother Joe stood there in a state of shock - he couldn’t believe the degree of deceit.

The Hospice nurse sat down on the sofa, which was right next to Dads bed, on the far side.  She began thumbing through some paperwork.  She started reading aloud the body’s natural reactions, and what was happening to Dad, since he was in the throws of the death process.  She was trying to educate Mom about the death process so that she would understand that there was no medication in the World that would cause a person to have a ’death reaction’ stage by stage such as Dad was having. What Dad was exhibiting then was a part of the death process.  She wanted Mom to know the medications were Dad’s only means for comfort.

The Zanx, Methadone, and the sleeping pill were the medications Mom objected to, and the only one of the three that Dad was given was a minute dose of Zanx.  Everyone, especially Mom, already knew that Zanx wouldn’t cause a person to go through the ravaging stages of death.

It was disgusting that the medical community was only catching on to Mom's deceit then, after she tortured Dad for three weeks, telling the doctor and nurses he was fine - and that she was administering all of the medications as ordered.  And only then, when Joey ratted her out, did they hold Mom accountable. It was criminal.

Mom couldn’t deal with it.  She didn’t like being told - anything - ever.  Being told was losing control, and that was the last straw - the jig was up - it was time for her to throw in the towel.  She blasted out of that recliner, and after kicking the foot rest back, she hurled her hands into the air and told everyone that she was all done. She wanted no part of this anymore.  She said that they could stay up with Dad all night - they could give him his medicine.

Immediately the nurse asked Mom if she was sure she wanted to give up all responsibility for Dad’s medication.  In a rage, Mom said, “Yes!”  The nurse handed Mom a paper to sign and told Mom that she was no longer allowed to distribute Dad’s medications.  She was calling a crisis nurse in to be with Dad around the clock - 24 hours a day.  She told Mom, “The crisis nurse will be fully responsible for your husband’s comfort.  She will be here within the hour.”

Mom was suddenly stripped of all control.  Already in her mind, she was onto the next thing.  She had no remorse, little concern for anyone, and she wouldn’t waste even one minute thinking about the situation any further.  In fact, Mom was actually thinking about preparing dinner - she was planning to tell Eddie about her roast pork recipe once the nurse left.

Before the nurse left, she told Linda that Dad had about 48 hours before it was over.  It wouldn’t be long, anyway. Linda tried to comfort Dad some, and gathered her keys to leave.  She left from there for my place.

Linda wanted to tell me about everything that took place, and that it happened directly at Dad’s bedside. We were relieved that a crisis nurse was taking control.  I was shocked that Joey stood up to Mom.  I was touched that he finally did something for Dad - he finally in part kept his promise.  I thought how it actually took a team of people to conquer this bitch.  Her own son and daughter, and the entire geriatric portion of the medical community in that part of Ocala, Florida.

We had been talking for less than an hour when Joe called. The crisis nurse had arrived and told Joe that Dad had less than an hour, if that.

In less than ten minutes we were at Dad‘s bedside.  Joe said, “I think it’s too late.  The nurse can’t find any vital signs.”

Mom was at the head of Dad’s bed with her hands cupped lightly.  She touched his forehead with one finger. Then she stuck out her thumb.  On his forehead she made a sign of the cross as she moved her lips to silently recite a prayer. I noticed she had a difficult time showing any kind of affection. I thought to myself, what a farce, she has no religion, and she never loved Dad.  Of this, then, I was positive.  She was cold.  And as usual, she never shed a single tear.  And she avoided eye contact with all who surrounded Dad’s bed.  Her actions were calculated, and her emotion very shallow. She’d even planned this contrived display of ’reverence’.  What a sickening moment.  And poor Dad never got one drop of the Methadone as he died in a totally tortured and suffering state. He died listening to his psychopath wife lie about torturing him, call his son a liar, and hearing the medical officials tell her she was essentially fired from his care - all before finally being freed from it all.

We surrounded Dad’s bed in silence.  Linda said a beautiful prayer.  Slowly, one at a time, we left his bedside.

Mom immediately got the phone book out and called the funeral home.  As the crisis nurse gathered up Dad’s medications, I asked her what happens to all of the medicine.  She said, “The medicine that Hospice bought, I am required to take out of the home (The Methadone). The rest of the medications, the family is responsible for.”

I went out onto the screened porch where my brother, Joe, and his wife were sitting quietly. I wanted to talk with Joe. He was angry with Mom for putting him in the position she did, and he was wishing he had not said anything.  He said if he knew Dad was going to pass that soon, he would have kept his mouth shut. I told him he did the right thing, and that he would have always regretted not speaking up for Dad.  He said, “Yeah, but now look.  Mom has to deal with his death, and she’ll have that episode in her mind just making it worse.  I feel terrible.”  He went on to say that he wanted to get as far away from Mom as he could.  And that he knew there was a reason that he left this family 30 years ago.

At the time that all of this was happening, I knew Mom didn’t love Dad, and she was putting on an act.  I hoped that eventually, Joe would see the truth, too. Mom’s aloof reactions, and her laze’-fare behavior did not reflect a woman who just lost her husband of 60+ years.  Once he sees this for what it is, Joe will be glad he spoke up for Dad.

I told Joe. “Sue told me on the phone last night that Mom’s taking Percocet!  Can you believe after all the trouble she caused trying to keep Dad from the benefit of the Opiates, she was taking a very strong Opiate herself?  And she labeled them “mind altering drugs” besides.  Here we find out she’s taking 750 mg of Percocet twice daily.  And has been for years.”

Joe wasn’t educated about pharmaceuticals.  He shot me a puzzled look as Eddie stood up to the table.  I looked at her and asked if she knew what Percocet was.  She piped up. “Yes. Isn’t it a form of Morphine?”  I said,  “Yes. It’s a powerful Opiate.  I was just telling Joe that Mom has been taking it for years.”  Eddie looked stunned. “She was taking that while your Dad lay there suffering?”  I responded with a nod,  “Can you believe it?  She’s such a bitch.”

Joe said that after Mom’s explosion with the Hospice nurse and getting fired, she wandered into the kitchen, reaching for her pork roast recipe to show Eddie. He said, “It was the weirdest thing. While Dad was lying in the middle of the living room taking his last breaths, Mom was in the kitchen casually talking about her pork roast recipe.”   We both looked at each other as if to say, “What the hell?”

I went back into the house, and the nurse was washing Dad’s body.  I glanced at the kitchen table and all of the medications were gone. Mom had done something with them after she heard me asking about them.  My flags went up again….why would she be so concerned about getting his medications out of sight.  Her priorities were mixed up.  I thought. Why isn’t she consoling us?  Dad’s been dead all of fifteen minutes and Mom’s hiding medications.

I thought about how quickly this all happened.  Dad was given 48-hours at ten O’clock in the morning, and at noon he was already in the process of taking his last breaths - having then, less than an hour.  The idea of a crisis nurse, and hospice coming into Mom’s home, ‘controlling’ the administration of the Opiates for Dad, would definitely prompt her to impulsively do whatever it was that would END the whole ‘threat’. What ever it took, the implications wouldn’t matter to Mom.

Looking back, it makes sense to me that Mom camped out in the kitchen, helping Eddie with the pork roast recipe. I think she didn’t want to be seen as being associated with Dad’s death.  Torturing a man to his death under everybody’s nose was something she knew she’d gotten away with for three weeks, but an acute death-association is something different, entirely.   

Between the time the medicine disappeared, and Dad’s death, Mom was not at his bedside - even after being told he was taking his last breaths. This behavior just seemed thought provoking to Joe and to me. When she couldn’t torture Dad, Mom did what anyone such as herself would do - she found a way to be right, to be in control again, and to win.

Understanding what we do now about Anti-Social Personality Disorder and Narcissistic behavior, she will stop at nothing to please herself.

One thing we did know was when Dad left this Earth he knew he was loved by all of his children. He gave each of us the gift of love, and freed us from all confusion and uncertainty of our past, paving the way for a better future. 

As Susie wrote in his eulogy, he taught us how to love and how to die. It was Big, just like Dad said in the hospital - but it was bigger than he ever could have ever imagined. 

Dad's Doctor Makes a House Call and Passes the Baton to Hospice "Your Husband is Suffering Mrs. Wheeler"

We were told by the Certified Nurses Assistant that in helping Dad to drink, we should not use a straw.  At that point in his decline, the usage of a straw would cause aspiration and choking.  Mom ignored the warning and continued to use the straw anyway.  Out of concern for Dad, I also mentioned it to Mom, and she ignored me, too.

The next afternoon, I noticed that when Dad asked for a drink, his cup was finally minus the straw, so I inquired as to why.  Mom said that he aspirated some soda the night before, so we shouldn’t use a straw anymore.  I thought to myself, no shit.

Then Linda shared with me that when she got out of her car at Mom’s place, she could smell marijuana.  She was frustrated that Joe and Eddie were staying there to help take care of Dad, yet they were smoking pot and drinking all night.  Even Mom complained to Linda that Eddie got drunk in the evening, and it drove her crazy listening to her ramble.  We were sharing our concern, yet Mom was satisfied with the arrangement.  Mom knew Joe and Eddie were potheads, and heavy drinkers, long before they came to “help with Dad”, but it didn’t matter - Mom couldn’t be bothered with Dad’s welfare.

After Dad aspirated the soda from the use of the drinking straw, he started doing a lot of coughing.  Mom called the doctor to see if he would prescribe a medication for Dad to help dry up the phlegm.  Aware of Dad‘s condition, the doctor explained that Dad was at the point where he needed comfort care only.  Any other ’treatment’ would not have helped him at that point - in-fact, some of the medications for the treatment of chronic conditions were at that point making him worse.   Mom yelled at the doctor over the phone, and said she didn’t want Hospice, they kill people.  The doctor said he was not comfortable doing anything without seeing Dad so he planned to visit the next day.

I went home worried for Dad.  The fact that Mom was still hoarding his Opiates, watching him suffering, made me ill.  I was just turning down my bed when I heard Buster’s alert that someone was pulling up in the drive.

Linda came in all upset with Mom.  Linda said, “Mom sat in her recliner tonight proudly looking at Dad struggling.  His heart was racing so that you could see his chest moving rapidly as his body was straining to keep up.”

Dad was totally immersed in the agony and fear of the dying process.  Without the aid of Opiates, he was at the point where he could no longer even verbalize a cry for help.  Up until this time, that’s mostly what he did during the night - beg for help.  And all he got was Mom’s demands to calm down.  All of us were spent.  No one could stand another day of Mom’s treatment of Dad, and control over the situation.  It was criminal. 

Linda said, “Mom said to me, “Look at him there.  He is suffering just like Christ did on the cross.  It’s no different.””   Linda said she thought she was going to vomit.  It was so disturbing.  Mom was proud that she was torturing him. She was satisfied with his pain.

Linda left my place bewildered.  Neither one of us slept well that night - everybody but Mom was sick over Dad’s situation - we all knew something had to be done.

Susie, who had been kept informed, was beside herself in Pennsylvania, too.  She was expecting there to be some kind of confrontation in the coming day.  If not, she said she was prepared to get authorities involved.  Everyone was desperate for Dad.

The next day when the doctor arrived, Dad was actually having a pretty good day in comparison to the past few weeks.  The doctor had a Hospice team with him when he arrived.  He walked in and took one look at Dad, and said,  “Your husband is extremely uncomfortable, Mrs. Wheeler.”  Mom began to argue.  “No.  He’s been this way for months.”  Feeling terrible for Dad, the doctor said, “He feels like he is being held under water.  He’s suffocating.  He’s exhausted!”  Dad nodded his head, yes, as the doctor talked.  The doctor asked Dad is there anything he could do for him and Dad shrugged his shoulders.  The doctor asked, “Do you need more rest?”  Dad shook his head yes.  The doctor turned to Mom and told her Dad needs only comfort care at this point.  The other medicines are working against him.

The doctor took Dad off from all medications except for the Morphine and Zanx.  Mom argued as he wrote the order.  She started to go into one of her tirades. “He needs the fluid pills or he will start retaining fluid!”  The doctor pointed to Dad’s catheter bag, and said, “See how dark his urine is?  His kidneys are shutting down.”  Mom argued, “His urine has been that color for three months.”

We all knew that was a lie.  We had been emptying the urine as needed, and noticed the change in color three days earlier.  The fact was, Mom was fighting to keep control. The doctor knew this and refused to play the game.

The reason the doctor came prepared with the Hospice team was because he knew what he was walking into, and he wanted to relieve Dad’s suffering as soon as possible.  He wanted Dad’s care to be signed over to Hospice right on the spot.

The doctor doubled Dad’s dosage of Zanx and prescribed a sleeping pill.  If he knew that Mom wasn’t even giving Dad the first recommended dosage of Zanx - she was giving him one instead of six - maybe he could have had her arrested for Elder abuse. And if he knew she wasn’t giving Dad any Morphine, he definitely could have had her arrested.

Ever confident that she wouldn’t get caught torturing a man to his death, Mom brazenly argued about the Morphine, then, too. “He has a bad reaction to THAT drug!”  The doctor was ready for her with, “I’m taking him off that, and putting him on Methadone.”

Mom had no idea that Methadone was a stronger drug than Morphine - essentially the synthetic equivalent for Heroin.  But it didn’t matter what she knew, she wasn’t about to administer anything this doctor was ordering.

Then the doctor dropped the chart to his side and introduced the Hospice team.  He said that Hospice was there to sign Dad into their program.  Before he finished his point, Mom blew-up.  She screamed to them, “I don’t want Hospice in here!  They kill people!”  This was Mom’s way of pulling off yet another kick-out. This was her home and they could just get out.

The doctor told Mom that if they could not be here,  Dad would need to be removed from the home.  She finally settled down, and said okay. The entire conversation was conducted at Dad’s bedside.

When the doctor left, Linda walked him to his car.  He told Linda that it won’t be long.  Dad had just a few days left.

I arrived on the scene after the doctor pulled away from the house. Mom was sitting at the table, totally distraught.  She looked like someone had violated her. Then, I heard that the doctor actually physically took with him all medications except for the Morphine and Zanx, leaving the prescription for Methadone and increased Zanx . Aha!!!!  Then it was making sense. And oh, Dad was then on Hospice.

Mom looked totally defeated.  I was so thankful.  It was about time.

CONFRONTING MOM ABOUT CHILD ABUSE

For as long as I can remember, Mom has loved the captive audience of a moving vehicle.  In route to anywhere, she’d go over various character assassinations of family members.  She had a great need to reinforce her point - and her point was to plant evil seeds, and watch them grow.

I learned to tune Mom out as she sat posing in the passenger seat of the car, bragging of her dominance and control, while reaffirming the stories.  She made sure each time that I would get the impression that she couldn’t be wrong about these things.  Mom had a way of insisting that this family member, or that, really was crazy, or that they did something horrible, which always in effect, affected Dad.  

One afternoon, captive in the car, she crossed the line.  She told me she wanted to see Susie.  I didn’t know why she would even think of doing that, when she’d just months before gotten rid of her for the last time - and had been trashing Susie ever since.

Looking back now, though,  I think she knew I was mostly tuning her out.  Mom said that she was hoping that the next time Sue comes to Florida, I would include her.  I wasn’t about to get woven into her web with this, and I didn’t want to feed this line of deceit, so I just listened.

Before I knew it, Mom started in with all the things she hated about Sue, which I always found puzzling because it was like she was talking about a different person - I didn’t see Sue in the same way at all.  Mom went on during the drive of how Susie upsets Dad, and that Dad and she can’t handle it at their age.  Through the windshield, my eyes scanned the roadway, and my mind said, “Won’t she just shut up!”  She got rid of Sue once and for all - she should just leave it that way!!

Still, Mom went on.  She said, “I can’t trust Sue to be alone with her.  But if she were to stay with one of you girls, I would come to your house and see her. You know?  I’m over that last blowup.  I still want a relationship with her.  I like Susie. She can be a lot of fun.”   I was wondering what the hell she was talking about - I knew she hated Susie.  All I got out of that was that she planned on having Sue return for a “visit” and keep her from seeing Dad - the only person Susie ever came to Florida to see. 

As I drove down Silver Springs Boulevard I, decided to call Mom on her behavior with Sue, after all, she brought it up.  Not understanding at the time why Mom and Sue had what Mom called “blowups”, I decided to be honest with her about what I thought could be the “problem”.  

Merely guessing, I thought it made sense. “You know, Mom.  That was not the first time you and Sue have had words.  If you really want to have a relationship with her you’re going to have to apologize for her childhood.”   Mom looked at me inquisitively.  “What?  What about her childhood?”  I explained that every time she got back with Sue after throwing her out - she never apologized.  She swept the past under the rug, eventually resulting in another explosion.  Mom looked confused.  I said, “You know.  From the time Sue was five years old Dad screamed at her. He called her dumb, dumb, dumb.  He hollered a lot to “Use your head Susan””!

Mom looked at me with a childish expression, and said, “What?!  I don’t remember that.  Was I there?  I couldn’t have been there, or I would remember that”.  I said, “You must have been.  He said it all of the time.  Almost every day.”  Mom looked out the passenger side window and declared,  “I don’t remember that.  Are you sure?” 

I think while Mom’s head was turned, looking out the window, she was hiding that childishly irresistible urge to grin.  To her, this confrontation must have been amusing.  Not being aware of her intentions, I was merely trying to come up with a solution, or an idea that might help understand why she‘s ended up throwing Susie out of the family so many times.  What I’ve always thought was that once you understand something, it’s easier to fix.  But this all amounts to just pure entertainment for Mom.  Seeing me seriously trying to “fix” something that she’s made up (the “blowups”), satisfies Mom.   All the while Susie, me, or Linda, tried to ‘fix’ the mess that Mom made of the family, she was busy dismantling the efforts. And if one of us was tenacious enough in doing so, Mom would promptly make something up about them and throw them out. 

I said, “I know we remember things differently from our childhood, but even Joe mentioned it when he was home in April.”  That caught her attention.  She snapped her head in my direction.  No longer satisfied, she had no grin.  Without even skipping a beat, she calmly said, “What did he say?”  I said, “Joe was at Linda’s kitchen table, and said that he couldn’t get the image of Susie being verbally abused out of his head.  And worse, he said that you would laugh when it was happening!  It has haunted him his entire life.”  Mom sat still, just listening intently as if we were discussing tickets to a ball game.  I added, “Joey still can’t forgive himself for not speaking up for Sue. I think that’s what needs to be addressed with Sue.”

Joey had been exiled from the family for thirty years, but Mom kept in touch by letters over the years - Joey rarely wrote her.  Then in April, he and his wife decided to come back into the family when Dad’s lung disease took a turn for the worst.  Suddenly, Joey was talking about coming to Ocala, Florida for the Winter, and possibly longer.  Mom didn‘t want to mess things up with Joe - not then.  She needed to study him some before being confident enough to manipulate him into self-destruction.  And besides, she’d want to use him first.

Mom likes to get more bang for the buck when it comes to manipulation.  Once she gets out of him what she wants - and it could take years - she’ll build up to the grand finale of destroying him emotionally.

“Well”,  Mom exclaimed!  Pretending to be surprised, “Out of all you kids, I thought Joey had it the worst. Your father couldn’t relate to him at all!  I always felt bad for Joey.” 

I couldn’t believe it!  Mom totally washed over the fact that she laughed about her own little girl being verbally abused.  Who does that to their own child - who does that period?  By redirecting the conversation, Mom’s intention was to avoid addressing the incredible offense. Worse, she tries to show “empathy” for Joey, instead, which is attention getting - coming from her.  It was distressing to see Mom playing this game.  She spoke with such conviction, but her attempt at redirecting the conversation was obvious. 

After Dad died, and I found out the truth about Mom, I looked back at this conversation with interest.  Mom twisted everything.  The truth is no one should be alone with Mom.  There was no blowup on Sue’s part the last time she was in town.  Mom hated Sue. Sue was the last person she wanted to see.  Sue was fun for Mom in the past because she allowed Mom to manipulate her to the obvious crescendo of the kick-outs. But not anymore - Sue was no longer playing, and Mom knew it.  Getting Sue to return would be just another challenge for Mom.  She wanted to set Sue up again for another ‘kick-out’, just to relive the pleasure of her destruction.

I told Mom,  “Well if you felt so sorry for Joey, then you should at least apologize to him, and make that right.”  Ignoring my advice, instead, she continued on about Sue. “When Linda gets home from work, I want to ask her if she remembers that about Susie.  If that’s true, I have no problem sitting down with you three girls and talking about it. The only thing I remember is calling Sue Aunt Betty.” 

Then I remembered that “Aunt Betty” was the last name Mom ever called Sue - it was right after kicking her out of the family for the last time, some months ago. 

I said, “Yeah, that’s a good one.  Did you ever stop and think about the message you were giving her when you did that?”  Mom didn’t respond.  She just looked at me as if to say, ‘what’?  “You always called her Aunt Betty, knowing Aunt Betty was the one person you had nothing good to say about.  How do you think Sue felt?”   Mom replied  “Oh, I never thought about it THAT way.”  She added, “I always call her Susie. That’s a term of endearment, you know.  If I didn’t feel that way about her I’d call her Sue.”

I thought to myself - she never called her Susie to her face - but when speaking of her to others she did so in order to create the impression that she thought of her endearingly.  That way when she kicked her out of the family, everybody might question Susie’s innocence.  After all, Mom loved her.

We pulled onto Mom’s driveway and said goodbye.  I went home thinking about the absurd conversation with Mom, and her cavalier attitude about child abuse.  It was sickening.

That night Linda called me, and I told her about the conversation with Mom.  She said, “Oh my GOSH, Debbie.”  I told her that Mom didn’t believe me about Sue’s child abuse, and that she wanted to ask her about it.  Linda’s wheels started spinning. “I don’t know. I don’t want to get in the middle of it. You know, when I point things like that out to her she turns on me.  I don’t know if I want to deal with her.  I’ve been trying to avoid Mom’s traps.  Lately, things have been pretty good because I am not letting her get to me.”  I dropped the subject right there, and we soon were onto another topic, less irritating. 

Weeks went by before the subject was broached again - and oddly enough, it wasn’t either one of us to bring it up. 

It was a few weeks later, when after returning from work one day, Linda and I arranged to take Mom to the park pool for an outing of sorts.  All was well as we enjoyed some small-talk, splashing away carefree.  Then, Mom floated over to Linda, and with her hands together, fingers folded inside one another, she squiggled her arms in front of her like a snake, approaching it’s prey.  Mom said in a righteous, indignant tone, “I want to ask YOU.”  She looked at me, and said, “What was it you said in the car about Sue and when she was little?”  I said, “No. You can tell Linda.  I’m not saying it.  You tell her Mom.  I’ll correct you if you don’t get it right.”  Mom gave me a look of contempt, but she had already opened her mouth.  She started talking to Linda about Susie and the times she threw her out - and how she deserved it.  Mom pounded it out until she got Linda to nod like she believed Mom, and Mom was RIGHT.  Then she led into my confrontation with her in the car, about Susie being verbally abused.  Of course she didn’t remind Linda of her laughing about Susie’s tears at the time, for she was leading Linda to side with her.

Mom said, “Is that true?  Did we abuse Sue?  I don’t remember.”  Knowing this was coming, Linda tried to answer without getting Mom mad. “Yes. She was yelled at a lot.  Dad called her dumb. You know, we never knew what kind of a mood Dad would be in when he got home.”

Mom instantly went into one of her tirades, splashing the water on the pool surface away from her body, and then grabbing the edge of the pool to lift herself up into a more controlled posture. “I can’t believe it! Seventy-five years old and I’m being questioned. At this age I have to talk to you kids and apologize for something that happened so many years ago?  That’s ridiculous!  Why do I have to apologize for something your father did?”  

She then raised her voice, and trying to redirect the conversation, she said that her father abused her.  “You kids, I TELL YOU my father did terrible things to me.  I NEVER told anyone.  That’s how it was back then, people didn’t talk about those things.”

As usual, Mom couldn’t resist pulling out her Ace in the hole, Linda, to make it all go away.  She was positive that Linda would lie for her as usual, but when this time Linda half rode the fence - Mom reacted like a spoiled child.

I was surprised when Mom changed the focus from her to Dad, and when that didn’t work, she threw it over the fence onto Grandpa. Scrambling to cover Mom’s obvious blunder, Linda only appeared to be surprised as well.

Mom had this conversation planned - just like most with her.  She then immediately jumped to throwing Grandpa under the bus. She said, “My father used to climb in bed with me, and my mother let him.  She knew it, and never did a thing.  Well. He didn’t do anything.  But he lay with me.  How weird is that!”

Linda and I just looked at each other.

Mom continued.  “Oh, he did a lot of weird things to me.  He made me take my shirt off when I was sixteen working in the garden with him, and he made me take off my bra, too!  Then he stood and watched me. Yeah! Oh, you don’t know the half of it.  I never told anybody.”

Susie had already heard these stories at least a hundred times, growing up.  But Susie loved Grandpa, and just always knew the stories were lies.

Back pedaling, Linda said, “There were good things about our childhood.  We always knew the bills were paid.”  She said a few other things that I believe were a stretch because for the life of me I can’t remember what they were.  Then she ended up trying to calm Mom down as I slowly floated to the other end of the pool.

I was aggravated that Mom switched the subject and assaulted Grandpa.  Wondering if it was something she made up on the fly, and knowing how Mom repeated her stories over and over, I asked Linda if she heard that story about Grandpa before.  She said she didn’t know about Grandpa climbing into bed with her, but she remembered Mom telling her about Grandpa digging her poop out with a spoon when she was a child, and that is why she’s had vaginal and rectal fistulas her entire life. 

I thought. How crazy is that?!!!  I can’t imagine it ever happening.  A spoon?  No wonder Mom never told me that story, I would have never have believed it.  The spoon story was even more unbelievable than the bed and the garden stories.

Too, I thought about how Linda played the supporting role for Mom once again. It made Mom ‘appear' more human - and as long as I could remember, Linda’s done this for Mom. 

Dad Comes Home to Die and the Unveiling of His Neglect

It was Friday, the day of Dad’s release from the hospital when  Dad was finally leaving the Kindred Care Unit.  His death warrant was signed - odds were against him even making it home alive, via the transport ambulance.

Linda and I arrived at the hospital at one O’clock to pack Dad’s things, and get Mom ready for the move. My brother and his wife stayed at home to let in the people who were delivering Dad's oxygen and his hospital bed.  Once all was delivered, Dad was to be transported. 

The Case Worker who arranged for Dad’s release and the protocol of the transport, had taken the day off.  The nurses station didn’t get her messages, and Dad’s transport was underway without the hospital’s orders for medications and proper procedures.  Everyone was poised to go, but until the communications were complete, Dad was left waiting.

During that time we watched Andy Griffith in Dad‘s hospital room.  I didn’t think Dad was paying much attention, but then I heard him tell Linda to turn up the volume.  It turned out to be a nice relaxing afternoon.  Mom lay on the spare bed, totally removed from those of us watching the show.  And she wasn't interested in interacting with Dad either.  After all, it was only yesterday that Susie left, and she'll never get over the betrayal of her covert visit with him.

That day I watched the nurse, many times, take the clipboard off from Dad’s door, sign it, and place it back on the door.  She never stepped inside of his room.  Out of curiosity, I looked at the clipboard.  There it was - the schedule for the bedsores, turns, and dressings. They were pencil whipping it.  They  obviously believed Mom, who said she was caring for Dad‘s bedsores, turns, and dressings.  Unfortunately, I found out about a half hour before he was discharged.  Once again, I dropped the ball on Dad. 

Update 6-1-2011

As most of you have gathered I have taken a few weeks off from writing.  I have completed almost everything for the book with the exception of the forgiveness chapter and a few items about my Dad.  Some of the writing I have not blogged because my sister is in the process of editing them.  She is in the process of editing the final draft.  I will begin blogging again once she catches up with my posts.  She is doing a fantastic job.  If you are interested in what she has done so far you can go to
http://susietheangelpath.blogspot.com/. 

She blogs a few pages everyday.  It's good reading and fascinating as well.

I Begin to Seek the Truth

I have spent months looking back over my childhood.  I’m searching for answers to events that have basically stored themselves in my mind as fragmented reflections not clear enough to be memories.  Many of them I see from an outsider looking onto the events instead of being in the middle of or participating.  I know I am there, I can see myself but I have no feelings or emotions attached to the event. 

Once I started to deal with the flood of emotions I realized it was more than I had bargained.  I found  it helpful to walk through the process of remembering an event, to write down the details, everything related to the event including where I was, who was there, what my surroundings looked like, what occurred, and how I felt.  By following this process I was able to determine how the event played a significant role in developing my false self.  This helped put the fragmented reflections into something tangible. 

My earliest memory is me sitting on a dock with a tire tube next to me.   I must have been about two years old.  I saw no one around me.  Sitting on the edge of the dock with my feet dangling, I fell into the water.  I can see myself sinking as if I was a third person watching on.  I felt no fear or sadness, no anxiety or panic the moment seems very surreal.  Then someone pulled me out of the water and placed me back on the dock telling me to stay away from the water.  When I look at the incident in my mind’s eye, there was no one around me.  No one came rushing to see if I was okay, I actually remember looking across the water and seeing people sitting at a picnic table (the feeling I have is that they were family).  I was left sitting there alone in a very dangerous situation. 

The Disbeliever

Most weeks I attend Catholic Mass with John.  I find that I am constantly reminded throughout the Mass of things that Mom has either said, did, or pretended.  I am so distracted by how she conned all of us that at times I am not able to receive the message being shared to the congregation.  I hope that blogging my feelings about how Mom mocked us as she pretended to be serious about their religion will help me to put these thoughts to rest.

Back Into the Insanity

It would be ten years before I would hear from my mother.  On December 13, 2001 I received the infamous letter that sucked me back into the insanity.  The letter was written in my mother’s cursive hand writing.  She stated that she had been writing me for a few years but the letters were returned.  Eventually she mailed the final letter to what she thought was my work address in Owego NY.  My parents had no idea that my career had lead me to a job promotion in CA.  It was forwarded to my new office location in Watsonville CA.  The letter included some information about my siblings which pulled at my heart strings.  This is what she wrote about my siblings (I still have the letter):

I talked with Joe a while ago and he’s doing fine.  He and his wife Eddie are still building houses in Michigan.  Sue is still in school and doing ok.  Sue enjoys writing and recently had a poem published.  Her son Joey broke his wrist and is also doing ok.  Linda and her husband Brian have been traveling a lot lately.  They have been to England, Costa Rica and New Orleans.  Everyone seems to be doing well and we hope you and the girls are as well.

I felt an instant desire to connect with everyone.  I thought things must be better now since everyone is staying in touch with Mom and Dad.   And to top it off, Mom had become Catholic!  Her letter reflected on her new religious lifestyle and her connections with all of my siblings.   I couldn’t help but think everyone sounded normal now.  I wanted in on it. 

Susie's Post - Emotional Manipulators Play on Your Life

EMOTIONAL MANIPULATORS PLAY UPON YOUR LIFE  Posted: 04 May 2011 11:47 AM PDT My mother’s favorite tool used to destroy my father and to abuse others is emotional manipulation. Psychopaths are the master emotional manipulators. They will destroy you emotionally if you let them. There is no use in trying to be honest with an emotional manipulator. You make a statement and it will be turned around. Example: I am really angry that you forgot my birthday. Response - "It makes me feel sad that you would think I would forget your birthday, I should have told you of the great personal stress I am facing at the moment - but you see I didn’t want to trouble you. You are right I should have put all this pain (don’t be surprised to see real tears at this point) aside and focused on your birthday. Sorry." Even as you are hearing the words you get the creeped-out sensation that they really do NOT mean they are sorry at all - but since they’ve said the words you’re pretty much left with nothing more to say. Under all circumstances if you feel this angle is being played - don’t capitulate! Do not care take - do not accept an apology that feels like bullshit. If it feels like bullshit - it probably is. Rule number one - if dealing with an emotional blackmailer TRUST your gut. TRUST your senses. Once an emotional manipulator finds a successful maneuver - it’s added to their hit list and you’ll be fed a steady diet of this shit.

Dad's Opportunity For a Lung Transplant

 

Dad yelled at the nurse saying he didn't want to go home with Hospice.  I asked the nurse to excuse herself so the family could talk amongst each other.  I said “Dad your lungs are shot.  There is nothing anyone can do at this point.  If you want to come home we'll need outside help to do that.  You're getting the maximum amount of oxygen here.  If you need more, we’re gonna be in trouble, you’re already on 100%.  What is it you want?”  

Dad said to me “everyone is giving up on me.  Don’t give up"!  Then he put one finger up and said "If there is one chance in a million I can be cured, I want that chance". 
I said "OK". 
He continued "Can they rinse my lungs out or something?  I want a second opinion.” 

I listened and agreed.  After all, he never saw any x-rays or evidence of how bad his lungs were.  Mom never told him how sick he really was so this came as a total shock to him that his life was ending.  He was suddenly being placed on Hospice.  I said I'd take the action item to get him a second opinion and we could go from there.  He agreed and was satisfied with that.

Mom Signed Me Over To The State and Dad Fell Deeper Into The Drink

It was October 26, 1977 I was 14 years old.  I skipped school one day and vandalized a teacher’s home with eggs and tomatoes.  Drunk and out of control, my parents immediately drove me to the Bradford County Children’s Bureau for placement.  This was my first offense.  I was surprised at their reaction.  Mom was determined.  She quickly jumped on the opportunity and took full advantage of it to get me out of the house.  Just like that, in one day, she made me a ward of the state.

A Tribute to Dad's Life

My Aunts Inner Child, One of Moms Victims

Mom had this thing about our father’s sister.  Now that I see Mom has AsPD, I realize she made my Aunt and her husband victims of her assaults.  The horrible lies she told us as children about them left lasting impressions on our young minds.  She had at least two kick outs with my Aunt and Uncle that I can remember.  Once when I was eight years old that lasted twenty years and then the last kick out three years ago after my Aunt started showing signs of dementia.  During the kick outs we had no contact with them or our cousins which Mom managed to pull off with without a hitch.  There was an unspoken understanding that we were to remain staunch behind Mom and her decisions.  By doing this we inadvertently supported her insanity, reaffirming her behavior we gave her more power over us and the freedom to throw her tirades with no consequences. 

It wasn't until Dad died and we stopped all communication with Mom that we reunited with our Aunt and her daughters.  Unfortunately our Uncle had passed away a few years prior to us getting back together.  It had been forty years for me since I saw them.  Sue, on the other hand saw them at Dad's retirement party (what we would consider a controled setting) but had no contact with them afterwards. 

Reuniting with estranged family members became essential for Sue and I to get a clear unbiased understanding of what had transpired.  We were looking for answers and it wasn’t long before we stumbled across them.

Karen in Australia

Hi Karen,
My sister and I have been wondering if things are going ok for you? 
Please feel free to email us anytime:

Deb's email qual_girl@yahoo.com
Sue's email awadkathleen@yahoo.com

We pray you and your husband are safe.
Your not alone out there.  We think of you and your husband John everyday and your father-in -law, God love him.

If you would like an nice support group to interact with, may I suggest the following group:
Friends And Family Affected By AsPD

I joined a few months ago and they have been wonderful.  They have daily email correspondence for their members and good supporting advice. 

 http://groups.google.com/group/familyandfriendsaffectedbyaspd?pli=1

We would love to hear from you,
Take Care Good Friend,
Deb

Dad Rallies to See Susie Before He Passes

I called Sue that night and told her Dad was asking for her.  She right away said she will come.  She had a flight into Gainesville the next day.

At first Linda and I thought it best not to get Joe and Eddie involved.  With further consideration I realized everyone had to know so that we were united.  I had to include my brother and his wife Eddie in the plan.  The morning of Sue’s arrival I talked to them. 

After sharing my concerns Joe said “I agree with you Deb, if Mom knows she will be upset and won’t sleep.  There’s no sense in telling her until Sue is here and has already seen Dad”. 

I told him I didn’t like the idea of going behind Mom’s back but considering the situation, it was best for everyone. 

Walking away, I felt confident.  I now had Linda, Joe and Eddie all supporting Dad’s plan.  I knew if Mom had one sibling that was not involved, she would systematically dismantle all the good Dad was trying to accomplish.

Mom Refuses to Allow Dad to Have Morphine

Linda called me while I was sitting in the airport waiting for my flight.  She said after Dad signed the DNR the medical staff immediately started to give him morphine.  He began to sleep all day and night and when he woke he was understandably confused.  After two days, Mom was going crazy.  She told them to stop the morphine.  Mom told the staff she did not want him on THAT drug.  Linda felt Mom was over reacting and couldn't understand why.  The drug calmed Dad down and helped him sleep.  Mom didn’t seem to like that.  She insisted on controlling everything with Dad.  She said at least after stopping the morphine, the doctor agreed to increase his Zanax dosage to help Dad relax. 

The Destruction of a Totally Altruistic Act

It was the ultimate win for Mom.  She stripped all kindness from Linda’s unselfish plan and convinced Dad not to trust Linda.  She turned Linda’s selfless act into selfish motives.  After all Linda did for them, this assault against Linda and Dad was a crime.  

Confronting Mom About Our Childhood

Mom’s usual deal was getting in the car with a captive audience and then she’d start reliving her offenses.  The re offending would go on and on.  I got so I could tune her out pretty good as she sat in the passenger’s seat bragging and reaffirming her stories while making sure I knew she was never wrong and these things really did happen.  One afternoon she crossed the line.  She told me she wanted to see Susie.  Looking back I think she knew I was tuning her out.  She said she was hoping the next time Sue comes to visit me, I would include her (this was after she kicked Sue out of our dying fathers life). 

She totally washed over Susie’s hurt feelings and the fact that she laughed at her young child's humiliation and torment while expressing her false empathy for Joey was distressing.  She say’s this with such conviction, but yet it was obvious to me with her tranquil composure she was attempting to redirect the conversation.  I felt it and didn’t give in.

The Coma Stare - One of Dads Clues

Dad’s first few days in the hospital he was a spitfire.  He was wound up on steroids, just a regular chatter box.  He tried to assert himself with the medical staff by asking questions and not always agreeing.  He was behaving no differently than the average concerned patient.  When the subject of a DNR was discussed, Mom immediately said “I’ll make all the decisions.  We don’t need anything in writing”.  Dad started pushing back a little on Mom, challenging the doctors and her control.  That’s when things took a turn for the worse.  Mom knew she could steal Dad’s voice by instilling fear in him.  She had a lifelong history of controlling him this way.

My heart was sinking as I watched this happen time and again with him.  The more he acted like a scared rabbit, the happier she was.  The more she spoke for him, the more power she obtained and the more dependent he was on her.  It became a vicious cycle.

He Who Laughs Last Always Has the Last Laugh

This showcases the kind of hell a child experiences with a psychopath for a mother - only a couple of examples of which there are countless others.......   And when I think now that this monster was caretaker for my precious father in his helpless hours of need at the end of his death, I can't be consoled.

Kathleen Susan Wheeler Awad

Dad Realizes Things Are Not What They Seem

During my brother's visit in April, Mom made an appointment to see Dad’s doctor (which was perfect timing).  Mom's despotic control was a huge part of her success with manipulating the family.   I knew Mom was going to make an appointment with Dad’s doctor, but she purposely kept the appointment a secret.  The doctor’s office was in a location where Mom would never drive alone (well that's what she always lead us to believe).  As a matter of fact, she acted petrified to drive outside of the block she lived on which resulted in us chauffeuring her everywhere.  However, on the day of the appointment, without telling anyone, she drove to the doctor’s office by herself (a thirty minute drive on three lanes roads) and met with his doctor to discuss Dad’s condition and prognosis.  That should have been a flag!!!

I Believe the Subject of P's is "Taboo"

Today I want to blog about my feelings regarding the family issues surrounding P’s and how people react to you exposing them.   I believe for people that aren’t educated on the subject, this topic is easily considered “Taboo” in our country.

I recognize most people, if they have not dealt with a P in their life, especially being raised by one,  don’t understand or want to try and relate.  Instantly they shift their mind into “Judgment Mode” followed by placing an immediate distance between you and them.  This is a natural reaction and one we should accept without feeling rejected.  I don’t believe it’s healthy to make ourselves another victim by letting their distant reaction convince us we have a problem, and once again, it’s us. 

Mom Ignores Dad's Needs and Manages Total Control With the Head Palliative Nurse

On 100% oxygen, Dad had a difficult transition from the hospital to home.  His first night home Linda offered to stay as well as my brother and his wife who were sleeping in the back bedroom.  With Dad's hospital bed in the middle of the living room, Linda slept on the couch to help watch over him throughout the night.  Mom slept in her recliner right next to the head of Dad’s bed.  His first morning home I walked in to find Mom sitting in her recliner looking all exasperated.  Her recliner was much lower than his bed and Linda was at the same height on the couch.  They couldn't see him without standing up.

As I walked into the living room I saw Dad grab his mask and hold it up in the air as to try and get it out of the way.

Mom saw his hand go up over his head while holding the mask, Mom calmly said “put your mask back on Joe”. 

I quickly went to his bed side and placed his mask back on.  I started pumping his oxygen reserve bag.  I put his oxygen meter on that I had purchased for him months earlier.  His oxygen was at 69%.  No wonder he was fighting the mask, he was confused and knew he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. 

Mom said with a disgusted voice “he’s been like that all night”. 

I continued to pump the oxygen reserve bag “have you been pumping this bag”? 

She said with a surprising high pitch to her voice “No”.  As if she didn’t hear me tell her the night before how important it was to do so. 

Sue Tried to StopThe Mental Anguish

At the age of three Mom would hit me with a wire flyswatter leaving my legs bruised and my rear end red.  She would brag about how I seldom cried and didn’t care about the beatings.

Later in life, as a person reflects back on good times with a close friend, Mom would laugh asking Sue if she remembered when I was four she went through a flyswatter a week on my buttocks. 

As a child I refused to let her know how much she hurt me with her hair pulling , flyswatter beatings and spankings.  I disliked her immensely and wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that she was hurting me.  Linda would take me to the bathroom and put cream on the red and black marks and confront Mom about my bald spots.  Susie would stand watching quietly in the doorway storing the raw details of the events in her mind.  No one knew that the physical abuse we experienced in our childhood would become part of Sue’s emotional psyche and would torture her as an adult.    

A Response to Karen

I had a comment a few days back from a woman named Karen.  She commented on my post "Mom always expected preferential treatment or she demanded it - making everything about her".  Karen's mother-in-law shows the same type of behavior that our mother does.  I wanted to send her a note:

Hi Karen,

I’m happy for you and your husband.  The truth really does set you free.  I am amazed at how much clearer my life is now that there is no more confusion.  I asked my sister to comment on your post because her experience is so much like your husbands.  Her comment was lengthy (three continued comments) but necessary to make her point.

I wanted to take a moment and tell you that we confronted our mother…yes.  It was the creepiest thing I have ever experienced!  She was calm and uncaring, denied things until we threatened her with evidence and proof, then she simply agreed and quickly changed the subject.  She actually had the nerve to say “ok, what next”?  It was like she was enjoying it.  She didn’t care that we were on to her.  She proclaims to be a very strong catholic(always pulling out the rules of the church), yet when I told her she was empty, doesn’t believe in God and never loved our father, she just giggled like a seven year old child.  It literally gave me chills.  She seemed almost demonic.

Dad Co-Signed For Sue To Buy a Car Without Mom's Consent - She Recovers Control

In 1979 I bought a new car and its insurance. It was a time in my life when I had just finished high school and was working long hours waiting tables - making decent money.

Dad knew my work ethic was good and trusted my word. He took me to a new car lot and without discussing it with my mother he co-sign for the loan, I purchased a brand new Subaru. My mother wasn’t thrilled, but hid her real thoughts pretty well.  Instead, she worked on Dad behind my back. She tried to convince him it was a big mistake, that I’d default on the loan or be killed in a car accident. I was so happy that I was oblivious to her new game with me and Dad.
Kathleen Awad

Mom Always Expected Preferential Treatment or She Demanded It - Making Everything About Her

Due to the fact that the Interstitial Lung Disease had progressed to end stage, Dad was on 100% oxygen.  Without it he would slip away in a matter of minutes.  His situation was extremely critical.  With his prognosis at less than one month, I considered everyday with him another blessing.

As I arrived to see Dad, the respiratory therapist was setting up an alarm for his oxygen.  Mom glared at her with a look of contempt as she marched around his room.  She was furious.  She was ranting loudly about Dad taking his oxygen mask off while he was sleeping.  She was complaining to the nurses that she was exhausted and how Dad's restlessness kept her up all night.  When she saw me walk into Dad's room she said "I finally convinced a doctor to get an alarm.  Now if he takes his mask off, the alarm will go off.  At least then I can sleep, this is ridiculous!  I was up all night.  These night people need to do their job, I never see them.  They just expect me to do it for them".  All of the time she was ranting, Dad laid there helpless.  He was embarrassed for the nurses.  She had no boundaries, she was out of control.

It’s interesting how she claimed to be so exhausted, yet had all kinds of energy stomping and yelling as she made her way around Dad’s hospital room, throwing her arms around while demanding the night nurses do their job.  She bounced up out of the spare bed three times in the course of ten minutes – each time a new staff member approached Dad’s room, she was up and in full operative mode displaying her authority with each of them with her Bullish behavior. 

A Glance at Mom's Force Field When We Were Children

Our childhood home was spotless.  We were never allowed to cook or bake.  The kitchen was off limits to all of us except our oldest sister Linda.  Even the dogs were kept well under control and well mannered.  They were very quiet and knew their place in the house.  If they didn’t, Mom would have gotten rid of them as she did with any adult or child in her life that got in her way.  As time went on, she would kick people out of our lives countless times, boasting to others about her wins.

Mom Lied About The Surgeon Reports

Looking at the medical reports today they state the preoperative diagnosis was Enuresis which means unable to control urination / bedwetting.  For this reason I was brought to the hospital for further examination and treatment.

The reports state the impression was that I had urinary cystitis with a pyelonephritis to be ruled out.

Urinary cystitis – a chronic pain condition that affects the bladder. 

Pyelonephritis – an ascending urinary tract infection that has reached the kidneys.

Yet I had absolutely no pain.  In fact I was confused and didn't know why I was in the hospital.

After the lab work, x-rays and the cystiscopys the results of both procedures showed acute hemorrhagic cystitis. – The temporary presence of red blood cells in the urine is seen in bladder infections in children as a result of viral infection, along with inflammation of the bladder.  I was put on an antibiotic and sent home.

Later I found out from Susie that Mom had used these hospital visits to assassinate my character by telling everyone the Surgeon Report stated small balls of toilet paper were found in my bladder during the cystiscopy.  She actually accused me of stuffing them in my urethra which resulted in infections. 
Not true.  Anyone that knows the body anatomy would question how successful a child would be doing such an act. 

Dad Took An Early Retirement From IBM And Ended Up As Mom's Employee In Her Ceramic Shop

In the cellar Dad worked in an area with no ventilation.  Not even a window.  He never complained even when people would walk in and say “I can’t breathe in here, how can you stand it”? 

Wearing no mask, face all freckled with dust and hands powdered like a baker “ya, it’s all that fine dust that Ma has, I get done early so I can get cleaned up before Ma gets up”.  He would say with a kind smile. 

Later when Dad's lung disease progressed to end stage, the doctors all asked him what he did for a living.  They were intrigued with the disease and wanted to understand the root cause.  Being a model maker, Dad insisted the ventilation was more than sufficient.  He was adamant with the doctors telling them precautions were taken.  He told us many times there was never metal dust or debris in his work area, there was more than adequate ventilation at his workbench.   My heart sank as tears ran down my face when we discussed with the emergency room doctor the possibility of Dad’s illness being caused by ceramic dust.  There was no other explanation. 

Ironically Mom had no reaction.  She was stone cold, uncaring and quite honestly not interested in the conversation. 

The Following Are All of Mom’s Behavioral Traits

·        Lack of Feelings/Emotions

o   Doesn’t feel love or empathy 

o   Glib and superficial charm

o   Exhibits shallow emotions

o   Revolted by genuine affection

o   Looks at being humane as weak and pathetic

o   Calm, callused manipulator

o   Neglects reasonability

o   Has lack of remorse , shame or guilt

o   Believes she is above the law or rules

o   No sense of personal boundaries

o   Strong feelings of entitlement

o   Incapable of real human attachment

o   Sexual Deviant – projecting her fantasy onto others – accusations are part of her personal assaults

·        Controlling Personality

o   Rarely works for others – must have full control

o   Never admits wrongful doing

o   Whatever you have, she’s had it ten times worse

o   Steals attention.  Changes the subject frequently to regain spot light

o   Isolates from outsiders – they require high maintenance, clutter up her game board

o   Throws tirade or verbal out bursts when her control is in jeopardy

o   Character assassination is her main crime - targets are always a threat to her relationship with main victim / main accomplice.

o   Kick –outs include scapegoats entire family and acquaintances

o   Uses projective identification

o   Creates captive audience - relives offenses – creating confusion but not stopping until she forces her audience’s affirmation.