Apologies in advance. This is going to be long. I will try to be concise. And I should or could actually retitle this “Mother are you trying to make me suicidal?”

You decide if this qualifies as “traumatic.”

So, earlier last week, I stopped off at the pub (which henceforth will now be termed “cesspool”) to talk to two of the three decent people I have met there–Escher and the woman who invited me over for Thanksgiving. I had two drinks and in stormed the Police and Paramedics. Or maybe it was just the Police as they dress in similar uniform here. Just like everyone else, I was…WTF?! They approached the owner (or one of them–a husband and wife team) and then came up to me.

“Are you PA?” said in typical, Police authoritative voice. “Yes…?” I was stunned. What did I do? What’s going on? Huh? Again, hence me not knowing if it was Police and/or Paramedics–just a gang of uniforms. I was escorted out for all to see–and as you know, cesspool is small, full of regulars of which I am one. I wanted to die. And speaking of dying…

Apparently, my mother had called 911 and said that I was suicidal. I adamantly said NO! There must be some mistake! They asked me to confirm her name, where she lived. This was not a mistake. I was ordered into the ambulance and here we go…interrogation central. Full psych hx, all meds, full health hx, where did I work, what did I do there, what did I have to eat that day, what day was it (they even tried to trip me up on that one!) They even asked me to roll up my sleeves all the way–looking for track marks, cutting scars? Well, the latter are there but the former, surely not! Oh yes…illicit substance use… am I forgetting anything…probably. Ah, did I need to go to hospital…NO! I AM NOT SUICIDAL! I also explained my mother’s mental hx and that she is undiagnosed. But I could have told them anything and they would have thought it was a line of bull as they have to take every 911 call seriously, right?

I was bawling my eyes out…I was so ashamed, embarrassed, humiliated, confused…

I asked if I needed to speak to the Police next. They said no. They were outside the ambulance listening to every word, anyway. I explained to the Police that I needed to go back in and pay my bill. I had bought some drinks for the others. I also begged them to let me explain to the owner that I didn’t do anything wrong! They wouldn’t let me. One officer watched me like a hawk as I paid up and another spoke to the owner. Through my tears, I told the bartender (all fabulous women at the cesspool) what had happened in hope that it would get relayed to the owner. I was then told by the Police to go home and speak to my mother. They didn’t escort me, just watched me go.

I came home to frantic calls. Lots. Apparently, my mother had received a phone message from some woman/girl saying: “…mom…mom…?” and then a hang up. She thought it was me and freaked. She then called my sister who I believe added to the situation as she (I think) told my mother that she was worried about me too. However, I do not know if this was before or after the 911 call was placed. My sister even called ex-partner who tried to smack some sense into my sister and told her that we were going out on the weekend and I was fine! We had been in contact recently about that and I was perfectly tickety-boo! However, this was again(?) after the 911 call had been placed. I do not know. Probably after.

So at this point after running the emotional gamut hither and yon, I am now at the point of–well, a little ticked off and still very WTF? Now, I know my mother is nuts but come the hell on. And the bitch of it was, my cell phone had died and was at home charging! If I had it on me, I would have picked up one of the bajillion messages from both of them!

I called my mother first to let her know that I wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. Line busy–I knew she was on the horn with my sister. I call my sister. At least she has call waiting as my mother is a total luddite (not so much her husband) and a mental case that never picks up the phone. But that’s okay–I am a mental case that ignores my phone sometimes too. We all do. My sister answers me and says, let me dump lunatic mother and I’ll call you back. We talk for who knows how long. This is when I find out about the whole bizarre message she received and I’m still reeling and…ugh.

My sister then starts to give me a sort of “guilt trip but I love you” about my drinking. I’m thinking, this really isn’t a good time right now considering what I’ve just been through? Then she tells me that she dumped a whole lot of crap on my mom that she’s never said before and after this “incident” (more like a fucking nightmare for me?!) she thinks mommy is ready to open up and talk. I’m sorry, I’m really not in the mood for a family therapy session right now! My sister asks if I’m going to call our mother. Hell no, I say! My sister can call and say I’m FINE, NOT SUICIDAL and I have no idea when I’m going to speak to her.

So we end our lengthy exchange, I’m trying to relax and then a while later, Mumsy calls. Oh, good grief. I’d better pick up or again, she’s going to think I’ve bloody topped myself. She calls and apologizes. I am very terse, say I am tired and do not wish to talk. She mentioned the anniversary of her mother’s/our grandmother’s death (as did my sister–did my sister put that bug in her ear?) Fair enough. That could push my mother into some kind of delusional/psychotic state of mind. But she hasn’t acted in any kind of flipped out way like this in years.

And this really sucks. I blogged before about having “Vomit Trauma”…also induced by dear Mumsy. When we were kids, it was sheer panic if we ever threw up. She was more concerned about us making a mess anywhere other than our wellbeing or…well, being well. So with her shrieking when my sister and I were tiny sick ones…we learned basically that throwing up is bad. I have to be gravely, physically ill to throw up. Well, unbelievably the stress of all of this made me actually puke. That was a real shocker too.

So I try and go to bed, get some sleep, call and cancel appointments, work for the next day. Idiot landlord doesn’t pick up the phone to get his message when he was coming by for repairs the next day and comes in to find me in bed!

So yes…the next day…Escher comes and brings coffee and tea and we sit outside and talk. Something dawns on me. When I called my mother from hospital in the spring, she told me that a few years ago, I had called her with the exact same message!!!

Oh.my.god.

I told her that indeed, I did not! This was my sixth hospitalization and the first time I had ever called her in psychiatric crisis. I never left that message. Okay…is my mother indeed (or has she become, was she…whatever) completely delusional? I know she was so very much in the past…*sigh*

Another thing I discussed with Escher was should I ever return to cesspool again! We both decided that I should pop by to sort of “redeem myself.” Well, get a load of this one! The owner banned me. The reason why? Not that I was told to my face but Escher and another man (second of the decent three I met) were busy trying to run interference for me over several days after it all went down. I was banned for psych reasons/meds/danger to the cesspool! Oh yeah…wee PA who sits, chats, minds her own business all the time while there. I do not know if he obtained this information from patrons or the Police/Paramedics but if it was the latter, that is a major breach of confidentiality. But no matter, I am never returning to cesspool again! It is not worth anything. Not my time, energy, money, anything on this planet, in the universe. And such discrimination…very charming.

Oh, but I can’t move on yet…

On Monday, I get a “tough love” sort of email from my sister. She tells me that “she knows things are not right in my life right now!” Oh really…and how do you know this? Yes, I told her about the drinking but it was just disclosure. I told her that I was working on it. She actually said she was glad the Police found me! WTF (again!) She was concerned about me cycling (because of the Bipolar) cycling (because of being on stimulants.) Also, the whole drinking issue (she was married to an alcoholic so sure…that’s a sensitive issue but I hardly think you can compare me to her husband who was just awful.)

So I proceeded to set her straight–hopefully. Here’s my entire psych hx (and why I used to be so out of control and why your perception is shaded–that is to say, I was either not medicated or improperly medicated.) I know when I cycle as I have learned to track it well over the years–in fact, here is how my cycling evolved. Here is how it has changed so this is how I know. Meds. Stims and Bipolar is controversial, there have been no studies so there are no hard numbers. Nonetheless, some people can take them; some people can’t. I can. It’s the same with Antidepressants. However, with those, I fall into the “can not take them,” camp.

Then she tells me about “Dual Diagnosis.” Yes, I know what that is. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that in certain parts of Canada that actually means a combination of someone with a Developmental Disability and a Psychiatric Disorder! The proper term is actually “Concurrent Disorders.” Oh, I had given her enough mumbo-jumbo with my psych knowledge, already. And yes, she also told me about the high rates among people with Bipolar and substance abuse and denial. Yes, I am aware of that as well.

I’m tired. I want to put all of this behind me. Though with my family being so hyper about things, I’m not sure how long it will take. I understand the caring attitude but I know, I know. I already feel like shit enough as it is. And I don’t think “tough love” works on adults. We make our own choices and are beyond being “parented” by other adults. We need to somehow find the strength to quit fucking up on our own. When people we care about make us feel more guilty than we already do ourselves, does that just exacerbate the problem?

Anyway, I think that’s it? So what do you all think? Is that enough to warrant a traumatic experience?

I might just leave this up for a while and continue to take a blogging break…we’ll see. Again, I am completely knackered over all of this.

Ah…and although I do appreciate Escher’s help, he has now become quite needy. He has been calling every day and I have not been answering. I finally called last night and said to him to not think I was ignoring him but I really have so much going on as there has been more fallout over this. He said, “Fine. I won’t call your for a month!” Oh, lord. I said to him, it wasn’t like that…I just needed to sort some things out.

*sigh*

Addendum: Please forgive any grammatical/spelling/punctuation/formatting errors. I just wanted to get this damn thing written.


  1. Nicole

    Well, well, well… PA! It definatly sounds like something worthy of being tired and upset over. Very emotionally draining. That is alot to take in and somehow try to sense of. I think alot more of it probably stems from past history with the family, as to why this made it even more to take in. And, I can understand how upsetting this is to have taken place infront of a bunch of people who don’t know the situation, don’t know the past family history of why this is even happening… and they are going to be going on hear-say over something that never even took place. Then ban you??? WTF- IS RIGHT!!! Like you said, it’s not worth your time or money. Sounds like your mother jumped the gun on making the call (if it even occured).
    Most people would be happy their family was intervening in helping someone they think really needs help, but from the sounds of it, she is the one who needs a little intervention.
    And it sounds like you have a pretty good relationship with your sister (compared to your other relatives), that she is probably worried about you as well. Maybe she is trying to stop something she think may be coming because you are the only one of her blood relatives that she has a relationship with. Although, do not get me wrong…. I do think that her energy would be better spent trying to get your mother some help?
    BTW, although losing her mother, what did that hafta do with the situation? Is that her excuse for acting out the way she did? I know someone who does similar things…. she will have a complete freak attack and cause tons of drama, but then she blames it on something going on in her life or something medical rather then apologize.
    Dear PA….. sounds like there won’t be any sort of rational conclusion as to why it all happened. I know it’s easier to give advice when you are not in the situation, but I think you would be better off by working on things with your sister and don’t try to make sense of anything your mother does or says. Just keep the communication with your sister open, and she should know just as well as you do…. your mother isn’t in the right frame of mind to be worrying about others.
    Keep your head up, Sweet PA!!!! You have alot of people who care about you:)

    -Nicole-

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  2. sodajerk

    Well that was a major thing.

    the whole thing in front of a place you felt comfortable,i cannot imagine what that would be like.and then they ban you.

    Fuck em PA.

    as Nicole says i would try and keep things going with yer sister if you can.
    i have had major fall outs with my brother in the past,but i am so glad we keep things goin.

    hang in there,and know many folk are concerned and carin for ya.

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  3. Hellfire! And I thought I’d just written a long post!

    *takes deep breath, exinguishes cigarette and attempts to get thoughts in order. And possibly teaches grandmother to suck eggs in following comments*

    1) You are not responsible for you mother and sisters reactions, past experiences or panics.
    2)You are fully entitled to some downtime to recover from and process recent events.
    3) While Escher may have issues of his own, it is unfair to push buttons and seek attention from you at this time.
    4)I’d agee with other comments about keeping lines open with your sister if possible, but only to an extent you are comfortable with at he moment.
    5) The Cesspool – I would be hurt too. It shows the owner doesn’t list to the front line bar crew, who obviously know you well enough to judge you are a good customer. Maybe he should come over here and pull a few pints where I used to work – that would be an education! A really busy pub next to the local psyh facility used by patients and staff, I was often unable to tell which were which. He obviously doesn’t need the money of a good regular. Fool.
    6) The paramedics – dunno how things work over there, but it would have been very different here – they would probably have gone to your mothers house too.
    7)Will a pack of finest Yorkshire loose leaf tea be impounded by customs? If not, let me know and I’ll post some!

    Take it easy on yourself. Fix what you can, discard what is broken. And know you’ve got lots of support out here in the world of blog.

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  4. tracy

    Oh, damn, what an experience, i’m so sorry…the humiliation of being “drug from the pub”, i would have absolutely been in tears as well (not like I’m not in tears alot these days anyhow!)…and then the shit family fall out, oh, yes, this all comes under the heading of “traumatic”!!!! i really loved what you wrote about tought love not working so well on us adults and and people we care about making us feel more guilty than we already do our selves…oh, yessssss!!!! theat is e x a c t l y what i am going through with my mil ann my husband( who i know i told you blames me for his severd depression and at the same time refuses help…except to try a new pill and we all know it takes more than that…arghhhh!!!!) life at home sucks, but you obviously don’t need to hear all this right now, i am sorry…please take care of you and thank you for telling us what happened, again, i am so sorry about “the inccident”…take care of yourself, wee one, love and hugs, tracy

    ps thenk god for “my” sweet psych resident…

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  5. tracy

    talk about typo’s, sorry for all of mine….there are a ton of ’em…..especially that should be : ps thank God for “My” sweet psych resident

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  6. damewiggy

    sounds horrible and exhausting, i’m sorry.

    i wouldn’t even know what to suggest. perhaps your family should sit in with you for some counseling so they can better understand you and what you go through. that way, if they are actively involved, and really do intend to help you in your recovery, they’d have a better foundation, fewer assumptions, and more productive roles. and of course, an objective party to keep the balance would be ideal.

    hang in there, and try not to be too set back from this — as shaken up as you may be right now, perhaps something good can come from it all in the long run.

    xx

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  7. Okay…thanks for your comments everyone. Here we go.

    Hi Nicole, yes–it is sort of a two-fold situation re: family and public crap in my neighbourhood. And cesspool is bad as it can be a very uncivilized place to hang out–obviously? I only went there as it was close by. If I feel the need to hang about elsewhere there are far better and nicer bars. The “clientele” are all having a great time with this one, I am sure. They can all go to hell.

    My mother is nuts, always has been, always will be. There is no way of “intervening.” She does not believe she is ill. As far as her mother’s death as a trigger for someone who has delusions or psychoses–yes, highly understandable? Recall my break up and moving house. Threw me right (back) into the loony bin. And I’ve never been delusional or psychotic. Stressors can be triggers for the crazies.

    My relationship with my sister is a bit strange right now, perhaps? There has been some further fallout after this and I really just want to move on. Ah yes, I did mention that above.

    Indeed, there is nothing rational about this at all! I felt like I was sucked into the bloody Twilight Zone!

    Hi sodajerk, thanks dear. Yes…fuck ’em is right.

    Hi Beattie, oh…that’s quite a list there! I got a couple of chuckles–thank you. The best was point number five. Now that sounds like an interesting place!

    Although, really…not so different from cesspool? As said above, the people there are pretty nuts. I have actually spoken to a lot of the more…hmmm…not so asshole-ish ones and they’ve been on meds, are on meds…no, really! But they’ve been cool about it. As have I. Who the hell cares, right?

    Ah, sod it. I know the people I have been nice to probably won’t or don’t care but the assholes who always will be assholes are the ones who are just lapping it up like the pints they drown themselves in.

    Hmmm…tea over the pond, eh? Well, if it’s loose, the dogs might sniff it out and if they open it–and if customs are really dumb–will they mistake it for pot? Oh, I don’t want to get us into trouble! But perhaps if it’s nicely wrapped up in a box or a tin or something, that would work? Actually, I don’t know if the dogs are trained to sniff out tea *laughing*

    My Canadian ex-pat friend brought home some bagged tea from some la-de-da, high end shop in the summer and gave me them. I can’t remember the place. He wasn’t hassled but they were probably tucked away in his luggage–and again–bagged.

    Hi tracy, oh I don’t mind hearing about your troubles! Hey, misery loves company right? Thanks for your thoughts as well about my thoughts on the “tough love” thing.

    I mean, it may work for some? Perhaps if someone really laid down the law? But I think with adults, you need to do the “rock bottom” thing. And even then, sometimes people still don’t learn. Each situation is individual, though and I know with me, someone putting more guilt on my shoulders just makes me feel worse. Absolutely.

    Hi damewiggy, oh don’t worry about not knowing what to suggest (or even say?) I’m feeling rather like that myself!

    Your suggestion is indeed a good one but I fear it would not work for…well at least one reason. Mother. It has taken me years to finally make any sort of “breakthrough” with her regarding my mental illness issues. For ages I simply kept quiet but over the last several years, I began to become more vocal and speak up about my diagnoses, my meds whenever we were together (rarely.) Most of the time it would just drift off into the ether…like I was never heard.

    I finally got up the nerve to call her in the spring during the last hospitalization, right? That was major for me. Huge. So, she “sort of” gets it. But because she’s so mental herself and in denial, disbelief…well…she’d be a disaster in any kind of therapy session. She’d be a raving lunatic! She is also completely self-absorbed so she would try and turn it all into “her life.”

    Also…she is very anti-Western Medicine so sure…me going to a shrink, huh? I think she respects that as “my choice” but would she really be willing to engage in “my choice” of practising “that choice?”

    My sister? Well, after she is still sort of harping about things and guilting my ass off about things…I need to see how that goes. Yes, lines of communication open but as Beattie said–my comfort level? Sure, but if things continue, I am at the point of saying, please stop this because you are actually contributing to my mental decline by badgering me. In fact, her email dropped me down a bit on the mood scale when I received it on Monday.

    What I am thinking of when I get my head a bit more clear (perhaps?) is speaking to my mother and saying DO NOT ever do that again. I will explain everything that happened afterward and how I was treated and that sort of thing can NEVER happen again. Do not EVER call 911 about me EVER under ANY circumstances. The only time you may do this is if I AM WITH YOU and I drop to the floor unconscious in front of your eyes or I have a severe enough injury, break a limb, whatever that requires immediate, medical intervention.

    I should probably do this with my sister as well. Neither of them live near me and I should also explain that I do know at least a few people(?) (including ex-partner–who said this to my sister) that I could call or I can bloody well call 911 myself! I mean, that’s how I admitted myself into hospital in the spring!

    This also brings back some bad memories from when a friend also from out of town called 911 saying he thought I was suicidal after we were on the phone and I had been drinking and just kvetching about life. I blogged about it if you wish to read. It’s about who is better to deal with psych crises: Police or Paramedics. They actually dragged me to hospital and threatened me with arrest if I did not go.

    Thank Zeus that didn’t happen this time around.

    I should probably add that to my little “speech” to my mother and sister too. Just exactly what the Police are capable of and how I can basically have no rights if they choose?

    Not sure it will work if they (or certainly my mother) flips out again but I can try.

    Thanks again, everyone. You’ve all been great.

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  8. Wow!! I’m gobsmacked poppet, that sounds like pure craziness, I’m not surprised you feel exhausted. Hope everything all works out. Fish x

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  9. Cal

    Oh my goodness, PA!

    What an utterly horrendous ordeal – the last thing you needed right now. I can’t believe what you’ve been through – and yes, you have every right to feel traumatised!

    I’m so sorry – and dare those bastard spacktards ban you from their shitty cesspool? How DARE they? Like, you were bad publicity for them or something?

    I’m actually seething at the moment. How dare they.

    I really hope that things do get better soon. In all fairness, I don’t think that anything could get worse – hopefully it will only get better for you!

    And if you ever need to rant, you know where to email…

    Sending you much love across the blogosphere (and actually the real planet, as well!)

    :)

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  10. Ah..two more of you showing up. Thank you.

    Oh, I am losing my mind. Someone take me away. Will one of you take me away? Will any of you take me away?

    Sorry fishwithoutbicycle but English women make me die–you know this. I just melt and fall to my knees simply from their accents! Oh, that would at the very least soothe my right now. Just speak to me in your beautiful, dulcet tones? Could you send me a tape, some kind of recording of you? I know you probably can’t take me away but…?

    Even if you could take me away, I’d try to avoid getting into anything at all sexy with you. No, no…contrary to “popular belief” gays DO NOT try to convert heterosexuals!

    But you might find PA kind of cute and charming nonetheless.

    Oh, good grief. Indeed, where the hell is HP! She always tells me I’m getting out of control with the whole “English Women Thing!” But in a funny way. She doesn’t mind either and just laughs at me and thinks I’m sweet.

    Yes, she’s a dear.

    Right. Let’s move on.

    Yes, fishwithoutbicycle…gobsmacked. I couldn’t agree with you more. It will all work out. It has to? I mean, what can I do?

    xo

    Hi Cal, thank you sweetie…it is just…ahhhh! I am glad that you are so angry about it. You are pretty much taking it away from me and reducing things?

    I have mentioned “off blog” to people that I have “issues” or problems(?) with anger. I don’t get it. I don’t “feel” it. In this case, sure–I was or can be angry a bit but with total strangers, people I barely know or someone I am quite emotionally detached from but the anger is VERY short lived.

    If someone whom I care about does something that should anger me…again, I just don’t “get it.” I feel confused, bewildered. I don’t understand why… I also feel tremendous guilt. What did I do wrong?

    So yes…

    I still don’t even know what to say about all of this. Emotionally, it’s too bizarre…I’m not “angry” at anyone at cesspool because they fall into the “stranger” category. I’m not angry at my mother because she falls into the “emotionally detached” category. I’m not angry at my sister because I know she cares but we’re just trying to muddle our way through family trauma and I’m just too tired and she sort of falls into, I guess…the “I don’t understand/guilt” category.

    Fucking hell.

    I’m just not an angry person. Maybe I need “Anger Management” in the form of a way to learn to get angry as opposed to learning how to control it?

    So yes…will any of you lovely English women readers send me a recording of your voice to put me at ease? *grin*

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  11. Oh, good grief. Indeed, where the hell is HP! She always tells me I’m getting out of control with the whole “English Women Thing!” But in a funny way. She doesn’t mind either and just laughs at me and thinks I’m sweet.

    Yes, she’s a dear.

    *****
    A dear? Arggh. That makes me think of those Monty Python women. ..

    Well. here I am, finally…and, yes, you are getting out of hand with the English woman thang of yours! :) Although, as an English woman myself, I’m mighty glad someone appreciates us.

    Sorry for being absent for so long. I’d like to say I was making you a lengthy relaxation tape in my dulcet English tones…but, alas, the truth is far more boring. Work, work, and work. Oh, and the occasional killing of plants in the garden.

    Anyway, truly horrified to hear what you have been through. Even if your mother did have concerns and felt the need to do something, I can’t believe the insensitive way the police handled the situation. Talk about heavy handed. Hope things are going better now.

    Tske a break from blogging if you feel you need to..but my money is on you being back among ‘friends’

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  12. Hey Health-Psych, I guess you somehow heard my “distress call?” Or my “idiocy call?”

    Sorry for calling you a dear. Or a “deer?” I’ll come up with something better. I certainly don’t want to give you any hassle or angst over fun things I call you (or anyone else here for that matter.)

    Work, busy, eh? Well, maybe it will keep you out of the garden? I am terrible with plants too. I neglect them–forget about them like they are simply part of the furniture and not living things. And even if I do remember to take care of them, I kill them anyway.

    Thanks for your support. Again, just trying to move on. I ran into another guy that is not an arse from cesspool the other day and he was all…oh, haven’t seen you in a while. I responded, hmmm, haven’t heard? Apparently, not.

    I was thinking that it will all blow over eventually (if it hasn’t already) and the idiots will just move on to someone else to gossip about or some other crap. They lack so many brain cells there I’m sure their short term memories are blown to hell anyway.

    Yes, I’m doing a bit better…and yes…will probably get back blogging…soon…soon-ish?

    Thanks…erm…sweetie? Is that one okay?

    And you’re funny about the tape–good memory *wink*

    PA

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  13. HP

    Ah, PA, don’t really mind being called a dear. Somehow made me feel old though. Perhaps it’s that English term ‘old dear’ that came to mind…Just kidding with you. Call me whatever you want…good or bad. :)

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  14. Oh, HP, I can’t remember who is older…you or me? No matter… I didn’t know there was some kind of “problem” with “old dear?”

    Another blogger once told me that when I told them they were “cute,” that was reserved for babies?!

    I was like…oh…sorry (again.)

    Funny how compliments can be somewhat misconstrued. Although, I suppose in Canada, someone might not like to be called “dear” or “cute.” Actually, I can understand that.

    Really? I can understand not liking to be called anything complimentary! I have problems with that… Bashful and embarrassed PA. I’m trying to work on that. It’s better if it comes from someone I know and trust? And I like?

    Anyway…

    Here, when in “coupledom,” the term “…yes dear…” may mean, alright, okay, leave me alone, I get it…quit badgering me…negative sense. It’s actually gone so far as to be taken as a huge joke. People say it when talking about their partners in a really whiny voice to others?

    Wrinkle nose first: “Yesss, Deeaarrrr…”

    However, it can mean a (boring) term of endearment. I was just too bloody tired to say anything more creative so that’s what came out on the screen.

    So you are beautiful, creative, intelligent, enthusiastic, sensitive, encouraging, strong…

    Now, you must tell me where you hail from in the UK. For then, I should (or could…or might?) come up with something fun. I’m getting pretty good.

    Just ask fishwithoutbicycle… I threw her some good ones from her part of the UK and I actually stumped her. One of the most actually more “colourful” parts of the UK in terms of dialects and expressions.

    Yes, I know…I know…UK obsession. I think it also may be in part because Canadian English is so dreadfully boring. Although one of my “references” has a lot of things that we say over here. That is not really surprising as you “owned” us basically forever. When I did my “Canada Day” post and some research, I laughed so hard because our country finally unleashed ourselves from England when I was 12! 1982!

    HA!

    So give me your origin and let me play.

    PA

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  15. Yikes, PA! What a nightmare! I’m impressed at how rational and kind to everyone you managed to be. Wow!

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  16. Hi invisibleemma. Thank you. You know, you really don’t (or can’t) get anywhere in a situation like that without keeping a cool head.

    I just had to go back and read all of this too at the risk or repeating myself–again, rough day today.

    True, I was rather in “panic mode” when it initially all was going on but due to the fact that:

    a) I have had to deal with police officers during mental health crises

    b) also paramedics (who are much better and more qualified)

    c) I have enough experience navigating the mental health system here anyway

    d) I was not inebriated

    e) my mental state was fine (i.e. my mother’s and sister’s actually were not!)

    So, based upon all of that, I really think it made it a whole lot easier.

    It was really the “aftermath” that was actually more difficult. Trying to deal with both my mother and sister.

    My sister just kept hammering and yammering away at how “unwell” I was when I really wasn’t. Alright, I may have not been the model of sanity but come on! I have mental illnesses that will not just disappear! It’s not like one day I’ll wake up and the Bipolar, ADD, Seizures and Migraines will be “cured.”

    I’m sorry. It doesn’t work that way.

    Fuck, me. She even “blamed me” and said I had a role in it. I see. I guess my “role” is simply having illnesses and diagnoses.

    Anyway, everyone is all fine and dandy now. Really, I think it honestly was their mental states as my mother is totally crazy and undiagnosed herself, and my sister was under unbelievable stress and it just got thrown on to me.

    Like

  17. Very good advice in this page, anime takes up a lot of of my personal free time.

    Like

  18. Hi Terrie Fisler. Thanks for coming by, and welcome to my blog. Thanks also for saying that you’ve come across some valuable advice on this page. I’m always flattered when people say such things about my blog.

    Also, another anime fan! Excellent!

    Take care,
    PA

    Like

  1. 1 Happy Birthday PA… « Patient Anonymous: Just Another Head Case

    […] telephone call that I knew would be coming from my mother. I was a little bit concerned after this unbelievable bloody bullshit that went down last fall, so maybe I should be around on my birthday or Christmas? Lord knows she rarely calls other than […]

    Like

  2. 2 Oh Yeah, So This Is A Good One! « Patient Anonymous: Just Another Head Case

    […] took me a long time to write it out as it hurt a lot but this is what basically happened. It’s not pretty. In fact, it was embarrassing, ugly, shocking, frightening…and […]

    Like




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