Rings around the moon.

Not Maslow. My email name is linked to this blog, so it shows up as 'me' on Google search. I can't have that. So what's happening? The glimpses I get of reality are never comfortable or pleasant. First came the realisation that exService-User would listen to me with a black, fuming, poisonous rage in his heart. Malevolence is how it felt. Have we negotiated through that? Not sure. Next comes abuse. He self identifies as a covert narcissist and as an abuser. I noticed that he is getting off on telling his story... Whilst looking at me. And there was the shameless, absence of respect for his or my dignity the other day. As he sat at the top of the stairs, pants around his ankles. The question is Mad or bad? Bad isn't the right word, but you know what I mean. I'll put it better. Is it unconscious or conscious behavior.. I think it is conscious and about abuse, kind of low level. I called it out this morning, in a straight, just namin...

Too far and too bad... And what happens then? The last time We phoned the crisis team...  'Go to A+E or phone the police'. When people talk to me, therapists I mean, they say 'he may need medication' and I've no idea what I'm supposed to do about that. I usual find myself saying 'If it were me, I'd take it!' Point being...he doesn't want to take medication. Because He believes he is beyond help... Until someone helps him over that.... And I can't see where to go or what to do to get that for him... The CBT therapist is his only hope now, since the horse lady thinks he is too far gone to reach. A+E Or ThePolice? In that case It's just us. And I'm the focus of his rage... So... So, glad this house has rooms with lockable doors.

Worse, much worse. Yesterday began with screaming....didn't get any better. This morning, the same. I am the person who demands reasonable behavior... I can't do anything other. Standing there saying 'go have a shower, put on clean clothes, clean your teeth, you will feel much better'. I feel like an automaton - at best. At worst I fall into despair and become paralyzed unable to do anything except weep silently. Can't give him comfort for something that isn't happening to him. Can't do 'self soothing' for the person who needs to self soothe.. Can only stand there and say - just have a shower, put on clean clothes, everything is fine... And remember my rules for myself My own protocols and ways out. It is difficult to find those rules and protocols, but they are becoming clearer. Mostly it involves saying what I'm going to do and why, and what I will do when x,y,z behavior from him, doesn't happen. Everything has to ...

OK, you get it... Clearly we can all see I'm fighting to keep my head above the dark waters... But so many, many of us are. Nothing new here folks, move on. All around this world, people are mourning the loss of a loved one who is slipping away into dementia or psychosis, or drugs. The real question is, how do I not drown? What am I doing that keeps me going? Ha, talking to myself - but it is called 'writing a blog' Yeah, pass the Resperidone. What's mad? What's sane? Who cares as long as it is not anti-social (is my conclusion!) Let the conversation (with myself) begin. What do I think about Summerland... Summerland was the first idea we used and I hope, we have now learned from our mistakes? Summerland is where the carer sets out to create a list of lovely experiences to help Service_User begin to feel as if life is worth living. We went to the sea, to other places...long car trips... Service_User sat quietly (happy that the CIA or MI5 could...

This is the last post for some time, some impossible to foresee stretching out into infinity kind of time. The endless loops of "I should have....when I was a boy" and "Yes but it is too late now, the CIA will torture me forever" have replaced "I have a brain tumor and will die within two hours". Content changes, form remains the same. Ex-Service User smoked 'Whitechapal skunk' so kind of what do you expect is partially how I feel. Alongside my anger and despair. Princess K was due to visit last week and husband and I made it absolutely clear that she was never setting foot in this house again... People are very kind to us, but I'm falling apart. Last week we went out on the promised trip to Glastonbury Tor, but the painfulness of the constant monologue about pedophilia and being a psychopath, exService _user's total lack of social awareness...I can't remember now if I got to the stage when I can't walk and just stand still ...

Apparently images of what has gone 'beyond' remain fixed, like ghosts, on the event horizon. No one has seen this? But it is a pretty good metaphor, and I can't think of a better one. For memory... In many ways I have no idea what has happened. In theory, I was there. In theory a set of linear events unfolded one after another in a chain. Link after link, each one caused by the other. My memory is like the event horizon. What happened is gone beyond. The ghostly remains are empty... Yet mark a line between where I am, divided between functional word-smithing, and silent, dumb experiencing. Regards actuality, events marked by text messages for instance... My younger daughter thought to rescue ex-Service User from us, his horrible parents who had threatened to kick him out (30 days hence) and to that end, bought train tickets.  Only it was thirty days, so ex-Service User was not in imminent danger of homelessness, and we had been suffering f...