How Do You Know It Is Finally Time to Move On?

A huge part of my psyche has been shaped by my parents. They are both still alive and live approximately 3 hours away by car. Needless to say, I visit rarely, and now with the gas prices being the way they are ($3.89/gallon) as well as a one way payment of $10 in tolls for the turnpike, I shake my head and tell myself it all is not worth it. When they lived 2 hours away, I had no problem visiting and would drop in unannounced. However, they rarely, if ever, come to visit me. Over all the years I have been out of their house at age 18, I can probably count on one hand the times they have come to visit my places. And yes, that hurts. It makes me feel like I am not good enough. Makes me feel like my place is not worth coming to.

My abode is clean. I have two cats and I take care of the litter pan religiously. Right now I need to take care of cleaning the kitchen; I have some dishes that need tending to as well as some bags to be put out in the recyclable bin. But it's not something that is crucially needed to be taken care of. In the meantime, I have had nothing but grief with my parents, especially my mother. My mother lived her unsettled life through me and I am not good enough as a person because I am not working due to permanent disabilities, both mental and physical. Right now my father is ailing with Alzheimers disease/bipolar/dementia. My mother has A-fib which rears its ugly head when she becomes agitated. When my oldest nephew passed away as a result of a fluke car accident three years ago, our family totally fell apart. My brother was incensed at my parents' lack of sympathy and being unable to comfort him and his family like they should have. The 'rents stated they could not come down to visit my nephew, who was in a coma until his passing. I firmly believe my brother and sister-in-law were wanting to pull the plug and wanted everyone possible to come pay their respects before they did so. (I have never asked my brother if that was indeed true.) The last straw came a couple weeks ago. I had been calling to speak with my mom EVERY SINGLE DAY to check on their situation. I visited once two years ago and instead of staying for a week, I left after a day and a half because I couldn't deal with the back biting, the sniping, the comments. Haven't been back since. Anyhow, I had called and gotten no response so I took it upon myself to call the hospital. Yes, she was admitted due to divertiiculitis. The problem was that my father could not be left alone. Turns out my uncle and aunt live five doors down the block and would check in on him. Both my brother and I received e-mails assessing the situation. It came down to me going up to take care of my father. Well, I refused. He has stopped eating and has a major attitude. He is a shell of the man I remember. I discussed it with my therapist and psychiatrist, and we all agreed that me going up would not be beneficial to my health, either physically or mentally. I am not comfortable with my mother pressing me for details about previous situations in my life. I didn't like the way she was (and is) treating my father. She belittles him at every turn. (He had unbeknownst to her taken a substantial amount of money from the joint account and spent it on scratch-off lottery tickets. He had taken out loans and my mother knew nothing of it.) My mother was admitted to the hospital for several days and it was expected of ME to go take care of my father. Sorry. Not going to happen. I would call - I admit not every day - to see how things were. I didn't want to hear the complaints about my brother not calling, which I would hear every single time I called. I was/am sick of it. At one point, my mother said something about me not calling having to do with me waiting for both she and my father to die so I can get my inheritance. I laughed. I said you have told me more than once that there IS no money left so I wasn't expecting any money. My mother was so taken aback she was speechless. Is money worth the guilt trip? Nope. My friends would never let me go hungry or be homeless. I firmly believe that. I take care of my own bills. Yeah, there isn't much left over at the end of the month, but everything is paid except for some medical bills.

I realized they were not answering my phone calls two weeks ago and I got angry. I left biting remarks on their answering machine. A friend suggested I change my attitude and call and leave a positive message on their machine. I agreed! I called and whoops! my father answered the phone. He was speechless. I said this is your daughter. KABLAM! He started screaming bloody murder at me, something about waiting to hear from the car dealer because apparently something major is wrong with the car, how dare I not come up and take care of him when my mother was admitted to the hospital - I said I called you to see how you and mom were doing. And I hung up. The day progressed. An hour went by and my cell phone rang again. It was my father ranting and raving all the more. I was not going to listen to the crap and I opened my mouth to tell him to knock it off. Also, I said funny, when my brother doesn't call, you call him every day, but me? You just drop off the face of the earth. I said it's not my fault you don't keep your cell phone on all the time like normal people. It's also not my fault that you don't answer the home phone. I actually called the hospital both times to see if my mother was admitted ~ they weren't planning on contacting me or my brother. He continued yelling at me and I simply cut off the connection. I will be 50 years old next year. I am not going to continue with the abuse being heaped on me. I have done nothing wrong. It is my decision not to give up my precarious mental life and take care of my ailing parents. And I am all right with that decision. Thank God for good friends who I consider my real family. It is time to move on and let the crap go. I cannot continue to improve my mental life with them in my life. Yes, honor thy father and mother is a big issue. But I firmly believe that in order to get respect, you gotta give it. I haven't received any. I've been called worthless, a bum, among many other detrimental words. It's time for me to stand up, face forward, and continue on my journey without my parents telling me what to do. I have to live my life my way. Yes, I have made mistakes, but I always get up and say "You're not done yet, keep going." For that, I am truly grateful. And Lord? Thanks for listening all these years to my constant kvetching. I will now truly keep it down to a mimimum.