Sh** Storm

If you don't want to read profanity or are triggered by narcissitic behavior, stop reading this post and go to:
http://cheezburger.com/8202988544





Well, it happens in the life of every child, usually in their teen years but I am a very late bloomer.  I blew up at my parents for living in river denial.  To catch everyone up, my Dad had a pacemaker put in two days ago.  He came home from the hospital yesterday.  When I arrived at my parents today, my dad had fed the cats and started the bread machine and was ooooohhhh so proud of himself.  My mother kept his water across the room so he had to ask her for every sip he took and she alternates between telling everyone she is a basket-case to telling everyone how she is taking care of everything.  I erupted.  The wires keeping my Dad's heart beating are not healed into place so too much movement would cause them to come out...instant heart attack.  He'd be dead before, my mother would figure out to call 911.  I yelled at both of them.  My Dad for denying the seriousness of his recovery.  My mother for playing her manipulation games.  After which I found an old cart that just needed to be cleaned off to make sure my Dad could reach his water.  I threatened my Dad with chaining him to the chair then softened it to taping him to his chair if he didn't stay down and quiet.  I said things that I never intended to say.  When my mother kept trying to interrupt to draw the attention back to her, I told her to be quiet and not say another word.  When I finally stopped the shit storm, all my Dad said, "That was impressive."  He thought for a bit and said he hadn't realized how serious his condition was.  .....how's that for denial, he was awake for the operation and it wasn't a picnic.  Some how in his mind he was convinced that he would come home and go back to his normal routine.  My Mother is much more difficult since around most people she can sound so normal and together.  It is an illusion.  As a 6 year old, my Dad would ask me to take care of my mother.  He is still asking me to do the same thing 50 years later.  My mother can play the victim, the martyr, or any other role to the hilt.  I doubt I made any impression on my mother what so ever.  Doesn't matter, she doesn't need to change because I have.  After getting things setup at my parents.  I met a wonderful friend and had lunch.  She reassured me that I was not a horrible person for yelling at my parents.  I then went to get a pedicure and manicure.  It was awesome.  Took a nap and I feel much better.  I am still trying to sort out how much I can let go and how much I can do.  I looked over this past week and realized how much I had been absorbed by this.  One of those moments in time, I wished that I could believe my mother that she can take care of things.  Then I pull myself out of the river denial and decide what do I need to do, what can I delegate, and remind myself they are two fully grown adults.  At least, according to their birth certificates.