She's Just Mean
This past weekend, my Alzheimer's riddled mother said the most hurtful thing she could've possibly said to me. I've grown accustomed to being berated about things she's imagining about my current behavior. The number of times she's screamed at me for "trying to control her whole life," or "treating her like an old idiot" is hard to tally. But while I haven't always done a great job of not responding, I've always understood it's the disease talking.
This was different. This was about something in the past. Something that predated the Alzheimer's. Not something imagined or confabulated. It feels much more like this is what she always thought of me, and her lack of filter is now letting it seep out.
I honestly don't know if I can see her anymore. The guilt of that is killing me.