Let's All Play Make Believe

We’re back. Spent the week in far away places with so many imaginary friends, we could fill a coliseum. What do you do when the person you’re caring for is bothered by the infringement of his privacy because of his grown children crawling around his house as babies tinkering with the phone cords and television cables? If you’re me, you ask how long have they been doing this? Is everything working better now, and how do I go about hiring them for my own home repairs? Honestly, I could use all the help available, and hey, imaginary children can’t cost nearly as much as licensed professionals.

Then, we went to a ballgame with the Cosby clan. Apparently the Angels won the game. I wonder how many letters Bill Cosby gets thanking him for his kindness, and where he finds the time to hang out with all the people that remember him as Mr. Huxtable. I really could use some time management tips.

The great part in all of this. Somehow I intuitively did what the professionals get paid the big bucks to teach people. I guess all my years of constant daydreaming as a child have finally been found useful. Won’t my mom feel bad about all the times she told me I just needed to apply myself and STOP the daydreaming. I can tell her I was in training for the future.

I’m thinking today maybe to bring him and all of his imaginary friends over. I have a difficult time with clutter building up, and am trying to get the house in order for him to move back home with us. I can either single handedly tackle two bedrooms belonging to young boys that don’t understand that in the civilized world people expect to see a floor, not just blindly walk through a foot of whatever could happen to be in the path, or I can use the help of at least five imaginary children as well as a few adults. That should help me keep the youngsters focused on the task at hand.

I can’t seem to find a way to welcome him to our reality, so I might as well make the best of his. So far the hallucinations seem to frustrate him more than frighten him, so I might as well just kick back and enjoy his game of make believe for awhile. Luckily my inner child is hyperactive, and could use a bit of play time.

Disorder or Dysfunction?

When is something a disorder? What’s makes it so? In my mind, a disorder, especially those that occur later in life are totally random. Hurt feelings hit everyone in that person’s life. Manipulation is selective pain innvoked on others. How do you find treatment for both, when there is so much gray area to cover. How do you truly discover what can be treated through medicine versus psychologically?

Recent episodes have included mind boggling symptoms, that are ever changing. Confusion with clarity to call the one with emotional baggage er, ties. Feel my pain, don’t you feel bad, fix me, BUT…only on MY TERMS. To me that’s not a disorder but rather a dysfunction.

Above that, add a medical diagnosis that maybe it’s Lewy Body so it’s unpredictable. Even medical professionals are now saying that if it truly is Lewy Body it’s the slowest progressing case they’ve ever witnessed.

With over fifteen years dealing with recovery, and many more dealing with manipulation, my input comes across as a cold hearted, uncaring, biased outsider, who just hasn’t a clue as to the significant changes this person has gone through over the last few years.

Well, true, I’m an outsider…true, I’m warped in my opinion, but the fact is, the person has been the same cold hearted, self centered individual I’ve encountered for the last five years.

How do you possibly tell someone you love that their parent is a lying, self centered, self serving piece of something cows would say ewww about? There is no politically correct way of spinning that one. Hell, Karl Rove couldn’t spin that one and make it look good.

This man made my life a living hell for three of those five years, bitter, hell yeah. Forgiving, I can do that, forget, no way. My belief is this man has had people fishing for him for so many years that he never had to learn to fish for himself. He’s burned bridges to safety without a care, and now he’s feeling the consequences for all of those bad choices he’s made in his life, and searching for someone to fish some more. His antics have increased in drama due to the fact that he’s cried wolf so many times, most of the sheep are gone, and only one lifeline remains.

As he’s looking for pity from the one remaining ally, he’s giving credit to all the wrong people. In the process he’s pushing away the one remaining teammate he has, foresaking them while thanking those who have not been there, have not cared, think he’s full of it.

If it truly is a disorder, I would go to the ends of the earth to help, but I’m having a tough time diserning what is real and what is fabricated. We’re back again hearing the doctor’s mention Lewy Body, and back to feeling the guilt and pain, hoping that we do all that we can to help a man not seeming worthy of our love and assistance.