Mom called just after lunch yesterday. She was in a tizzy and needed me to come right way. "This place is killing me. I'm confused. My brain is slowly dying," was her explanation. I mulled the situation over for a few minutes, scarfed down the rest of lunch, and drove over.

I tried to figure out what was going on and pretty much decided she's working herself into hysteria because she doesn't want to be in assisted living. I called her counselling office and they said to have her evaluated at the ER. We packed up some of her clothes and headed to the hospital (note-Mom's assisted living is down the road from my job, which is 30-40 minutes from hometown and the hospital, doctor's offices, pharmacy, etc. A pain in the ass.) On the way out, we let one of the staff know. When asked what was wrong, Mom just said she was sick. I elaborated that she's depressed and isn't happy in assisted living. Apparently she put up a front and acted fine all morning. I told her how frustrated I was with her for pulling that manipulative crap. Maybe if she would talk to the staff or someone there, they could help her.

They got her into a bed within 30 minutes - amazingly fast. Then she started freaking out about not wanting to be there and could she just come home with me (light bulb on!- that's what she really wanted.) Thankfully, she had already signed the voluntary admission paperwork. We had some interesting company in the psych section. A young woman with visual and auditory hallucinations (she was maybe 20 years old - God, that must be horrible) and another woman my age who was in for drug detox and had diabetes and congestive heart failure. I stayed with Mom for a few hours, then left when Hubby got off work. An afternoon of work lost. I'm still catching up from Peanut's strep episode and am putting together the damn presentation which is 3 weeks away and stressing me out.

I spoke with her psychiatrist today. He has no answers as far as what to do with her. He only deals with meds as most of the p-docs here do (WTF ever happened to the psychiatrists who take the wholistic therapy and drug approach?) His opinion - she's having a "tantrum" because she doesn't want to be in assisted living and therefore won't stay there. I'd say he hit the nail right on the head.

So, what do I do? Do I make her hold up her end of the 1-month trial period bargain, knowing she'll end up back in the hospital within a week? Do I bring her home for a few days/weeks until she's stable and risk my own mental health and marriage? (Yeah, living with her is that bad.) Do I take her to check out the ALF in hometown, the one she keeps talking about but knows nothing about? Do I look into the mental health group homes, the ones she used to work at and would be miserable in?

I feel like a shitty child. I have no more patience for Mom, her drama, her wallowing in self-pity, her inability/refusal to make an effort at staying in assisted living.

I'm fed up with being yanked around. Oh, she loooooved the ALF when we visited it the first time. Now it's dirty and filled with of old people on the brink of death. I guess she somehow managed not to notice the old people on our visit. The place is clean and much, much nicer than the shithole she went to a few years ago. She wants her trailer back. She wants to stay at my house. She wants to be in the hospital. Wait, no, she doesn't want to be in the hospital.

Fuck.