Well, it has been an eventful couple of weeks. I’m sure you’ve all been on the edges of your seats wondering what is up with the Apostate Turtle. Well, I’m still working full-time at my dream job and slowly completing a practicum at the local community college. As far as I can tell, my boss and co-workers and professors are all mostly happy with me. In fact, I’ve actually gotten some extremely positive feedback, which makes me feel like it’s all worth it. So, you know, work and school keep me busy.
So then on Thursday, June 15 (less than two weeks ago for those keeping track), I started peeing blood. Like, basically straight blood. I called the on-call for my PCP because it was after hours and she was sure it was just my period. I was sure that it wasn’t and I know how periods work, but I let it go. The next morning, I scheduled an appointment with my PCP. His next available was June 23, or one week from the day I called. I was nervous, but I forbade myself from going to urgent care. He would have said to go if it were that urgent. I wasn’t going to be a pansy. Women on my mother’s side of the family go like 20 years between doctor’s appointments. I don’t know why that’s the one thing about my mother that my psyche desperately wants to emulate, but I was sure going to try.
So the weekend came and I slept a lot and played The Sims 4. By the end of the weekend, my pee was like dark tea, which was a huge improvement from the week before. I decided that it had just been psychosomatic.
Monday rolled around (June 19) and I basically had forgotten about the whole thing. However, it was very hard not to puke at work. I figured I had another stomach bug. Then toward the end of the day, I remembered that my pee was still not normal. So I went to urgent care. They gave me antibiotics for a UTI.
I got home on Tuesday night after a long day at work and fired up my email, and found this:
I have good news for you. [Subsidized apartment] may be ready for you to move in on 6/23/2023 . I will be receiving the lease on Thursday for you to sign and after that you will be all set to move in. Is that fine with you?
Housing Guy
I was super excited, but asked if I could move Saturday instead because I had that PCP appointment on Friday. The housing guy acquiesced, but said it really couldn’t be any later than that. I asked again what the rent was going to be and what would be required to move in, but he said we wouldn’t know until Thursday. I wanted to be happy, but I was COMPLETELY stressed out because I was afraid everything would fall through when they found out I didn’t have any money.
Wednesday, I was way beyond exhausted and generally not myself, and my co-workers figured out that I was sick and basically staged an intervention. They said I had to go to the doctor. My boss tried to get me out early, but the best she could do was getting me out at 4:55 rather than “5:30” (aka 5:50). So I went to urgent care and when I got there, my body and mind just collapsed. I was exhausted and the doctor was really worried. She pressed on my stomach and it hurt BAD, and she called an ambulance. At that point, I started worrying that maybe I was going to die. I had no idea what was causing the increasingly long list of symptoms that seemed random and unrelated to each other. I texted my boss and my co-workers, and they were all amazing. It was like, for the first time in my life, I was a normal member of society and had a social safety net. I was not used to this, and I was shocked by how supportive everyone was. I was scared because I didn’t know what was happening to my body and it felt unfair if I had to die after working so hard to build a fulfilling life, but it was definitely a nice silver lining to realize that I had friends. In the end, the CT scan showed a kidney stone and they told me to drink lots of water and sent me home in the wee hours of Thursday morning.
On Thursday, I was asleep most of the day. My boss let me have the day off for almost dying. The housing guy let me know that evening that I had to provide my own everything for the move. When I moved into the group home, they had provided a cargo van and helped me move boxes. The previous regional director had said that I could expect the same when I moved out. Unfortunately, the new management had a different philosophy. So I spent Thursday night filling out a very thick stack of paperwork including the lease, and also trying to find last-minute movers. I found a company that would do the move on Saturday, but they needed to come to my house in person on Friday morning to observe my stuff and decide how much the move would coat.
Thank goodness my boss was understanding. On Friday morning, the estimator guy came out and looked around and said it should be easy, and quoted a very low price. I rushed off to work for a couple of hours before leaving to go to the PCP appointment. Note that I don’t own a vehicle, so I had to take public transportation, which is definitely not great in this country. The housing people, who were the exact individuals who had given me minimal notice that I had to move despite my having been ready for months, kept calling me all stressed out. They said that they had to report what my exact plan was, and they didn’t understand all the fine details of my plan. I tried to explain that when one is operating on absolutely no time and a skeletal amount of money, plans are often tentative. So there I was, boarding the train, trying to get out my ticket (which was on my phone) and also assuring the housing guy that everything was under control when I was about to have a total anxiety attack. Eventually, another person on the team (bless her!) must’ve had the bright idea, “Say guys, why don’t we, like, you know… HELP her??” She emailed a ton of resources and called to assure me that if I had to stay another couple of days, we would work it out. I didn’t really believe her, but it was nice to have a back-up plan.
I got to the PCP’s office and he wanted to talk about how I had a ridiculous amount of blood in my urine sample and had been diagnosed with a kidney stone. I didn’t care about that, and just kept saying that I didn’t understand why I was exhausted and constantly felt like I was literally going to black out.
“You need sleep,” he said.
I kept telling him symptoms and he kept saying that I just needed to sleep. I left totally annoyed and discouraged. Fortunately, I did manage to secure enough money to cover the move itself from my cousin.
So Saturday morning, the movers came. Apparently, despite the fact that they had come in person and estimated the cost of the move, the individuals tasked with the move itself thought it was way harder than they had expected. They were really rough with my belongings and I still think some things are missing. At the end of the day, they charged $300 more than had been quoted. I paid off the remainder with a credit card. I also couldn’t help but notice that most of the windows were painted shut and I couldn’t afford an air conditioner for the windows that did open. I wanted to love the place, but it was hard to sit still and enjoy the moment because it was unbearably hot. However, I decided to consider the PCP’s advice and maybe take a nap. I woke up in the middle of the night when it wasn’t so hot and unpacked a little bit, then went back to sleep. I was concerned that I was becoming nocturnal. I filled up the bathtub with cold tap water and got in, texting my cousin from the bath that I needed money for an oscillating fan and a shower curtain. He helped me out. I still had no idea how I was going to pay first month or deposit, but the nice clinician with resources had assured me that there were emergency assistance programs in our state.
So Sunday afternoon, I was starting to calm down, when I noticed some pretty serious flank pain. The ER had given me oxy-whatever in case of a total emergency. My plan had been to wait a few days and flush it down the toilet because that stuff is terrifying, but I actually took one because the pain was that bad. Then, the pain got to like 10/10 Absolute Nightmare levels. I went back to the ER and said I didn’t understand how I could be in that much pain an hour after taking oxy-whatever. They gave me toradol and sympathy. The sympathy didn’t help too much, because I assumed I would still have to pass the stone at home. They say kidney stones hurt like having a baby, but most women do not give birth without a midwife or someone experienced in the process.
So Urology came by and said that I actually had two options: pass the stone at home (which they noted that I had already tried) or sign up for a stent. I readily accepted the latter. As I explained to them, at that point, they could have told me to roll over and they were going to cut open my back with a knife right there right then and I would have been completely on board.
However, that is apparently not how modern medicine works. To the contrary, they needed access to an operating room. And unfortunately, another emergency had unfolded and the operating room was in use. They said that it probably wasn’t going to be free until morning, and then I would have to wait for all the scheduled procedures before they could get me in. By then, the pain wasn’t nearly as severe as it had been, but I was anxious about the whole thing and had nothing to occupy my mind. I’m a “hard stick” and the only place they could get the IV in was the part of my elbow where, if I bent it at ALL, the IV would immediately stop and the alarm would go off. This made using my phone almost impossible, since I would have had to use it one-handed with my non-dominant hand. And, for good or for ill, I wasn’t in the psych section of the ER, which meant that there were no boss fights between inebriated gang members and whoever they can get to work hospital security. So I mostly ended up sleeping a lot.
Finally, they got me in for the procedure. At that point, I was informed that my plan of going home via Über was not going to work. So I had to call my poor longsuffering friend who usually helps me out in these binds. When I woke up, I asked if the surgeon had found the stone, but all they could tell me was “everything went well.” So I got home last night (Monday night) and tried to pull things together. I just moved, so I have to unpack everything and get it organized before living out of boxes becomes routine and I end up never unpacking. I just kept adding things to my to-do list and trying to prioritize. I had to call the new pharmacy because I can’t use Group Home Express pharmacy anymore. I had to cancel my appointment to continue working on my tattoo because I was severely in the red. I was exhausted and in sheer financial anguish, and had just gotten out of general anesthesia.
That’s when everything went to hell.
Now, you might have been thinking that after this whole saga, there’s no way that something totally unexpected could come out of left field and totally throw me off. That’s what I thought, anyway. But that’s when I got the following text message from my baby sister:
Wow! Isn’t that nice of My Mother to detect a moment of peak vulnerability and swoop in as though she’d been there for me the whole time? All I could think at the time was, “Well played, Mom.” She certainly had thought of everything. If I said yes, then obviously there would be massive strings attached that I wouldn’t see the end of for years to come. But if I said no, then I would probably not be able to continue to ask for help from extended family members who haven’t figured out yet that she’s a sociopath. By communicating through my baby sister, she was able to advance her narrative that she can’t contact me or I’ll freak out at her, so of course she had absolutely no choice but to never check in on me when I attempted suicide or was in the hospital for a year or whatever. And my poor baby sister has Stockholm syndrome and would be totally confused if I turned down an offer of help from our dear mother who definitely has never made any seriously bad choices or demonstrated symptoms of an untreated personality disorder, ever.
I decided that I would deal with it in the morning, and went to bed. I was proud of myself for this. It took a lot of “skills,” as they say. This morning, I called my therapist’s office. I was supposed to have therapy yesterday but missed it because I was in the emergency room. So now I’m going to see her tomorrow. I also went to my support group for people who were born or raised in cults, and wrote this:
Okay, S.O.S.
I had not heard from my mother literally in years. For example, she refused to be my emergency contact in 2020 at the height of the pandemic. At first I really wanted to restore some kind of relationship, but just recently I had decided that maybe it was for the best that she wanted nothing to do with me. And, I mean, at least she was consistent.
So, things have been stressful lately. I moved a few days ago (Saturday), and although it was definitely a good thing, I only had three days’ notice that it was happening and I also was dealing with kidney stones. So yesterday, I had ongoing major financial stress due to the abrupt move, and I had just gotten home from emergency surgery that had required general anesthesia. Overall, I was more vulnerable than usual.
So who appears, with absolutely NO explanation for where the fuck she was or why she’s back? Oh yes, my mother. And she didn’t just write to me directly. Of course not. She claims she can’t contact me or I will freak out. Any attempts on her part to contact me EVER would disprove that narrative and she can’t have that.
So I get a message from my little sister saying that Mom said that she (our mother) wants to send me a generous financial contribution.
And it’s like, the issue isn’t so much how I should handle it. The issue is that it’s incredibly hard for me to truly, genuinely understand that she is a sociopath. When she randomly decides to do something “nice,” it’s like I have to grieve all over again for the relationship I’ll never have with her. And I start to wonder if I’ve been being unfair to her. So in my brain I’m rehashing all the things she’s done that were like next-level awful, but that’s really hard to have to go through again. It was easier when she had shut me out completely, and I could think back on things about her that I liked. She was evil, but she was also funny and very into DIY. When she’s an immediate threat to my psyche, I really can’t do that.
Furthermore, the only reason I’ve been surviving is thanks to help from my uncle, her brother. If I turn down money from Mom, it means I’m taking money from him that I could have gotten elsewhere. So in reality, her offer of assistance jeopardizes a source of income for me and makes me LESS financially stable rather than MORE. And even if I did accept money from her, despite the fact that there are always strings attached, she’s extremely unreliable with these things. She offers to help, but I have to just guess what dollar amount she was planning to send. If I ask for more, she will not negotiate; she’ll just send nothing.
Going through my little sister was also really low. My sister loves our mom and is generally very meek and naïve. I’m sure she leapt at the chance to be a peacemaker, when in fact Mom is just using her. I don’t want my baby sister thrown into the crossfire. It’s hard enough to have to interact with my mother in ways that feel cold. Mom knows how protective I am of my sister.
But how am I supposed to express to others that my mother is evil for wanting a relationship with me and offering to send money??
Me in my support group
Also, I’ve been meaning to write a blog entry on shunning, and thank god that I decided to do that, because in my “research” (on YouTube), I had come across this:
So here’s what I finally did: I started a group chat between my mother, my sister, and my sister’s husband. I decided not to include my dad, because although he is arguably less evil than my mother, he’s also not manipulative. He literally does not care about anyone but himself, my mom, and whatever cat he’s currently keeping alive. He would have no incentive to send money because he has no incentive to act like he cares. I did include my sister because she really believes that Mom is the nicest person on God’s green earth and Mom would never want to disappoint her after going through her to reach me in the first place. Also, Mom sometimes acts nicer around my brother-in-law, and even if she’s given up on that facade, my sister is way more likely to read and respond to messages that include her husband. I went back into my budgeting app and calculated exactly how much I would need to cover my most basic expenses for the next couple of months. And I sent this message to my mom (and sister, and BIL):
Hi Mom! I haven’t heard from you in a long time, but [my sister] said that you wanted to help me with move-in costs for my new apartment. That would actually be awesome! The [Mom’s brother] family initially helped with movers, but that ended up costing way more than they had quoted me. So the main thing is the rent and deposit, but I also still owe money because of the movers. And, honestly, it has been an extremely stressful time because I’ve missed work due to the move but for example I also had emergency surgery yesterday. My boss has been amazing but she can’t pay me for days I’ve missed and I don’t qualify for FMLA because I haven’t worked there long enough. So between missed work, movers, rent/deposit, miscellaneous costs associated with moving (like a microwave and increased transportation costs), and my health (prescriptions, etc), it’s been incredibly difficult financially.
I was worried that I was going to have to ask the [Mom’s brother] family again because, basically, I’m short $2,000. That’s just to cover the basics, not living a life of luxury or anything. Usually I can pay for what I need with my money from work, but I’ve had a ton of really sudden expenses this month. So it’s amazing that you thought of me right now! You can’t imagine the stress this would take off of me!
You have all my contact info except obviously my address has changed. The most reliable way I get mail is at my post office box, which is:
[My PO Box]
I also use PayPal and Venmo if that’s easier.Thanks again and I hope all is well with you!!! <3
~[My name]
Me
Mom is sending me a check.
On the one hand, I’m a bit proud of my work. For example, I acknowledged that she’s been strikingly absent for a while, and I managed to sneak in that she definitely already had all my contact info and obviously could have used it at any point in the last 16 years since I went off to college. And, assuming she sends the full amount, this genuinely will take a ton of stress off of me.
What makes me sad is that I’ve gotten to where I can communicate effectively with a woman who I genuinely believe to be a sociopath. I’m not someone who uses people or manipulates. I connect with others on an emotional level and empathize even when it’s hard. But none of that applies with my mother. She is a special exception. She figured out that things had actually started improving for me, and went in for the kill. I know her, and I know how to interact with her to get my needs met. But I do feel gross about myself afterwards.
Anyway, I’m doing my best to get through an incredibly long list of things to do. My social worker in the hospital constantly comes to my mind, and I scratch off anything that I don’t actually /have/ to do, and forgive myself when I can’t do everything. So it’s not as much about the list itself as about accomplishing my actual goals. I’m proud of myself for moving on super short notice while dealing with health issues. I’m thankful to my boss for letting me be out Mon-Wed of this week, after I was already out on Thursday of last week. It’s not perfect, but it’s moving in the right direction.
