Ramble Warning. Perhaps a trigger warning for those among us who are sorting through the painful, long-term whiplash of dysfuctional parenting in your childhood. I am sorting through the treachorous confusion of how far a mentally ill/toxic mother should be involved in the problems of middle aged children, spouses, grandchildren and significant others. I almost envy my peers whose adult children chose estrangement for their personal coping. My middle aged cherubs look to me for solutions far beyond what I can handle. I genuinely want all of them in my life and feel their pain intensely, but the need for reality checks is frequently intense. No Dear, not the sort of checks which will keep your finances afloat for another week or month. The reality checks are of how sustainable our current methods are. Your old mother is drowning along with you. Her swimming strength is not Nature-designed to grow here in her "Golden Years." I doubt geriatric science will ever gain the strength to over-come the natural order of off-spring out-living the parents.

In my own old-mother psychosis, the grandchildren (2 and 5years old) are the toughest thorn in this thorny chew. Their welfare is threatened far enough that Hubs and Child Protective Services felt the need to step in after I distanced myself from the joys of being the Monster-in-Law/Toxic Mother whenever I didn't step up to do things as the reigning parents expected of me. In my psychosis, I believe they mostly repeated the efforts which failed when I tried them on my own, with emotional support from my peer support network. This happened during my 2017 funeral pilgrimage. I prayed and prayed that their combined efforts would be more effective than my isolated Granny efforts, but. . . My grandson started kindergarten this week and. . . Old Gammy is terriffied for her grandchildren. If a grandmother's tears could cure, we'd all be fit and happy this week. As it is. . .

Support needed. . . I feel so helpless. . .