#trauma dump

It’s okay if you don’t get the meaning of it,

It's almost 5am, and I saw a video talking about it and I'm a bit emotional. I'm sorry, I need to vent. I need to tell my story. It's a bit long and badly written, I'm sorry.

I have lost my grandmother to FTD in March this year, and she had just celebrated her 93th birthday. Doctors said it is impressive that it came this late (it usually occurs at 50-60 years old), but I'm not happy with those doctors.

My grandmother started showing signs in October 2025 by singing while talking, then showing aggressive episodes towards nurses in the nursing home. I caught quickly that something was wrong and shared my worries with my mother who, of course, denied. It was impossible for my mother that she could have dementia, maybe Alzheimer's.

My mother later in 2025, by seeing that it slowly became worse (more and more aggressive, she would talk NON-STOP, she would not eat/drink for a few days,...), finally share her own concerns about the matter to the generalist. That same generalist said it was nothing to worry about and going to the hospital doing tests would be useless. She made my mother paranoid about going to the hospital, telling her that my grandma would surely get an infection/bacteria and never coming back from there. So no hospital visit. I believe it was the biggest mistake of that doctor's career.

End of January 2026, I finished my exam and was visiting her. It was the last time she would recognize me. She kept talking about incoherent stuff both in french (native language) and wallon (typical dialect in Belgium), about her past, her present, about dead people she thought were still alive... And singing.

February, we celebrated her 93th birthday on the 13th. Some extended family members came from the other side of the country to celebrate with us. It was already too late. My grandma was unresponsive to our celebrations, and was weirdly silent for once. She kept looking at the turned off television and said some of her weird stuff. That day, she didn't recognize me. When we left, I had my own confirmation that she showed clear signs of dementia. On the same night, we received a call at 9 or 10pm from the nursing home that she had a massive aggressive meltdown and assaulted 2 nurses. My mother and I rushed there and I witnessed for the first time one of her first crisis. It got worse within the month. At some point, for 2 weeks, my mom and I visited her every day after work/school, even if I had a 12 hour long day, I would go.

But she never got better. It became worst.I cried. A lot. It was terrifying to see my lovely grandmother suddenly screaming, kicking, scratching people. At this moment I felt like a coward, a very shitty person, but I decided that I would visit her less.

In 2 weeks, her state declined harshly and had to get hospitalised. A very traumatic memory. I visited her once in the hospital and I couldn't do it anymore. It was too difficult, too painful to witness.

She was in a camisole. Her face was so dirty because nurses tried in vain to feed her. She stopped eating/drinking/sleeping completely, kept talking and talking and talking, but the most horrible part was that she screamed my name for hours but didn't recognize me. I was there. At the feet of her bed. But I was reduced to a name without a face.

When she had to go back to the nursing home, she wasn't the same physically anymore. She was so thin, we could see her bones, and her wonderful face aged drastically.

She lived 2 painful weeks before passing away on the 26th March at 12:10am in her room, alone. She had no strength anymore. I was at university presenting geology to potential new students and was having quite a good day. I was with my friends talking about things I love. I'll always remember the face of my father when I came back home.

It is a traumatic event for my mother, and I believe she will never recover from that.

At the funeral home, we were allowed to say our goodbyes before closing the coffin. Her body was so, so cold. But I was under the impression that she was napping and would wake up and greet us with her beautiful smile and her sparkling eyes. I will never see that again.

We put plenty of pictures of our family in the coffin, I put a drawing I did as a little girl which she kept close to her bed, I put a scarf that I had crocheted for her earlier and I gave her one of my necklaces.

The hardest part ? Leaving the cemetery while they buried her coffin (we couldn't stay because they had to manipulate the coffin of her late husband that was already there which is 42 years old). It was so hard to turn my back on her.

Je t'aime mamie, je t'aime de tout mon cœur et je sais que tu ne voudrais pas me voir pleurer mais ta disparition a été une des épreuves les plus dures de ma vie.

Ma mamie chérie je t'aime. J'espère que tu es avec bonne-maman, ton frère, tes parents, marraine Monique, tante Jeanne, pépé Richard, ton amant, Milou et la grand-mère de Zoé et que vous veillez sur nous. J'espère que tu es heureuse et que tu peux a nouveau danser et chanter jusque pas d'heure de la nuit. Que tu puisses voyager à nouveau.

"... that happens when people love each other.. and they dont get super mad or yell at eachother... wow"

or

"fuck you man. it's mean, and idc if you 'care'"

But first let me explain why I’m making these. This is simply for helping me cope with this past trauma that tries to rot me so yeah! If you can please don’t be to harsh ik some of these probably aren’t that bad but they do still bother me.

Ok now that’s over let’s get into it.

Once, I told my aunt (on my dad's side) she was being a bitch because my mom came in town for my cousin's wedding (not my aunt's kid, her brother's kid) and she had everyone over to her house after but told my mom she wasn't allowed to come in front of everyone at the bar the reception was in. It was also my younger cousins' birthday (also not her kids, her sister's kids) and my mom had brought them both presents all the way from Chicago to Texas. She wouldn't even allow me to drive over with my mom and meet the twins outside so mom could tell them she loved them and give them the presents.

My dad was pissed because my aunt ended up ruining the whole night by going on and on about how dare I say that to her. First he tried to blame me for ruining the night, eventually he understood after I pointed out to him that actually no, she had. Because all I did was call her out for her hateful behavior toward my mom. She ruined everyone's night by turning the whole night into The Poor Pitty Wanda Show.

Then 8 months later. (I had not spoken to my aunt since then, got over it that night even, did not care at all, didn't think about it. Moved on) My aunt decided Thanksgiving was at hers this year, everyone was ready to go over. Sides and drinks and desert had already been dropped at her house the night before. I woke up at 8am to a text from her saying I wasn't welcome at her home for family thanksgiving if I didn't apologize to her for my calling her a bitch one time over text 8 months ago for being a bitch to my mom and excluding her from a family event by throwing it at her house and telling her she wasn't welcome.

She doubled down.

And when I showed my dad, I wasn't even mad. He tried to tell me "fuck that you're coming with us" and I told him it's actually fine, I didn't really want to be around her anyway, she's not nice and being at her house is boring because it was like being stuck on the sidelines of a tennis match (between two unhinged narcissistic skinny bigoted white ladies) where my aunt and my stepmom competed for aplomb and attention (they expected silent spectators, heads on a swivel, because if anyone else tried to have a conversation, they would just get louder until everyone gave up, shut up and paid attention to them again). I tried to tell him to just go with my brother, stepmom and step brothers. My little brother said that if I was staying home, he wasn't going either.

My dad called my aunt, told her she was being a bitch, and that if she didn't get off her high horse, it's thanksgiving, you don't get to exclude anyone from the family gathering, then we weren't going and she could keep all the food we bought, he'd go to Walmart before they closed and buy a ham and some potatoes and we'd make our own dinner at home.

She didn't relent.

He didn't either.

So we went to Walmart and bought a ham and some potatoes and stuffing mix and green bean casserole ingredients and I cooked thanksgiving dinner at home.

I had a fucking GREAT day. First time I ever felt like my dad stuck up for me and put me and my feelings first.

He did kind of ruin it later, after all day of fielding my aunt's pissed off texts and calls, because she was embarrassed after she had to explain to the rest of our family where we were and everyone told her she was wrong and my grandma told her she should be ashamed of herself, he ended up trying to tell me "you ruined thanksgiving." I laughed and said, "try again." And he said, "you both did" and I said, "No I didn't, I had a great thanksgiving. We had a great meal, you watched your football, and I actually felt like you cared about me and respected my feelings and would have my back and stand up for me today. I think Wanda ruined her own thanksgiving. And she's trying to ruin yours too, why are you letting her?"