Remotely dealing with an aging parent

Its tough when you have to deal with a loved one being in the hospital. No matter what your relationship with that person may or may not be. Over the last week and a half, I have been dealing with my biological mother being in the hospital and drama of all that entails.

It started with a phone call a few weeks ago "your mom isn't doing to well" and went from there. For any of you who watch my YouTube videos, or have read any of my past updates, you will know that I have a strained but functional relationship with my biological mother.

My whole life I collected mother figures, and have never really considered my birth mother to really be my "mom". Nevertheless, I still don't really want to see her hurt, or being taken advantage of. So to get a random call out of the blue making blanketed statements about her and her health, really didn't surprise me. This considering that she has habitually used meth my entire life and probably for a long period of time prior to that. That in my 40yrs on this earth, I have only known her to maybe be sober from about 91-96. And even then I can not state my life on it. This is the woman that when I was 16yrs old, decided to chose drugs over me. To chose the drug dealer, whom I knew and was friendly acquaintances with. Not that I used drugs, but those who I chummed around with as a teen did. The man who I would watch snort up an entire 8-Ball of speed to wake up, and to go to sleep with. A man who when he wasn't smoking or snorting meth, was drinking 40's and partying with my friends uncle. A man that she married, on the heels of telling me that I was unwanted, unloved, and a mistake, should I not back her on her feelings and wanting's. A woman, who would go several long years without so much as a phone call. A woman who missed birthdays, holidays, and my high school graduation. 

So to say that there is love loss there is a bit of a dead fish in water. Its not that I dont love her, I just dont love this woman who I've come to know over the last 30 something years of my life. 
She was never the kind loving mother that television shows would make a mother out to be. Never the one to kiss a boo boo, or to readily tell you that she was proud of or that she loved you. Those were after thoughts. Like a period at the end of a sentence. like a child being reminded of "what do we say".
So it bewilders me that I would put in the amount of effort that I have making sure that all of her medical is taken care of. That she has a whole new doctor, and a doctors appointment set up for when she gets out of the hospital. But perhaps its my "fixing" nature. Perhaps its my way of trying to punish myself yet again in hopes that she will stay on the pathway that has been foraged for her. But logical mind knows better, but the heart still screams for this non-existent hope. Logic tells me daily, do not overly involve yourself, its going to blow up in your face. She's only going to do what she needs right this moment to keep her needs met.

The ultimate fear is that somehow, some way, she is going to be brought closer to my little Edan. That her poison is going to infect everything that I have struggled to create and grow. That my past, where I was Her son, awakens, and somehow her transgressions now become the crown that I bare. That those who dont know Her son, will pass judgement upon me, regardless of the years of knowing the person that I present myself to be. That her darkness will cloud an already cloudy day, and seep into every crevasse of a life that I built. I left "California" behind me. I tried to become someone new. Only to have "California" constantly on the horizon, like the sword of Damocles hanging over my head.
But one shouldn't feel this way about a mother. Yet this is what I fear. Having her back in close proximity to my fragile ecosphere. Thinking about what my exit plan would be, should she somehow darken my doorstep. Where is it that I would run this time? Where is it that would have me? That I could restart yet again?

So while other aspects of my life are good. There are those that I am trying to keep separated. Only to have real family drama unfolding in another part of my life. Trying to keep the ones that truly matter to me from falling apart, and to try and find the right words to speak, as to not cause the fault lines to further fracture. To not burden anyone else with my own problems, and my own short comings. Trying to be the rock, when my foundation at any given moment is build on a bed of quicksand. So it makes me thankful for those moments where I am not battling my own mental health. For should all of this be happening while im typically at my lowest, this would not be good. 

So I put on a strong brave face. I continue to be the "carefree" person that everyone expects, when just behind the mask, im screaming in silence and crying to the point of dehydration. But as long as the outer shell appears fine, then the dance can go on.