When "I'm Fine" Is Far From Fine

From midnight emergencies to stubborn denials: Your complete translation guide for keeping parents safe

(without destroying relationships)

What You’ll Find In This Week’s Newsletter:

• 🕒 The Club Nobody Wants To Be In At 3AM 😧

• ^⚠️ How To Talk About Safety Without WWIII Breaking Out 🪖

• 🖖🏻The Stubborn Parent Translator: What They Are Really Saying 👵🏻

• 🏆How To Handle The I’m Fine Conversation Without Losing Mind 🤯 

Hey Fellow Caregiving Warriors,

First off... if you're getting this newsletter at 3AM, go back to sleep. 😴

(Unless you're part of "that club" I talk about below. In which case... I see you. And I've been there.)

For everyone else reading this during normal human hours... Welcome back to another edition of Lifting Atlanta.

This week, we're diving into something that's been keeping a lot of you up at night. Literally.

I decided to tackle this topic since it seems to be huge fear a lot of us are avoiding. Based on questions I’ve been asked and messages I’ve been getting lately, I'm not the only one struggling with stubborn parents who insist "everything's fine"... right up until it isn't.

So I put together a little survival guide for you...

🕒 The Club Nobody Wants To Be In At 3AM 😧

THE 3AM JOURNAL ENTRY - Jennifer's Raw, Unfiltered Moment of Truth:

[Written in her car, parked in her driveway after a late-night emergency call from her parents]

3:17 AM

I can't go inside yet. Can't face Tom's questioning look, his silent judgment. Can't crawl into bed knowing my phone could ring again any minute. So I'm sitting here in my dark driveway, writing this because I'll explode if I don't get it out somewhere.

Mom called at 11:45. Dad was "stuck" at the top of the stairs again. Third time this week. His knee locked up, he said. But we all know it's more than that. I could hear the fear in his voice when I got there. The great Richard Mitchell, former CEO, decorated veteran, the man who never needed anyone's help... gripping that banister like his life depended on it. Because it did.

My hands are still shaking.

I keep seeing him there, pale and trembling, trying to make jokes about his "dramatic midnight performance." But his eyes... God, his eyes. He looked so lost. So afraid. So angry at his own body's betrayal.

The worst part? While I was helping him shuffle to his bedroom, pretending not to notice how heavily he was leaning on me, all I could think was: "This is it. This is how it happens. One night, I won't get here in time. One night, instead of finding him at the top of the stairs, I'll find him at the bottom."

I'm so tired. Not just physically tired. Soul tired. Tired of being the bad guy because I'm the only one willing to say what everyone knows: They can't handle those stairs anymore. Tired of my brother's useless "helpful" suggestions from 500 miles away. Tired of Mom's enabling. Tired of researching solutions they refuse to consider.

I looked in the mirror at their house tonight, really looked, while washing my hands after helping Dad. When did I get so old? When did these worry lines become permanent? When did I start looking exactly like Mom did when Grandma was...

Oh God. I'm becoming my mother. Complete with the same exhausted eyes, the same frustrated sighs, the same helpless watching as stubborn parents risk their lives to preserve their pride.

My own kids barely see me anymore. Emma's piano recital was tonight. Another one I missed. She didn't even seem surprised when I called to say I couldn't make it. Just that quiet "It's okay, Mom. Grandpa needs you more." When did my 12-year-old start parenting me?

I got an estimate for that stairlift today. Didn't tell anyone.. We could handle it. Hell, my brother and sisters and I could split it six ways and barely feel it. But Dad would rather risk dying than admit he needs one. "Not in my house," he says. "I won't live like an invalid."

News flash, Dad: You're already living like an invalid. You're just doing it in the most dangerous way possible.

The Hendersons next door installed one last year for Bill's mother. Dad called it "giving up." Three months later, she was still living independently while he's basically trapped between floors, but sure... she's the one who gave up.

I can't keep doing this. These midnight rescue missions. This constant state of dread every time my phone rings. This slow-motion horror show of watching them decline while refusing help. The guilt when I'm with them, the guilt when I'm not, the guilt when I'm missing my own family's lives because I'm so consumed with saving them from themselves.

Tomorrow I'm calling Danielle at Lifeway. Maybe if I get them to do a free consultation, show Dad the photos of how discrete they look now... Maybe if I can get Mom alone, make her understand she's not helping him by pretending everything's fine...

Who am I kidding? They'll refuse. Again. And I'll be back here in my driveway at 3 AM, wondering how many more nights like this before...

[tear stains on paper]

The garage light just went on. Tom's up, probably wondering if I'm okay.

I'm not okay. None of this is okay.

But tomorrow I'll put on my brave daughter face again. I'll pretend last night didn't happen. I'll swallow my fear and my frustration and my rage at their stubbornness.

Because what else can I do? I can't force them. Can't trick them. Can't let them fall.

I just can't keep going like this either.

God, please don't let tonight be the night. Just give me time to figure this out. To find the right words. To make them understand before...

Tom's coming outside. Time to pretend I'm strong enough for another day of this.

• Jen

⚠️ How To Talk About Safety Without WWIII Breaking Out 🪖

Need Help? Click the yellow button!

Be sure to click the Notes buttons in the guide for all the details!

🖖🏻The Stubborn Parent Translator: What They Are Really Saying 👵🏻

(Because sometimes you need a decoder ring)

When they say: "I'm fine!"
They mean: "I'm scared of losing control"

When they say: "I've lived here for 40 years!"
They mean: "This house holds all my memories and I'm terrified of losing them"

When they say: "It's just a phase, I'm just tired"
They mean: "I'm scared shitless that this is permanent"

When they say: "Your father/mother managed just fine!"
They mean: "I don't want to look weaker than my spouse did"

When they say: "I'll think about it"
They mean: "Hell no, but I don't want to fight right now"

When they say: "Don't tell your sister/brother"
They mean: "I'm embarrassed and trying to control the narrative"

When they say: "It's too expensive!"
They mean: "I'm saving this money for YOU" (Even if you don't want them to)

When they say: "I don't need help!"
They mean: "I don't want to be a burden"

When they say: "I don't want to be a burden"
They mean: "I'm already feeling like one and it's killing me"

When they say: "You worry too much"
They mean: "I'm not ready to face this yet"

When they say: "I've got a system that works"
They mean: "Change terrifies me more than struggling"

When they say: "Your uncle Bob lived to 95 without help!"
They mean: "I'm cherry-picking examples to justify my denial"

When they say: "Stop hovering!"
They mean: "Each time you check on me, it reminds me I'm declining"

When they say: "We'll see how it goes"
They mean: "I'm waiting for a crisis to force the issue"

When they say: "Stop treating me like a child!"
They mean: "Please respect the parent I used to be"

And the hardest one of all...

When they say nothing at all.
They're screaming for help... but don't know how to ask.

🏆How To Handle The “I’m Fine” Conversation Without Losing Your Mind 🤯

Look, we all know how it goes...

Your mom almost falls. Again.

You suggest getting some help.

And suddenly you're in a verbal chess match with someone who taught you how to argue in the first place.

So here's your cheat sheet for handling the most common "I'm fine" defenses:

When they say: "I don't need any help!"
DON'T say: "Yes you do!"
INSTEAD try: "I know you don't need help right now. I'm just trying to prevent an emergency, so we both have peace of mind."

When they hit you with: "It's too expensive!"
DON'T say: "I'll help pay for it"
INSTEAD try: "Actually, getting help now is way cheaper than an ER visit later. Plus, most insurance covers this."

The classic: "I'm not leaving my house!"
DON'T say: "Nobody's making you leave"
INSTEAD try: "That's exactly why I'm bringing this up. The right help now means you can stay home longer."

My personal favorite: "Your father/mother never needed help!"
DON'T say: "Well, times are different"
INSTEAD try: "And I wish they had accepted help. It would've given us more quality time together."

The guilt trip: "You think I can't take care of myself?"
DON'T say: "Obviously not!"
INSTEAD try: "I think you're incredibly capable. This isn't about replacing you - it's about supporting you."

The shutdown: "We'll talk about it later"
DON'T say: "No, we need to talk NOW"
INSTEAD try: "You're right, this is a big decision. When would be a better time to discuss it?"

Remember:
• Stay calm (even when they're pushing your buttons)
• Focus on independence, not dependence
• Make it about YOUR peace of mind, not THEIR capability
• Use "we" language instead of "you" statements

Most importantly...

Don't try to win the argument.

Try to win the war on isolation and unsafe living.

Sometimes that means losing a few battles along the way.

Until next week, remember...
You're not failing if you haven't figured this all out yet. None of us have. We're all just trying our best to keep the people we love safe.

And sometimes, that's enough.

Take care,
Danielle

P.S. If any of this hit home today, feel free to shoot me an email. Your stories help me know what to cover next. And honestly. Sometimes it just helps to know we're not alone in this.