I Welcomed My Elderly Mother into My Home. Now I Regret it, I Can’t Send Her Away, and I’m Ashamed in Front of My Friends.

I took my elderly mother in, and now I regret it; I cant send her away and I feel ashamed in front of my acquaintances.
Today I feel the urge to put my heavy, personal story on paper, a weight that presses on my chest like a stone. I need a wise, thoughtful advice to understand how to escape the mire Ive sunk into myself.
Each of us carries our own worries and trials. We must learn not to judge others but to reach out when someone is drowning in despair, seeing no way out. No one is immunetoday you may judge, tomorrow you could become trapped by fate.
My mother, already 80, had lived in a small village near Rouen in an old, slopingroof house. Her health was failing, her legs gave out, her hands trembled, and she could no longer manage alone. I watched her fade away there, alone, and decided to bring her to my city apartment. I didnt foresee the burden I would bear nor the impact on my life.
At first everything went smoothly. Mom settled into my threeroom flat in Lyon, kept to herself, and seemed to respect my space. I had prepared a cozy bedroom for her with lovea soft bed, a warm blanket, a small TV on the bedside table. She only left the room to use the bathroom or kitchen, and I surrounded her with comfort. I followed the doctors diet: no fats, minimal salt, everything steamed. I bought her pricey but necessary medication with my salary. Her pension was meager, barely enough for the basics.
After a few months the situation deteriorated. City life bored hergray, monotonous, the concrete walls closing in. She began imposing her rules, picking fights over the smallest things, turning trivial matters into crises. Sometimes it was dust I hadnt cleared, other times a soup that wasnt perfect, or forgetting her favorite tea. Nothing pleased her; everything irritated her. Then the manipulation startedshe played on my pity, sighed theatrically, claimed she lived better in the village than in my prison. Her words cut like knives, yet I swallowed them, clenching my teeth, trying not to react.
My patience ran out. Constant reproaches, shouting, her perpetual dissatisfaction exhausted me. I began taking nervoussystem calming pills, and after work I found myself stuck at the doorway, unable to enter my own home. Behind that door was not a sanctuary but a battlefield where I lost every day. My life had turned into a hopeless nightmare.
Sending Mom back to the village isnt an option; the house is halfruined, cold, and uncomfortable. How could I abandon her there? What would people think? I already hear the disapproving looks and the whispers: A daughter who leaves her mother what a shame! I am ashamed just to entertain the thought, embarrassed before others and myself. But I cant go on.
The situation feels like a tight knot I cant untie. I am drained, empty, lost. How can I keep living under the same roof? How do I handle her stubbornness, the wall of complaints and grievances? How can I soothe her without losing myself? Im at a dead end, sinking deeper into despair each day.
Have any of you faced similar stories? How did you coexist with elderly relatives whose temperament is as harsh as sharp stones that test our patience? How do you keep your sanity when a loved one becomes your greatest trial? Please share your adviceI need a glimmer at the end of this dark tunnel.