Where is that straight jacket?

I am so tired.....so sick and tired.....of CRAZY! She has been "dying" for days now and hasn't gone any where yet. She screams and cries...."Help me Lord! HELP ME LORD!!!!!!!!!!!" Of course, in the next breath she is cursing. This afternoon she made Rebekah cry. My little mean girl was brought to tears by the 78 pound crazy woman. Now, that is just wrong. It should be the other way around, to make sense, I mean.
She came into the kitchen this afternoon to get something for her head. She claimed it hurt, but then said, "It ain't a hurtin', it's swimmin'" (Get your story straight!). I sent her to bed to lie down so her head would stop hurting, and she would get out of my hair. She began that crazy screaming, and then my name came up. "Julie.....Julie....Julie......Juuuuuullllliiiieeeeeeeeeeee........JUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"   I went into her room. "What?" I simply asked. "Com'ere" I walked over to her bed. She held up her arm she cut a day or so ago. "Put a banday on this". All that screaming for that tiny cut, which is healing, I might add. I put the band-aid on, left the room to only have to repeat the entire performance over a cut on her leg. This time, she changed the story about the cut. She claims to have fallen and cut her foot. I checked. NOPE, same old scabbed over cut on the back of her leg where the dog scratched her. She is doing this thing where if you question her, she gets mad and curses you out. She kept insisting I put something on the cut on her leg first before the band-aid. I put a little Vaseline on it. She went berserk, cursing and screaming at me. "That ain't gone help! DAMN VASELINE!" I wadded up the band-aid wrappers and put them in the trash and walked out. You cannot reason with her, question her, or even have a conversation with her unless you are as freaking crazy as she is. I'm almost there.