I don’t know what to do anymore

[saitaina]

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

I feel so…lost. And every time I try to grasp something, it keeps slipping away.

My mother is refusing to take care of her cancer. Absolutely, un-equivically refusing. She won’t seek treatment, she won’t…do anything. But sit there and wait for it to get worse. She thinks since she’s going to die anyway in five years (some…test her doctor gave her indicates she only have five years to live, it measres some enzyme or level in your heart, I’m not clear on that, but I know her heart attack skewed the results), what’s the point?

Plus there’s the financial aspect, my mother is on medicare, which is not the cream d l’creme of insurences, especially when it comes to the treatment of things. So she would have to pay quite a bit for her surgeries.

And now there’s this whole thing with grandmere. Grandmere seems hell bent on making everyone around her as miserable as she is, and my mother is an easy target because her buttons are so easy t push. Ever since Grandmere’s gotten out of the hospital, all she does is bitch and moan and pick at my mother until mum is a gibbering mess.

It’s enough to make me wish the old woman had snuffed it as a Christmas present to her family, and I want to feel bad about thinking that way, but…I can’t. When it comes down to it, I would always choose my mother over an old lady I can’t stand.

But no matter how much I wish it otherwise, my Grandmother is still here and still getting better, and each moment she gets stronger, my mother gets weaker, dragged down by taking care of her backstabbing and bitter mother.

I spent the past two day, trying to keep my mother alive, because she was dragged so far down she was ready to kill herself.

…

…I can’t keep doing this. I can’t. I can’t keep balancing my vindictive Grandmere, a sucidal mother, the rest of the family who doesn’t fucking care, my own things that I have to do…things I LIKE to do but really, aren’t that important…I mean, who cares if I have an icontest to run or a website to build when my family is crumbling…

…I’m so tired of it all. And I can’t tell anyone because they just pat me on the head or tell me to get over it. I’m so fucking tired, of ‘getting over it’.

Last night I took three sleeping pills in order to escape from it all, unsure if I would wake up to find my mother dead or not…they were the only three I had. If I had had more…I’m afraid I would have taken whatever I had in my attempts to escape, so easily just walking away.

I don’t know if I want to die, but I’m so desperate for it to stop, for everything to just…go away for a moment, that…that the idea is looking better every moment.

I’m scared, I’m so fucking terrified, for my mother, for our futures, for the cold night when I just give up, a night that is approching ever closer…the fear is the only thing I can feel, everything else is dead and numb. I lay in bed all day, unable to get up, finding sleep my only escape from life, which causes more problems with my mother because I’m just laying there, ‘enjoying myself’ while she’s struggling to deal with everything.

And I can’t talk to anyone about this, because no one fucking cares.