Feeling empty.
Worthless.
Lonely.
I have nothing.
I don’t have anything to give.
Hate my feelings
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Category Archives: depression
Going crazy Part V
Stalkingly read they are on their way out of the state. I am heartbroken. I feel completely deflated. I started an email and then thought better of it and it’s over. I will never have the chance again.
Hate myself as I knew I would. I organized and tried with the house and three weeks later it’s too late. I can blame others for time delay but I never took the step towards contact and now. Gone.
The self loathing continues. I hate myself so much. Here I am in Wisconsin and it means nothing. I feel dead stupid worthless hate myself ad nauseum.
Damn it.
Fuck u. Your chance is over life is the same as before they were here. Damn
The sense of impossibility is the beginning of all possibilities
I met at the bank with my b-in-law and my sis. We needed to meet with the investment banker to help gather money to pay for the facility my mother now lives in. We hadn’t even entered the bank and my b-in-l showed me their marriage certificate with the witness who signed it. This was someone off of the streets of Las Vegas. Someone with a funny name – Seewalla or something. But I immediately became more annoyed than usual because I almost felt like he was flaunting the marriage certificate. See here is PROOF of our marriage, just in case u wondered if it could be possibly real. Now of course I’m most likely reaching. I think he’s proud to be married to my sister. He loves her it’s clear and wouldn’t exactly FLAUNT the fact they are married now since it’s been….. three years? two years ah who cares. It’s been nearly 2 years. so I pushed these thoughts out of my mind. My sister’s name has changed since and this was the reason they brought the marriage certificate.
It was nearly an hour of paper work and discussing things we already knew. The investment banker took a look at the power of attorney docs and since I am secondary he asked for my driver’s license to have on record if anything would happen to my sis etc. While filling out the paper work he asked ‘single married?’ ….. I gave a pause AS IF there was another option and I was like ‘single.’ I guess….
Twelve years my significant other and I have been together. The two option question which I gave pause and felt my sister’s eyes on me, pondering what shall I chose? I wondered if she wondered and felt what I felt momentarily – releasing the information that I am “single” and clearly haven’t been for twelve years. I felt unjust. Unworthy of such an answer as single. I made a decision that if marriage equality EVER comes to WI I will use and take advantage of it. I mean what the fuck? I want to be seen as an equal member of society.
I feel less than. A big fat less than. And there the marriage certificate sat. My b-in-law showed me a sentence on the back – “this is not an official record of marriage” meaning that piece of paper I held and read the sentence off the back of. blah blah blah. A piece of fucking paper. My sis and him met in Sept and were married six months later.
It was scary and sad to know that there was no way to go back to the home I’d known
There was this look my mother gave me yesterday in the place that is now her home. She looked to me to laugh or be silly. I did a lot of crying yesterday. Saying goodbye to the adult day care facilitators broke my heart. Driving her to the memory unit, I cried all the way. Despite all the sadness she was fine. We tried to make her room as close to her bedroom as possible. Hanging her bird clock. Photos in the right spots. She said she was tired and got into her pajamas. We hugged her goodbye. I cried the whole way home. She was fine with us leaving her there and that makes it good and sad because she is so accepting. I spent today finding her belongings here and there. Her empty bedroom is so strange. I’ve never been without my mother in this house. This house will change and will no longer mean Mumma and home.
Stuff like this makes me go crazy
Read this on a Blog today:
In economic news, new census data shows nearly one in 15 Americans—more than 20 million people—are now so poor they live at least 50 percent below the official poverty level. The figure is the highest ever recorded. Forty states and the District of Columbia have had increases in the poorest of the poor since 2007. The District of Columbia ranked highest, followed by Mississippi and New Mexico.
And typically, when people size up the economy in the DC-Metro area as a whole (here we bring in Northern Virginia and adjacent counties in Maryland), you find that it’s the nation’s richest metropolitan area and boasts one of the nation’s lowest unemployment rates. Lotta concentrated income disparity in the Imperial City, is what I’m saying. Should be readily apparent to everyone who has a hand at the tiller or policymaking. But ignorance is a bliss served nightly at Charlie Palmer’s.
After I read this I went spinning out of control about getting a job and living somewhere else or getting an adequate job and not moving. Life goes on on this Caturday.
Midnight suduction
Today has been such a mind fuck. There isn’t another way to describe it. First it’s balmy outside, well almost…. This is screwy since it’s November fucking first. For some reason the last few weeks mom has been so lucid it’s bizarre. Calling things by their proper names, forming sentences, happy, laughing. It’s all a big mind fuck since it won’t last and she isn’t supposed to get better it’s all down hill. I went to my caregiver group where I cried which embarrasses me. I was actually exhausted driving home from the meeting. So many questions and what ifs there are the several ladies in the same boat wondering if we are doing the right thing or choosing the right place. I have kinda made my decision that I want her to go to this one place close by. Especially after hearing someone talk it up in the meeting this morning. The facilitator I love so much. She is so dear to me and all the group members. And I just feel so loved by all when we talk about what we’re going through. It just hurts so much. I hate having to think of my mother going to a place like a nursing home. This disease is not fair. I guess it ended up being a big pep talk. I spoke up a few times and wondered about if someone’s loved one progresses rapidly once they place them. Some agreed some didn’t. I felt so sad. The facilitator whom I love, began to speak of my mother and would she want me to suffer like this and push myself to these limits? No. But she’s not my mom anymore. So why am I taking care of her – she’s like a stranger. A stranger but yet there are those tiny glimpses of her that are familiar. But they go away so quickly. I guess I know the stranger better.
“everything is so nice.” she just came in the kitchen to tell me this and I have no idea what she is TALKING about. I am guessing she means her clean clothes? She hasn’t ever said that before. I don’t understand why she would say such a thing. It’s not my mother – but she’s being so sincere. Which makes it so much worse.
Someone says she’s so compliant and then I wonder well what’s wrong with me that I cannot take care of her. Is it really dementia they once said? Ugh…. I GUESS?? All this is fucking up my head today. I saw the admissions director for the place where my mom’s friend died last week on the way upstairs to the caregiver meeting. She called later in the day to inform me the check I wrote to hold her place in line was declined. Then she asked again why I didn’t want to place my mother yet. I don’t know. I guess I’m just not ready. I told her about the lucidness and I know it won’t last. We’re still looking at facilities, and making decisions. I couldn’t think of anything else to tell her. As I sit here thinking I wonder if everything I’m deciding about is right. Problems with this place – once mom is out of money she’d have to move out or apply for funding through the state which isn’t a guarantee she’d get. It’s far away. Not convenient to anyone. There doesn’t appear to be a program but I guess it’s better than some other places. So I need to write another check to cash – I am confused why they would cash it now.
We are so broke. The person I share my bed with’s car has broken and needs repairs that may cost up to three thousand or more. My car needs an oil change hardly anything to worry about.
Since mom has taken a turn for the worst especially when there is a large smudge of poop in between her butt cheeks frequently I have never felt more ready than I do to have children. This is the most bizarre thing. My ovaries are requesting attention or wondering why they are still sitting there doing the usual. I haven’t looked into anything in regards to this but I feel almost a desperation.
Pip keeps peeing while sleeping – what does that mean? It happened today while she was on the gold chair. a big puddle. Then more on the floor while she cleaned her fur from sitting in it in the gold chair.
I want a membership to costco but that costs fifty dollars to one hundred. We already are addicted to Sam’s club (hate) and Amazon prime (love). Their quality is much better there and I’m anxious to see their organic products.
I haven’t eaten a single healthy thing for many many weeks. I can hardly get my pants buttoned. It feels like just last week I was making shortbread candy bars and starting my demise into the bermuda triangle of holidays – halloween, thanksgiving, xmas. Here I am a year later not sure of how I got here but regardless I’m back up one hundred plus pounds. I cannot have anything in my life to complicate matters.
I tried to volunteer as a webmaster for a art program and one meeting with the group and I was pumped but I had to cancel the next meeting. I could not bring myself to go.
The Christmas music starts at 11PM tonight on my most favorite music channel on music choice – Sounds of the Season. I am listening to the last of Witch doctor, Gothic Girl, Monster Mash, Poltergeist theme, The Shape Stalks, Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman, oh so many others. Vampires by Christopher Lee is my favorite. I heard it last year for the very first time. It didn’t disappoint this year.
Today I ate cookies, chocolate pop tarts, Wendy’s cheeseburger, fries, and a medium (huge) coke. It all tasted weird to me so I gulped down some soda but threw away a few fries after they tasted bitter. All bad.
Another major point my beloved caregiver group facilitator whom I love discussed is the fact of health problems and issues. She has high blood pressure stemming from many years ago while she was in a very stressful situation. I always allow myself to say – yea well I’m thirty whatever and i’m young and I’m inconvincible. not true. my ovaries aren’t going to stay fruitful and ripe forever. this scares me. I know my mom wouldn’t want me to lose my opportunity to have a baby because of her.
Plagued by bloody noses I now have a sinus problem that is giving me terrible headaches. This doesn’t have anything to do with my sore jaw from clinching my teeth.
When I laid down for a nap today I immediately fell asleep even though my stomach hurt. Car problems, picking up, driving, picking up food, dropping off people, small short rest. I’m not drinking enough water either.
I bought prune juice, cranberry juice, cinnamon raisin bagels, half n half, organic half gallon of milk, and two containers of center cut bacon (so damn fucking good), a dozen organic eggs. So I’ll be set for breakfast for this week. Bacon, egg, cheese bagel sandwiches my so very favorite breakfast. Paired with a chocolate frosted honeymooner donut. What more could someone who can’t be bothered about their health ask for? Only that typing what I just typed makes me superstitious and I do care, I’m afraid not to.
For the first day of November I cried, became surprized once again at the darkness of morning and felt sad when I saw the Christmas trees go up this morning.
Hold up that hurt
My most favorite holiday is only days away and I can’t bring myself to bring out the scary orange symbolizing autumn and black symbolizing darkness decorations. And if I hear ‘Witch Doctor’ one more time I’m pulling my fingernails out. Oo ee oo ah ah bing bing wada lata bing bang — Stella
Infatuation in wane
Today I felt more human. Cleaned windows, went to doctor, showered mother all before noon. I had Mom put on Depends today. Heartbreaking. Luckily she did not notice. Or didn’t at the time. I’m pretty sad about it as it is another sign of decline. But no crying. It was a good day.
Another anti-depressant added. Placebo effect today.
I’ve got nothing particular to say, I don’t have any message to give anyone
I didn’t recover well from a family issue or rather conflict this morning. It left me in bed for the entire day. I heard each hour strike on the clock. I had both cats on the bed with me. We all know how cats like to “help” by ignoring your problems and walking all over your torso. Days are long but went by fast on one of the so called nicest days of the year I spent inside laying on my bed staring up at the fan. Pip would come in and say “heeeeeeeeyyyyy” but would walk out unsatisfied by my lack of attention. I heard my mother yell at her a few times but I couldn’t get up to check on what happened or if it was serious. Cry and cry. Apologizing to people I felt I wronged. Saying ‘I’m sorry over and over wasn’t curing it. Or making me stop crying. Check back later and see if I’d dried up and not quite yet. I managed to get up and take many headache remedies a never ending ache booming through my eyes and head. I wished the person I sleep next to at night was here. Phone calls emails nothing fixed the tears. I managed to make a some what healthy dinner of beans and tomatoes but wasn’t satisfied. Sometimes years go by and I don’t cry. Then it hits and I cannot be summoned to do anything. It’s embarrassing. It’s ridiculous. Nothing makes me stop. I wished for my mom. To make her make me feel better. A hug, a chest to lay my head on. Understanding. I thought the worst because I didn’t want to feel this way anymore. Ever again. Those forbidden feelings creep in. And thoughts of not seeing Pipi full grown didn’t sway me. I just want it all over. This scares me. Don’t want to feel that way again.
Symptom no. 72
This is the day where:
I woke up on my stomach. Cue extreme lower back pain that takes my breath away.
Brew coffee. Mom and I look at Martha’s July issue to get ideas for dinner. I see many ideas and become excited. I really need a cup of coffee before I can der Start this Thursday.
Allow Pipi back into the house.
Remove her puppy collar to find the one summer collar of Meg’s I’m willing to allow her to use. I open the plastic container marked ‘Meg’s collars’ to find the brand new Autumn collar she never wore. Cue excessive eye lubrication and temporary loss of breathing.
I lay in my bed allowing Stella to console me or pet her. I look at the frameless (The person I share my bed with became so angry she slammed my Mother’s bedroom door and I heard shattering glass. The frame broke around this photo.) picture of Meg from her first trip to the beach laying on the sand. I gather a stack of Meg photos I keep on my night stand and the beach photo. I have become inspired to print digital photos and place them in frames.
I go to the basement but cannot remember why. Standing while looking around my eyes fixate on something. What is it? I realize it’s Meg’s duck we bought for Valentine’s day. I sit on the bed petting Nova and Stella allowing them to console me.
I start a load of towels and remember I came to the basement to get out meat to defrost. I take out a whole chicken. I take out some ground beef. I decide to make grandma’s chicken and clean out a bucket to soak it.
I go upstairs sniffling.
Both sides of the sink are full. There isn’t a place for the meat. Start dishes. See mom standing in kitchen. Give her pills, juice, Kefir, muesli, flax, blueberries. I make the same for myself. Wash dishes.
Become annoyed.
Wanted some time to read while sipping my coffee, I fantasize.
Time for shower. Mother nearly enters with clothes on. I correct her. Shampoo and condition. Washrag with soap. She’s rinsing.
Return to kitchen. Find Pip’s footprints from waterbowl to foyer to porch. I open the backdoor wider to find an enormous puddle of urine. I find Pipi without a collar and carry her outside. Excessive eye lubrication and loss of breathing becomes the norm. I wipe up some of the urine but some is between the door and step to go outside. It’s hidden within the cracks. It’s as close to being outside without being outside. I feel sad knowing I watched her drink a lot of water in the minutes I woke up. I should have been more vigilant.
Mopping. My glasses slide down my nose and mom is still in the shower. I wash my hands and stop the water. I hand her her towel. I find Nova smelling the bleach on the floor. Writhing…. I get out the floor mop. I spray bleach and water down the foyer into the porch. I mop. I blow my nose. I let tears drop to the damp floor.
Back to mom: I scratch her sunburn to show her where to rub in the lotion. She says ow. Loss of breathing. I grab underwear, bra, pants I guess. I realize I cannot deal with putting her deodorant away. In the sink it goes.
She’s dressed now. I have given her a Kleenex for her dripping nose. I put toothpaste on her electric tooth cleaner. A glob drips off. I spill Listerine.
I just have to get back to my bed where I can ___ in peace. with Stella and Nova. I slam doors but none of this satisfies. I take one moment. I hear an odd noise. Mother cannot find where the top to the Listerine goes. I enter the bathroom and her toothbrush is running even though she’s no longer in the bathroom. In her broken speech and frustration she says ‘that’s not my …. ‘
‘I know. I know. I will take the blame.’
I walk into the kitchen, sip my cold coffee. Find my breakfast near the backdoor. My cats are bleach junkies and have knocked over the mop in their attempts to roll and twist plaster the bleach on their fur. I finish my breakfast. I still do not have a place for the meat to defrost.
Grab my breakfast bowl and in my haste it drops into the sink shattering into a billion shards.
Vacuuming now. It seems to not pick up the glass well enough for tiny petite animal padded paws to walk on.
Meat will have to be cooked to unfreeze. I stir. I go back to desk. I come back to sip coffee an stir. I see Pipi walloping through the living room with a piece of cardboard. Except it’s not. It’s the photo of Meg’s first time at the beach. Now with teeth marks from a pup.
I go back to stir splashing grease on the stove. ‘GODFUCKINGDAMNIT’ is all I can utter. I try to get a grip and look up at the temporary unease, despondency, therapeutic regimens I recently abandoned.
I restrained myself and counted the days before my appointment.
I never finished my coffee.