Having a Bad Day
Warning: Venting Alert! Please don't give me flack for this entry. I already know I'm angry and venting. If I was this terrible of a person, I wouldn't even be here writing this, I'd be gone living my own life. When I first got to mom's house, she was going to church, visiting friends, doing monthly luncheons, taking long walks on her own, doing her own shopping, writing the bills, she saw doctors regularly, had a vegetable garden.
She was completely running her life. The only thing she couldn't do was drive. That was making her life difficult, so I moved, from another state, to fill that one little gap.
Fast forward five years. I do everything. She can no longer do anything.
She sleeps late, has lunch, sleeps all day in front of the television, has dinner, goes to bed.
That's it. That's all she can do.
So here I am.
This house is over 60 years old and is falling apart. It needs a major overhaul or sell it. I keep patching things up to keep it going because it's not worth sinking money into at this point.
Mom has no illnesses, no diseases, takes no medications, sees no doctors.
I am maintaining her life and this house, for her, so she can sleep and eat. And that's it. That's all it is.
In the meantime, my life is on hold. I'm not living with who I want to be with. I'm not living in the town I want to live in. I'm not living the life I want to be living.
And I just don't understand it. I don't know why it's happening. I don't know why I'm here.
I don't know what it's all for. I don't know how long it's going to go on. It absolutely has no meaning anymore.
And that's all I have to say.
It's a bad day.