Beaubonic
Well-Known Member
I guess I will start by saying this:
If at any point you tell me that I need professional help or anything of the sort, I will never speak to you again, place you on ignore, and disembowel your cat!
Moving On!
As, I'm sure, many of you know, I take care of my grandfather. My grandmother passed away two weeks after I turned 21, and I moved in with him permanently in order to care for him, and keep him out of a "home". My grandfather is a very stubborn man. He won't tell me when he's not feeling good, he refuses to ask for help, he falls and hurts himself, yet won't tell me about it... he then proceeds to go to daycare and tell them all of these things, so I end up looking like I can't take care of him. He has a therapist, whom he tells that we're not cleaning the place, we won't allow him to turn on the heat, we don't make him anything for dinner, etc. etc. His therapist turns around and tells him we're taking advantage of him, we don't care about him, he should be in a home, etc. etc.
Now, before you ask. Yes, cleaning was slow-going, but never non-existent. We have never denied him heat. However, we have oil heating, and do have to keep it a tad low. We cannot afford to have the house a constant 65-70 degrees throughout the winter. Also, he gets Meals On Wheels. More times than not, he uses that as a dinner, and never even asks us if we have anything planned. Now, back to the "story".
It's been recorded that when an elderly person loses their life partner, they typically pass away within the first year without their spouse. Well, I'll be 23 in April. In the near two years I've been here, I've witnessed my grandfather slowly slipping. He's constantly getting pneumonia and he's constantly falling. He refuses to use his by-pap machine, he forgets to use his oxygen. He sits around and tells me a story, then proceeds to tell me the same story 2-3 more times throughout the day. No, he does not have Alzheimer's. He has ulcers, he's on 24/7 oxygen, he takes about 500 pills a day, and he's been going through all of this for a lot longer than my grandmother having passed. Yet, he "forgets" and/or just won't take care of it, or tell me about it.
I moved in here to take care of the man, and yet I feel like all I'm doing is sitting around, watching him die. Very slowly, I might add. What pisses me off more, is I'm the ONLY ONE doing it. My brother gets angry when he's asked to take over for me, so I've stopped asking. Argue that all you want, thee, it doesn't make it any less true. My parents are too 'busy' with work to be able to move in for even a weekend to give me a break. So I'm the only one sitting here watching my grandfather throw what's left of his life into the percolator. Now, granted Chiba is here with me, but this isn't his grandfather. I still feel alone in the battle, and watching all of this unfold.
Now, it does not help that I watched my grandmother lie dying in the hospital. My grandmother was an amazing woman. She ran charities, church vestry, gave thousands of children many a merry Christmas, and made sure nearly everyone in our town had a thanksgiving meal large enough to accommodate their whole family, every year for about 20 years. She worked with the mentally handicapped in, and out, of our high school. Even fostered a few kids. This woman took me in every time I got arrested and sent to juvie. She made it possible for me to stay out of the system. Even when I did end up in foster care, she stepped forth so that when I was allowed back into Vermont, I wasn't going to end up in yet another foster home. My grandmother, while I was under the age of 18, was more of a mother to me than my own mom.
2008, she fell off of a step ladder and splinter-fractured her left leg in five places. 2009 she lost her leg to a gangrenous infection. 2010 she was diagnosed with bladder cancer. This woman had type 2 diabetes and was 67 years old, she was never supposed to be put through chemo. They put her on it anyway. She was supposed to end her chemo two days after my 21st birthday. Instead, she started getting really sick that February and had to keep pushing her dates back. She got so, so very sick, and the hospital administering the chemo never stopped to look at what was wrong. Not until it was too late. End of March comes around and she's all but completely wasted away. She's too dehydrated to move. The hospital FINALLY thinks, Oh, hey, maybe we should admit her. Something is obviously wrong.
I celebrated my birthday in my grandmother's hospital room. The day before Easter, I get a call on my cell telling me that my grandmother is being rushed to the ICU, and my grandfather has rolled his car and is now admitted into the same hospital. I was too far away to get there, so I had my mom keep me updated. Easter, I get another call. My mom is crying, she doesn't think my grandmother will make it through the night. I have to have my boyfriend's family end their festivities and rush me over to the hospital. My grandmother contracted a highly contagious infection in her lungs while in the hospital. The nurses all had to wear that disposable hospital hazmat type shit. Kept trying to make us wear it, too.
A week later, they inform us that nothing they're doing is helping her. They move her back to the third floor where she was before. They make her "comfortable". They pump her full of drugs to suppress the pain and keep her asleep. Every time the meds wore off, she had a panic attack and sat up, scrambling to get the masks off because she couldn't breathe. I stayed at the hospital for three days/nights straight, watching this go on.
One morning, about 2:00 AM, the nurses asked us to leave the room so they could clean her up. Let my grandfather stay, though. My dad and I went into the physical therapy room and goofed around a little bit. About 35 minutes pass and my dad feels it's taking too long, he goes to check and finds that the nurses have left, never told us we could go back in. As he goes to go in, a nurse cuts him off, holds him up in the doorway for about seven minutes telling him my grandmother has refused her meds and her oxygen. My dad pushes past her and goes to tell my grandmother he loves her, that it's okay to let go. Everyone but me got to do that. I didn't even know my grandmother had decided to die that night. I was still in the therapy room drawing happy pictures on the white board for the morning patients.
April 30, 2011, 2:43 AM. My grandmother passed away. I never said goodbye. I never got to tell her I loved her that last day. I didn't get to hug her living body. I feel like I let her down by not being in there with her. I've also never been able to let it go. I am physically unable to forgive myself for not being in there. I don't know why, really. Everyone keeps telling me to. But I can't. It eats away at me every year. More so in December, than April, though.
My grandmother did everything for everyone. My grandfather sits around, drinks coffee, and watches TV all day. Always has. I still find myself wishing it was him instead... I'm his fucking granddaughter. I am not supposed to feel like that! I feel like the day my grandmother died, I lost my life, my freedom. I'm not supposed to feel like that either. So not only am I always mad at him, I'm always mad at myself. I can't stand that I feel the way I do about him. I get to the point where I want to cut again. I get suicidal thoughts. I'll never do it, he needs me, I'm the only one here for him. It's a fucking circle. A hellish circle of thoughts that are killing me from the inside.
Then, on top of all of that shit, there's money. I can't hold a job, I'm denied SSI, I just fried my netbook, I have all these people wanting me to go to PAX East, and I'll have to pay for Chiba as well. I have the shittiest job in the world, despite how glorious it may sound. By the time my paycheck comes around again, I'm back down to < $20 in the bank account. That, and I still owe somebody $500 for last PAX. So, now I feel like I'm letting down my family, and everyone at PAX.
More days than not, lately, I feel like I'm not wanted. I'm not loved, not needed. That's probably just a projection of how I feel about myself. But I just keep feeling everyone's moving on without me. Or will, if I don't get to PAX. I feel like this is my only safe haven, and everyone's leaving me behind anyway. All these feelings, on top of being sick all the time, I snap. I snap at everything lately. I yell at my grandfather, I yell at new members, I yell at Chiba, my pets... I just lose it with nearly everyone. Especially whenever they do something or say something so profoundly stupid.
I've picked up the habit of trying to make people quit Team9000 within their first week when they come in here and I feel like they're trying to ruin my haven, my home. Not everyone, of course. Just the ones who really seem to want to ruin this place... or think they're better than everyone, or smarter, or think Wooty has no say in what they do. I just can't stand it, I feel the need to protect the only thing I have left...
Anyway, I just wanted everyone to know why I'm such a psychotic cunt nugget lately. I don't know if I can fix it, I don't know if any of you can help, either. I just needed to get this out there. I needed to explain the uselessness and pain I feel everyday. I needed some form of release, I can't, won't go back to cutting myself. Not after all I went through to stop...
I love you guys. I'm sorry for all I've said and done to any and all of you lately. I hope, if I've ruined any of my friendships, that I can do something to fix them. Just, please guys.
Don't leave me behind...
If at any point you tell me that I need professional help or anything of the sort, I will never speak to you again, place you on ignore, and disembowel your cat!
Moving On!
As, I'm sure, many of you know, I take care of my grandfather. My grandmother passed away two weeks after I turned 21, and I moved in with him permanently in order to care for him, and keep him out of a "home". My grandfather is a very stubborn man. He won't tell me when he's not feeling good, he refuses to ask for help, he falls and hurts himself, yet won't tell me about it... he then proceeds to go to daycare and tell them all of these things, so I end up looking like I can't take care of him. He has a therapist, whom he tells that we're not cleaning the place, we won't allow him to turn on the heat, we don't make him anything for dinner, etc. etc. His therapist turns around and tells him we're taking advantage of him, we don't care about him, he should be in a home, etc. etc.
Now, before you ask. Yes, cleaning was slow-going, but never non-existent. We have never denied him heat. However, we have oil heating, and do have to keep it a tad low. We cannot afford to have the house a constant 65-70 degrees throughout the winter. Also, he gets Meals On Wheels. More times than not, he uses that as a dinner, and never even asks us if we have anything planned. Now, back to the "story".
It's been recorded that when an elderly person loses their life partner, they typically pass away within the first year without their spouse. Well, I'll be 23 in April. In the near two years I've been here, I've witnessed my grandfather slowly slipping. He's constantly getting pneumonia and he's constantly falling. He refuses to use his by-pap machine, he forgets to use his oxygen. He sits around and tells me a story, then proceeds to tell me the same story 2-3 more times throughout the day. No, he does not have Alzheimer's. He has ulcers, he's on 24/7 oxygen, he takes about 500 pills a day, and he's been going through all of this for a lot longer than my grandmother having passed. Yet, he "forgets" and/or just won't take care of it, or tell me about it.
I moved in here to take care of the man, and yet I feel like all I'm doing is sitting around, watching him die. Very slowly, I might add. What pisses me off more, is I'm the ONLY ONE doing it. My brother gets angry when he's asked to take over for me, so I've stopped asking. Argue that all you want, thee, it doesn't make it any less true. My parents are too 'busy' with work to be able to move in for even a weekend to give me a break. So I'm the only one sitting here watching my grandfather throw what's left of his life into the percolator. Now, granted Chiba is here with me, but this isn't his grandfather. I still feel alone in the battle, and watching all of this unfold.
Now, it does not help that I watched my grandmother lie dying in the hospital. My grandmother was an amazing woman. She ran charities, church vestry, gave thousands of children many a merry Christmas, and made sure nearly everyone in our town had a thanksgiving meal large enough to accommodate their whole family, every year for about 20 years. She worked with the mentally handicapped in, and out, of our high school. Even fostered a few kids. This woman took me in every time I got arrested and sent to juvie. She made it possible for me to stay out of the system. Even when I did end up in foster care, she stepped forth so that when I was allowed back into Vermont, I wasn't going to end up in yet another foster home. My grandmother, while I was under the age of 18, was more of a mother to me than my own mom.
2008, she fell off of a step ladder and splinter-fractured her left leg in five places. 2009 she lost her leg to a gangrenous infection. 2010 she was diagnosed with bladder cancer. This woman had type 2 diabetes and was 67 years old, she was never supposed to be put through chemo. They put her on it anyway. She was supposed to end her chemo two days after my 21st birthday. Instead, she started getting really sick that February and had to keep pushing her dates back. She got so, so very sick, and the hospital administering the chemo never stopped to look at what was wrong. Not until it was too late. End of March comes around and she's all but completely wasted away. She's too dehydrated to move. The hospital FINALLY thinks, Oh, hey, maybe we should admit her. Something is obviously wrong.
I celebrated my birthday in my grandmother's hospital room. The day before Easter, I get a call on my cell telling me that my grandmother is being rushed to the ICU, and my grandfather has rolled his car and is now admitted into the same hospital. I was too far away to get there, so I had my mom keep me updated. Easter, I get another call. My mom is crying, she doesn't think my grandmother will make it through the night. I have to have my boyfriend's family end their festivities and rush me over to the hospital. My grandmother contracted a highly contagious infection in her lungs while in the hospital. The nurses all had to wear that disposable hospital hazmat type shit. Kept trying to make us wear it, too.
A week later, they inform us that nothing they're doing is helping her. They move her back to the third floor where she was before. They make her "comfortable". They pump her full of drugs to suppress the pain and keep her asleep. Every time the meds wore off, she had a panic attack and sat up, scrambling to get the masks off because she couldn't breathe. I stayed at the hospital for three days/nights straight, watching this go on.
One morning, about 2:00 AM, the nurses asked us to leave the room so they could clean her up. Let my grandfather stay, though. My dad and I went into the physical therapy room and goofed around a little bit. About 35 minutes pass and my dad feels it's taking too long, he goes to check and finds that the nurses have left, never told us we could go back in. As he goes to go in, a nurse cuts him off, holds him up in the doorway for about seven minutes telling him my grandmother has refused her meds and her oxygen. My dad pushes past her and goes to tell my grandmother he loves her, that it's okay to let go. Everyone but me got to do that. I didn't even know my grandmother had decided to die that night. I was still in the therapy room drawing happy pictures on the white board for the morning patients.
April 30, 2011, 2:43 AM. My grandmother passed away. I never said goodbye. I never got to tell her I loved her that last day. I didn't get to hug her living body. I feel like I let her down by not being in there with her. I've also never been able to let it go. I am physically unable to forgive myself for not being in there. I don't know why, really. Everyone keeps telling me to. But I can't. It eats away at me every year. More so in December, than April, though.
My grandmother did everything for everyone. My grandfather sits around, drinks coffee, and watches TV all day. Always has. I still find myself wishing it was him instead... I'm his fucking granddaughter. I am not supposed to feel like that! I feel like the day my grandmother died, I lost my life, my freedom. I'm not supposed to feel like that either. So not only am I always mad at him, I'm always mad at myself. I can't stand that I feel the way I do about him. I get to the point where I want to cut again. I get suicidal thoughts. I'll never do it, he needs me, I'm the only one here for him. It's a fucking circle. A hellish circle of thoughts that are killing me from the inside.
Then, on top of all of that shit, there's money. I can't hold a job, I'm denied SSI, I just fried my netbook, I have all these people wanting me to go to PAX East, and I'll have to pay for Chiba as well. I have the shittiest job in the world, despite how glorious it may sound. By the time my paycheck comes around again, I'm back down to < $20 in the bank account. That, and I still owe somebody $500 for last PAX. So, now I feel like I'm letting down my family, and everyone at PAX.
More days than not, lately, I feel like I'm not wanted. I'm not loved, not needed. That's probably just a projection of how I feel about myself. But I just keep feeling everyone's moving on without me. Or will, if I don't get to PAX. I feel like this is my only safe haven, and everyone's leaving me behind anyway. All these feelings, on top of being sick all the time, I snap. I snap at everything lately. I yell at my grandfather, I yell at new members, I yell at Chiba, my pets... I just lose it with nearly everyone. Especially whenever they do something or say something so profoundly stupid.
I've picked up the habit of trying to make people quit Team9000 within their first week when they come in here and I feel like they're trying to ruin my haven, my home. Not everyone, of course. Just the ones who really seem to want to ruin this place... or think they're better than everyone, or smarter, or think Wooty has no say in what they do. I just can't stand it, I feel the need to protect the only thing I have left...
Anyway, I just wanted everyone to know why I'm such a psychotic cunt nugget lately. I don't know if I can fix it, I don't know if any of you can help, either. I just needed to get this out there. I needed to explain the uselessness and pain I feel everyday. I needed some form of release, I can't, won't go back to cutting myself. Not after all I went through to stop...
I love you guys. I'm sorry for all I've said and done to any and all of you lately. I hope, if I've ruined any of my friendships, that I can do something to fix them. Just, please guys.
Don't leave me behind...
....
