I've thought about writing this or something like it for a long time- I have been undecided as to whether it should be in the depression topic or anonymous confessions. I like the idea of being anonymous, and it is definitely a confession- so here goes.
My life is in shambles right now, I'm miserable and scared and depressed and angry all the time. To start off, after 3+ years with the person I thought I'd spend my life with, we bought a house and moved out of state together- things were not perfect, but I am so in love, I am willing to take the bad with the good. I left my family, my job, everyone and everything I knew- sunk my pitiful life savings into the move and put in a lot of work on the new house to make it fully ready to be lived in- I was excited and happy as we were really planning a future, we were actively trying to get pregnant, and I had landed a job in what was to be my new city, in my new state, where we would raise our babies, and invite my folks over for holidays. I spent less than 2 weeks in the house that we bought- before being told that I wasn't really loved or wanted. The humiliation of having to quit my new job, then come beg for my old one back- the humiliation of all the people I knew who hated or disliked the person I loved most giving me their proud "I told you so's" piled on top of the absolute heartbreak. No more babies, no more future plans, no more gardening- no more getting to start somewhere new and exciting. Just coming home, with nothing- not even any kind of pride or dignity or self-respect.
I'm now buried in debt, as I spent everything on the move, and was depending on the new job which was better paying- to reduce that debt in a reasonable time frame. I came home with nothing but a duffle bag- as I believed I'd be heading back to our new house after tying up some loose ends- but that's when I was informed that I wasn't loved or wanted- among other things. If someone could make a person feel like a disgusting, pile of shit- not hated, just nasty and a total waste- that's what I was told with the coolness and casual air of someone mentioning the weather in a conversation they were only halfway paying attention to. Having your heart ripped out so coldly-I don't think I'll ever understand it.
I had to beg for my personal affects to be returned to me, multiple times, pleading that I really needed my things- it wasn't until I pointed out that I hadn't left with enough underwear to last a week that my things were returned. And at that, I had to make a several thousand mile trip with almost no money to get prized heirlooms and other prized possessions. I left everything behind, my furniture, my dishes, my appliances. It burns me to think about the house I loved, and the person I loved- that my pans and pots are cooking their meals, that I will never have those kids we spent a year trying for, that we talked about while unpacking- when they knew they didn't want kids with me, or me at all.
That was just about 8 months ago. I quit my old job that I had to beg to get back, the stigma and constant conversations about my ex in addition to the high pressure of that job was just too much. I'm now working somewhere much better, but I am under employed for sure- which is horrible news for my finances, but a bit of a blessing because while I've had to move back home as in, with my parents- my Mother has become very ill. She needs constant care, and my Dad is very old, and he does his best- but he doesn't have the strength and skill to lift her- help her bathe and use the restroom etc; not to mention he has his own health issues as well. My sister, who lives at home on disability is also not doing too hot- so between her and my Mother someone is always in the hospital or the ER. My sister is ambulatory- but she suffers from severe depression and tries to commit suicide whether it's attempts to OD or to stop eating and taking her medications- she has induced diabetic ketoacidosis numerous times; while she is able bodied, she needs to be monitored as well.
When I moved- my Mother was in good health, considering her age and other factors. In the 8 months that I've been back home she's been in & out of the hospital numerous times- and she's become so frail and ashen- she's lost a good majority of her hair, she weighs perhaps 90 lbs, most of which is fluid build up. She cannot walk anymore because she's just wasting away. When I bathe her, there is no muscle there, she looks like the images of starving people you see in history books or ads for feed the children, skin on bone and bloated abdomen. her skin is all scales and sores and sloughing off everywhere, her body leaks fluids through her skin so much that I'm changing her bandages and clothing and bedding constantly. She is in the hospital right now, but only because we forced her to go. Forced her to bathe, forced her to dress, forced her into the car. Last week she fell down at some early hour in the morning, my Father had to come wake me as he couldn't pick her up off the floor- she had a deep gash on her forehead, and another on her scalp, as well as a massive bruise where her glasses smashes against her nose. She looked like she had been pummeled. I treated her wounds as best I could and suggested she go to the hospital for some stitches, which she refused. I asked if she could see okay, and she seemed to be able to focus well. Today at the hospital she tells the Doctor that she's had bouts of blindness since the fall. She has constant tremors,she is swollen and yet nothing but sores & bone. I've had to do things for her- personal care stuff- that just gets to me in a profound way.
I'm constantly worrying that she's going to be dead, every night when I put her in bed, and every time she takes a nap- if I hear her cough or wretch from another room, I am constantly, CONSTANTLY dreading and fearing the moment when she's going to just stop being alive. I hate watching it happen in slow motion, I hate that her body is failing so fast and so far ahead of her mind- she wants to walk, she wants to wipe herself, she doesn't want to wear diapers- but her body allows her no dignity, as she calls it. Sometimes she's surly and just cruel to my Father, she tells him he's stupid and doesn't understand anything and she yells at him and tells him off. Then she tells me about it after he's gone on some errand, as if I didn't hear him get berated the first time. I hate feeling in the middle, and my sister- she joins in on my Dad- even though she isn't here enough to actually know what's happening. I just want to rage at everyone- my Mom, for being so cruel and stubborn, my sister for insinuating herself into an issue that isn't hers, for pretending to be doting, while she's either out every night, or hiding in her room. And my Dad, I can't blame him for taking off to run errands or hiding away from her when he does- but who has to take care of her then? I do. I have to be here all the time, always listening and asking and wiping and bandaging- and I don't mind... I mean, it's my Mom and I love her, but that's what makes it so hard. It isn't the way in which ones body betrays them over time, it's that it's my Mom. It hurts so much to hear her frustration and anger and how she takes it out on my Dad, it hurts to see her body falling apart, seeing her struggle and suffer; it scares the hell out of me, and it makes me mad that there isn't a fix for her- she just is dying. I guess the confessional portion of all this is that, I feel so alone in all this. My ex put a wedge between me and a lot of the people I know. I don't have anyone to talk to, I have no comfort in all of this shit that's gone on- no close friends. I want to be held and cry a big long ugly cry- but there isn't anyone to hug me and let me snot up their shoulder. I just want that comfort, that I'd have gotten from my ex- well, maybe not- or from my Mother when I was a child.
My Dad is a man of lectures, who does not hug, and seldom cries- and he's the worst at saying anything comforting at all. My sister, I love her and she's been through a lot, but she just makes me mad. So here I am, alone- lonely, putting on a comforting, warm loving face for my Mum, and a competent, strong face for everyone else. Crying and hurting on the inside over what I know is to come, thinking of the holidays and the heartache and the immeasurable absence she will leave. Worrying how everyone else will cope, what's my Dad going to do? Will my sister make it through? Will my brother criticize me from afar- seeing as he isn't even here but seems to know what everyone should do. I worry that things are going to fall apart for everyone.
