All of a sudden I feel like crying, breaking down into rivers of tears and I don’t know why. I’m sure it doesn’t help that I’m PMSing either. sighs I’m trying to work and just . Am I still having trouble accepting my Mother’s soon-than-not death? It doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t know why. It seems like everything was fine but the more I talk to her and know. It just infuriates me that she’s keeping information from me a lot! Albeit that I’m her youngest daughter, the only one who’s ever, probably, shown true respect for her as an adult so far in life and I do try to make her happy as much as I can. I’m sure that was a bit of tooting my horn but I don’t care. The more I understand, the more I know the end is coming…soon.
It’s my Mother. Whenever I think of her I think of that song that the Chipette’s sang in one of their movies about their Mother and how much they miss her. I’ll have to find it. sighs
At least she got discharged yesterday but only until she either has another infection (thought unlikely) or isn’t functioning till they run a test realizing she needs whole blood (very, extremely likely). They aren’t telling her anything much but she could just, again, be keeping information from me.
It’s very difficult. I’m also the one who has to tell everyone everything which makes it even worse because I feel like I’m the one with the bad news. No one wants to talk to me about me and how I’m doing. I’m not even a true caregiver. I’m just the 25 year old that can’t let go of her Mommy and as much as she wants to have hope that her Mother will fight this, doesn’t have any hope at all.
I have that problem, with having Faith. Why does it seems to matter so much to have Faith and have Knowledge? It’s sad but the only person or character rather that I know has had this issue is John
Constantine from the movie/comic series “Constantine.” See I know God is there and Angels and all that afterlife stuff. It has to be because there is so much that could have happened that didn’t because we had Faith and prayed and did what we did when we were younger.
I’m tired of being sad and frustrated and feeling practically useless. I want to be happy.
I DIDN’T MOVE HERE TO WATCH MY MOTHER DIE!!
That seems to be a running phrase in my head. It’s what I’m doing. I’m watching her slowly die. She can’t eat food, has to have intravenously otherwise she’d starve to death and probably died by now due to starvation or possibly bleeding to death from internal bleeding due to excess vomiting. sighs
Back to work.