Things are really stressed right now. My grandmother was moved yesterday from the hospital to the nursing home. Trouble is... they moved her into the crazy wing. I'm talking straight out of the mother fucking cuckoo's nest. Granted, it was a mistake... but they had to keep her there for the night until they could figure out where to move her to.
My mother is really taking this hard and the house is kind of falling apart. I am really at a loss trying to be there for her. In fact, I don't even know how to be there for myself. I'm scared. I'm scared to see her looking and acting like some tragic, vulnerable, little old woman. That's not my Nonnie. My Nonnie is the caring mother-type figure that was always there for me when my mother couldn't be.
I can't handle her gaping mouth and her bugged out eyes. The memories of her life all being mixed around in her head and spurting out in nonsensical phrases.
I'm working over 60 hours a week between the dating service and the two colorguards. And that's not counting the 2 hours I spend everyday in the car driving back and forth. The trips to the hospital and now nursing home are adding up and I don't even have time to clip my damn broken fingernails.
The drama with the staff at one of the schools is getting out of control. My head pounds just at the thought of dealing with these people. So much for being able to use colorguard as a mental release. Instead I get to worry about petty bullshit that gets in the way of me dong my job.
And I wish I could tell you about the man I met. The late night hours of the last few days have been spent on the phone with him, trying to soak up all the goodness I hear spewing from his mouth. I've gotta tell you if it weren't for him right now... my heart would be so heavy. So tried and heavy with worry about my family and their physical health.
Worry that my grandmother just doesn't know how to let go of this world, instead just suffering and wasting away until she won't even remember it. Worry that my parents won't be around to see me grow up. To see me take on the world and win. To see me meet my match and start the rest of my life with him. Worry that my brother is caught up in this mess worse than I and that he might never get out alive. I'm scared that his heart is closing off already.
The money isn't coming in... the roommates are frustrated with me, I'm sure. It is very humbling to have to admit over and over and over again that you need help and that you can't handle your problems. The friends are distant, but only because I keep them there. I'm just sick of being "that friend" who is always stressed out and hurting.
Someday I will be the person that people look to and admire for having their shit together. Someday. Until then I guess I just have to settle for being the person who tries her damnedest to sort through all the mess.
Keep on marching, soldiers.
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