I grow more tired every single day. My Dad grows more difficult to deal with each day. The pain medication mixed with anti-anxiety medication has changed his personality even more.

I find myself jumping at his voice and trying to make myself invisible when he’s around. I cringe when he slams doors and growls at the smallest things. I know he’s in pain but none of this is helping me.

Where are my siblings? My brother is somewhere in the state but I haven’t heard from him in at least 8 months. He never called to wish my Dad a Happy 75th Birthday in June and he hasn’t been by to get his mail.

My twin sister didn’t call my Dad on his birthday either. She called after his birthday or said she would. We are having a tough time. I need help with my Dad and she refuses. She lives 10 minutes away and doesn’t work. She did say that her “Mono” became active again and she had to rest. I then find out that she’s at her mother-in-law’s beach house with the kids going to all these events. Not resting.

My Dad fell out of his truck after dialysis the other day and couldn’t get himself up from the hot pavement in our driveway. I couldn’t hear him yelling my name. He eventually crawled to the door. One arm was covered in blood and missing the skin on his entire bicep. I couldn’t stop crying while I cleaned him up and bandaged everything. Of course he yelled at me to “Quit your crying!”. He’s my Dad, I couldn’t help it.

I can’t watch another parent die. I’m not healthy enough. My last stent exchange didn’t go well. It was done May 20th and I’m still urinating mostly blood (sorry for the over sharing). I also have a lot of pain in my back and pelvis. I know something is wrong but I can’t take care of it right now. My Dad is going for Injection Therapy on his back on the 31st. I have to take him. I hate the hospital he’s having it done at, it’s where my Mom passed away, it’s where I died for a short time when I went into Kidney Failure, and it’s where nurses commented on my mental health in front of me.

I’m tired, lonely, angry, disappointed, and keep wondering why I’m fighting so hard.

People go out of their way not to talk to me. It isn’t because of anything I’ve said or done. It’s because of what I might say or do. And that’s the worst part of all.6fdde65c60ad6b93a59fc21b54fa7621

About darie73

I have lived with Bipolar Disorder since my early teens. I have lived with Social Anxiety Disorder for even longer. I self-medicated with alcohol for over 20 years, that's how long it took to get a diagnosis. I'm open and honest about my mental health so hopefully one day the system will change. View all posts by darie73

One response to “HOW MUCH LONGER?

  • N9th

    Oh, baby! I wish I was there! I would so help you. We bipolars have more strength than we know. Don’t give up!

    My brother does not help with the care of my mother or my father. He is just busy and caught up in his own drama. It is a shame because he is missing out. Grumpy, changing moods, chronic pain, irritation over the deterioration of her condition, all this is important and part of getting old. It is where she is now, my mom. It is what she is dealing with and he is missing out on the opportunity to show love, to extend fellow feeling and compassion, to protect and support. This is who she is now. And she needs love more than ever no matter how she acts or how annoying this or that little thing may be. It doesn’t seem to occur to my brother that mom HATES her life right now. Mom is moments from lying in bed and passive suicide ideation on most days. And he can’t see.

    Mores the pity for him. I am not saying I am better for acting on her behalf, I am saying it is so sad to do it alone. So sad not to share her good days, her laughing, her cooking, quiet movies, rocking to music in the car, so much good. And he is missing it. Her health is bad and she takes way too many pills. Who knows how much longer she will be here. You are so right. I am right there with you.


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