I don't know what the hell to do about my dad. I can't do this anymore.
Last night, at 12:30 in the morning, I walked into the kitchen to grab some meat sticks and a diet root beer. He was in there, having a bowl of Cocoa Krispies before going to bed. A big 60 carb bowl.
Even though this note has existed on the cereal cupboard door forever:
I fuсking lost it. He asked me what was wrong with cereal, and I just went nuts. I ended up taking the rest of the box of cereal and dumping it in the woods behind our house. Then I started Googling my meds one at a time to see what the results would be of an overdose.
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I know what you are going through. I take care of my mother, who has dementia. You become a parent to your parent. It's maddening and it frays your nerves because your trying to do what's best for them and they're acting like irresponsible children. And no matter how many notes you write they all get ignored. I'm trying to learn patience. Deep breath...
