Well. I'm a piece of garbage.
I've been trying to help my mom stay awake lately, at least until 10:00 p.m., so that she can sleep until 6:00 a.m. She's been waking up in the middle of the night because of all the stress she's under. It's stressful as hell, especially when she apologizes over and over for something she can't help. Half the time, I miss the thread of what's going on in the show we're trying to watch, because I'm 99% focused on waking her up every two seconds. So then we try switching between one show and another, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.
Tonight, it didn't. We were watching Elsbeth, and she just went down. She wasn't even making any sense when I asked her questions. She was talking about whatever was going on in her dreams.
I turned off the TV at one point, and she suggested instead that we try watching Discovery channel. So I turned it back on, put it on Discovery, and she instantly fell asleep again. And again.
Dad was just sitting there petting the cat, not doing anything to help the situation. About 20 minutes ago, he told her to just give up, because it was almost 9:30. But she was so far gone she couldn't even get up. Dad, who had basically been telling both of us what to do all night, told me to help Mom to bed, and I finally snapped. "And what are you doing?" I asked at full volume. Mom didn't take that well at all. She asked what was wrong, and I told her that Dad was telling me to help her to her room while he just sat there playing with his cat.
She got up and yelled, "Just leave me alone!" Which of course was like trying to put out a fire with gasoline. I started yelling about how I guess I should just kіӏӏ myself, and Dad yelled at me and called me a drama queen.
Because yeah. While I'm raging is exactly the time to tell me what's wrong with me, especially when you're the motherfuсker who created the situation that's keeping Mom awake all night. I screamed at him, something half coherent about knocking him on his аss, and he gave me that weary "Oh, Shadowfire..." that I always take to mean that I'm too much trouble, and that everybody would be better off without me.
Which is basically where I am now. Because Mom came back into the kitchen, having let the dog out for her evening роttу break before going to her kennel. She knocked the basket of dog toys all over the kitchen floor and said something about how she was going to be the one to put holes in the walls this time. She made absolutely no bones about who she was mad at, and it wasn't Dad.
So yeah. I'm looking at my vial of insulin right now, and I'm thinking I can't be trusted to get the right dosage. But I need the right dosage right now. And I'm thinking I want to just take it and not eat anything, to see how long it takes me to ԁіе.
Because I'm a drama queen, and I'm worthless, and I don't deserve her.
Tonight, it didn't. We were watching Elsbeth, and she just went down. She wasn't even making any sense when I asked her questions. She was talking about whatever was going on in her dreams.
I turned off the TV at one point, and she suggested instead that we try watching Discovery channel. So I turned it back on, put it on Discovery, and she instantly fell asleep again. And again.
Dad was just sitting there petting the cat, not doing anything to help the situation. About 20 minutes ago, he told her to just give up, because it was almost 9:30. But she was so far gone she couldn't even get up. Dad, who had basically been telling both of us what to do all night, told me to help Mom to bed, and I finally snapped. "And what are you doing?" I asked at full volume. Mom didn't take that well at all. She asked what was wrong, and I told her that Dad was telling me to help her to her room while he just sat there playing with his cat.
She got up and yelled, "Just leave me alone!" Which of course was like trying to put out a fire with gasoline. I started yelling about how I guess I should just kіӏӏ myself, and Dad yelled at me and called me a drama queen.
Because yeah. While I'm raging is exactly the time to tell me what's wrong with me, especially when you're the motherfuсker who created the situation that's keeping Mom awake all night. I screamed at him, something half coherent about knocking him on his аss, and he gave me that weary "Oh, Shadowfire..." that I always take to mean that I'm too much trouble, and that everybody would be better off without me.
Which is basically where I am now. Because Mom came back into the kitchen, having let the dog out for her evening роttу break before going to her kennel. She knocked the basket of dog toys all over the kitchen floor and said something about how she was going to be the one to put holes in the walls this time. She made absolutely no bones about who she was mad at, and it wasn't Dad.
So yeah. I'm looking at my vial of insulin right now, and I'm thinking I can't be trusted to get the right dosage. But I need the right dosage right now. And I'm thinking I want to just take it and not eat anything, to see how long it takes me to ԁіе.
Because I'm a drama queen, and I'm worthless, and I don't deserve her.
