Realistic Pessimism

Restless, on edge...trying to make myself think positive, look forward, seek out the silver lining. Every day it gets harder...harder to get up, to care, to live. I've lost something along the way, something crucial to who I am. The person I fought to be for so long. Now? I feel that precious part of me slipping away... Lost within the debris of an existence I never asked for.

One thing after another, fighting to keep going, to not snap, to not feel broken inside, to force a smile when all I want to do is scream. This has become my personal hell, a nightmare in which there is no escape. Every day...the bricks continue to fall, piece by piece, more lost to an unfeeling fate.

I don't want this anymore.

Things are supposed to get better, just hang on...two more weeks. By December 15th. But who's the one to Clean this pit when I'm constantly bombarded with the needs of an ill parent? Yes, to be rescued would be a miraculous thing. It's not realistic. I need to shut down, buck up and just do it. No seeing friends, no having a personal life. That ended the moment my Father's liver began to quit.

I'm struggling to find the right words, the best way to convey the pressure bearing down on my chest. I've felt these negative emotions at such a constant rate that they've begun to dig under my skin. They're becoming a part of me.

I hate the thing I've become.

Eternally I'm clawing at the walls, desperate for an escape, to run from all the hurt and the pain... The stress has taken its toll on me. Too much or not enough rest, barely an appetite, chest pains on a constant basis due to clenching my mouth shut when my Father speaks something that triggers my growing anger. Feeling weak and sad. Finding that I've lost interest in the things I once loved. Even the simplest task, writing a blog for instance, is incredibly hard to do because I find myself losing interest. My mind blurting out, 'what's the point?' and I just give up and do something else that's mindless due to my Father constantly asking me about something in some fashion or another and it's honestly pointless to try and focus on something for longer than five minutes because I'll be interrupted. I'm actually forcing myself to write this as I type along black keys, even if he stops me to say something At Me...I'll finish this.

It seems that I'm coming down with a cold again...I never get sick like this. My body also reacted by causing my Skin Condition to Flare up, so I'm in a tremendous amount of pain and there's nothing I can do but wait it out. And it doesn't matter if I'm exhausted, depressed, weak and in pain... I'm supposed to take care of him, the cats, the apartment, my car. I do not get the luxury of a break. I don't just sit here, twiddling my thumbs, all this time on my hands. No. I sit here, constantly on edge (even now) waiting for another request, another interrupted moment because he can't help but voice a thought that hit him. I'm hyper sensitive to everything he does or says, I'm never at ease. I try to relax when he goes to lay down for a bit, but even then I can't relax because he'll call for me unexpectedly. This is every moment of everyday. I can't get away from it, even when I leave for a short while to spend time with friends, I'm worried about him, his well being...and if he'll still be here when I come home. Then the guilt sets in... How can I leave him alone like that? How can I even think about myself when he's unable to take care of himself? What if he falls? What if he stops breathing? What if?

This is maddening...and I've been trying so hard to do everything in my power to help, everything I can possibly think of...and it's just not enough. It weighs so heavily on me, the thought that I'm fighting something that feels impossible. As much as I want to just go 'POOF' there's a stubborn spirit inside me that won't let me just give up and I fucking hate it. Not only am I prisoner in my own home, a pseudo-servant to my father's endless requests and needs...I'm a prisoner in my own mind. I can't even escape into a story of my own creation, a place where I can do anything I want...be whatever I want. That spark just isn't there. There's a moment where I think of it and consider it, but it's suddenly swept away by this thick fog of despair.

I'll keep going because I don't have a choice. No matter how much I want to run, no matter how hard this continues to be... I'll just keep going. That's all I've got. Even in those moments when all I feel is frustrated induced rage, when every muscle tenses painfully and all I want to do is break something and scream myself hoarse, I hold it all in and feel the cold sweep through me and swallow it. I keep it hidden...even if it means it'll continue to rip me apart, making me physically ill and emotionally hollow, falling apart in the shower as the water sweeps the evidence away... I will remain.

It's gotten to the point that I just don't care about myself anymore. It's not a pity party or a self destruct thing, I honestly just do not have time to worry about me on top of everything else. Dad, the cats, the apartment, food, the car, the store, his needs, constant...neverending. 

-sighs softly and takes a drink of her coffee-

I'm just tired...of everything. I'm sure getting a cold, the debilitating flare up, the pain in my spine and the ache behind my eyes isn't helping things. It's just a struggle to see the good in anything anymore when all I see is more dirt being piled onto the lid of this coffin I'm buried in.

Apologies if this isn't the kind of thing you want to read coming from someone who's usually bright and shiny. But sometimes...being positive is too draining. I want to be, it's my nature to be happy... I'm just having a hard time imagining my life being better. Hell, I can't even think about tomorrow. My brain has actively stopped me from day-dreaming (and for those that know me, that's really bad). I don't think about the future anymore, because this is all I see. It's hard to look at the forest when you're trapped within the trees.

It's a real bitch when you're the kind of person that actively analyzes Everything and doesn't just focus in on one aspect. That seeks out all paths, all routes, all possibilities. Seeking out the positive in everything.

For me to just...give up. Basically forced to take a step back from who I am and just exist for the sake of someone else's well-being. It's a bitch, but it is what it is. 

Gotta love adaptability.

-Anon-