I'm 21 years old and I've been involved with care giving for those with illnesses of all kinds through out the duration of my entire childhood, teen years and now my beginning adult life. I have witnessed the inevitable and hard lessons early on and though I try to be resilient through it all while holding on to what little I have to make me happy, life seems to never give me a break. I haven't been allowed to live a normal life. It started with my grandmothers kids and her father. My uncle (her son, psorisis, congestive heart failure), my great grandfather (her father, alzheimers) and last but not least, my mother (depression, pills, physical issues that I would assume were mostly mental along with pill abuse). They're all dead now. I've witnessed each one of them pass and so has my grandmother and while I've tried to juggle leading a normal life, helping her and getting somewhere to progress I find myself stuck in a stand still. I've had my own bouts of depression, dealing with trauma, being a social outcast due to those who are impatient with me and unable to understand. It's often maddening. I have no friends, but I have a loving boyfriend and two dogs that keep me going through all of this. My grandmothers illnesses are always changing. It all began with pills after her son passed away in 1998. I was 8 years old. His death hit me the hardest as he was more of a father to me then my own. With pills, she developed a liver condition which had plagued her for years though mysteriously it goes away and comes back. I feel like she needs her illnesses to feel special. Guilt is her game. That or she's just been wanting to die for years.
My mother also had to battle pills and deal with my grandmother, I seem to mirror her life without the pills. I won't even take a tylenol unless I feel like I'm going to die because I vividly remember flushing bottles of percecets and oxy cottons down the toilet because they were being abused when I was 12. I was 13 (2003) when my mother died via overdose. The image of it all sticks but I've learned to cope with it.
Nobody wants to lift a finger to do what is needed to put her into a nursing home (she's on old age pension) and I'm literally stuck because due to my own depression during my teens I dropped out of high school after turning 18 and I've been behind the rest of my age group ever since. I'm obviously still depressed. I have no job, no means to find a job and no money. I can't even go and get financial assistance because of where I live in town. It's far from any resources that I need.
Doctors don't help. They worsen things with added pills or taking pills away.
Her last living son is the only reason anybody in this house has a roof over our head. Money's tight. The house is falling apart and it's gloomy and dirty.
Nobody calls. Nobody visits. Nobody really sincerely cares. I hate it.
She's two faced all of the time and will talk baddly about me to anybody she can when she can. At this rate I won't even be able to go to her funeral nor do I even want to.
My younger brother who is 17 recently moved in because our father kicked him out. My father only cares about the women he's dating and being 20 years old every day of his life. He never has time. I've had a falling out with him which is nothing new.
He's into the party scene, drugs, drinking. He's had a history for being a thief. For some reason, my grandma favours him and he's done nothing for her and he's lazy. I've cleaned this disgusting house from top to bottom, fixed her meals, organized visiting nurses who only maintain her hygeine but it's better then nothing. Now that she keeps attacking me, I've stopped caring as much. And she still expects me to even after she shows me not even an ounce of love or care and takes advantage of everybody living in this house. And I'm sick of being everybodies door mat. I want peace. I want to live my life. But I can't. And I feel like things are just going to keep getting worse.