If you had asked me before last night how I felt about this whole thing with my dad, I would have told you it wasn't that big of a deal and I just wanted what was best for dad. Then last night I did't sleep at all. My mind wouldn't shut off. I finally gave up at 4:30 and just got up.
Then, of course, this morning, I feel like absolute dog poop from lack of sleep, then I had an anxiety attack and I feel as if I could burst into tears at any second. Of course I do, because I put makeup on today. I don't know how I can do this. I HATE the fact this is a 2-hour car ride away. I hate the thought of my dad living in some nursing facility. I hate the fact my dad has dementia. I hate, hate, hate this whole frigging mess. Most of all, I hate his damn wife for putting him in this position. What the hell. Or, maybe I hate my mother (even more) for not still being there. I mean, she was better than nothing. Not much, but a little. I hate the fact that she can't be a mother, that I don't have a mother to help shoulder a little bit of this load. I know no one thinks I'm sick, it's pretty obvious from the way everyone acts that I'm just fine and this is a bunch of bullshit that I dreamed up because, oh, I don't know, maybe I just want to sit around all day like a fucking lump and never feel like I'm a human anymore. Maybe it's really FUN to not sleep for 2 nights in the past 9 days because.... Because who the hells KNOWS why I haven't been able to sleep for 2 nights? Is it the fibro Is it the head injury residual? Did somebody slip some placebos in my Ambien? Or maybe Ambien isn't going to help me sleep anymore. I don't even want to think about that possibility.
Remember all those words George Carlin said you couldn't say on TV? Well, I want to say them all right now. That's how I feel. This is messed up and I don't want to do anything, but try to sleep. So, insert the words here and I'll try to concentrate on the fact that in 8 hours (hopefully less), I'll be home again. In my pajamas. Trying to sleep. Again.