G
GodisWithin
Guest
Okay, I’m going to weenie out and ask for prayers again. If anyone wants to, you can look at my little history of posts, which says why I ask for prayers.
I feel a bit weird in the head right now—I feel bad i missed church again this last Sunday—you’d think I’d GET IT by now, and just go to the Saturday vigil. My bro couldn’t take care of mom and dad again because he needed to “rest” —as he puts it (he is really mentally ill, and sleeps away for days) He was so angry (all a chemical problem) yesterday, he did not even want to help my mom out of her bed to go potty, but gave her the phone to call me. I pleaded a bit with her to tell him just to help her—and that he could jump back in the bed—at noon—and I would be there AFTER I ate. She said I needed to understand how he felt—I do—it’s just that I find it hard to believe he CAN’T help do something that would only take all of ten minutes—She just wanted to go to the potty and be helped to the other room to sit with my dad who thought she was dead. Yes he really did, and he was crying.
So I did not eat and went. I **will not **be rude to my mother or father, and show them my feelings of frustration. They are too ill----my dad is terminal with his fourth cancer and has dementia, and my mother is in so much pain with surgeries and osteoporosis, that it is insanity to try and communicate anything I really feel with her—I can only communicate love, and understanding, and compassion, and gentleness and joy----even if I don’t feel that. She used to be my confidante, my shoulder, but not anymore, and that is fair enough. She deserves the shoulder too. And I am kind to my brother, in a way my older sis doesn’t want to be and it confuses him to be touched in a gentle way, and asked if there is anything I can do for him. My sister hates him so much, she won’t even help my parents because of him.
I just don’t have much kindness left for my husband and family—I fall apart when i come home. My husband is my baby’s mother part-time, even if he has work to do, he does it with her on his lap—and I do take her daily to their house, but she is such a bucket of fusses, my head feels too full of it, I can’t deal with three people crying at me–help, get me this, take me here. My dad’s daredevil antics equal my 20 month child’s (okay everybody, let’s LAUGH!)—when one is trying to walk without assistance, the other is climbing on the television stand or playing with the hospitol bed controls. Or doing an acrobatic balancing act hanging from a walker.( edit: you figure WHO is doing WHAT----hahahah) God puts comedy in the STRANGEST places.
Pray my mom does not need another surgery. Pray I have some kindness for my husband and children— two teens and the little circus monkey that God dropped in our lives. Pray I can still see the comedy until the day i die. Because when I can’t laugh that is a bad sign.
Please forgive me again for the epic post.
I feel a bit weird in the head right now—I feel bad i missed church again this last Sunday—you’d think I’d GET IT by now, and just go to the Saturday vigil. My bro couldn’t take care of mom and dad again because he needed to “rest” —as he puts it (he is really mentally ill, and sleeps away for days) He was so angry (all a chemical problem) yesterday, he did not even want to help my mom out of her bed to go potty, but gave her the phone to call me. I pleaded a bit with her to tell him just to help her—and that he could jump back in the bed—at noon—and I would be there AFTER I ate. She said I needed to understand how he felt—I do—it’s just that I find it hard to believe he CAN’T help do something that would only take all of ten minutes—She just wanted to go to the potty and be helped to the other room to sit with my dad who thought she was dead. Yes he really did, and he was crying.
So I did not eat and went. I **will not **be rude to my mother or father, and show them my feelings of frustration. They are too ill----my dad is terminal with his fourth cancer and has dementia, and my mother is in so much pain with surgeries and osteoporosis, that it is insanity to try and communicate anything I really feel with her—I can only communicate love, and understanding, and compassion, and gentleness and joy----even if I don’t feel that. She used to be my confidante, my shoulder, but not anymore, and that is fair enough. She deserves the shoulder too. And I am kind to my brother, in a way my older sis doesn’t want to be and it confuses him to be touched in a gentle way, and asked if there is anything I can do for him. My sister hates him so much, she won’t even help my parents because of him.
I just don’t have much kindness left for my husband and family—I fall apart when i come home. My husband is my baby’s mother part-time, even if he has work to do, he does it with her on his lap—and I do take her daily to their house, but she is such a bucket of fusses, my head feels too full of it, I can’t deal with three people crying at me–help, get me this, take me here. My dad’s daredevil antics equal my 20 month child’s (okay everybody, let’s LAUGH!)—when one is trying to walk without assistance, the other is climbing on the television stand or playing with the hospitol bed controls. Or doing an acrobatic balancing act hanging from a walker.( edit: you figure WHO is doing WHAT----hahahah) God puts comedy in the STRANGEST places.
Pray my mom does not need another surgery. Pray I have some kindness for my husband and children— two teens and the little circus monkey that God dropped in our lives. Pray I can still see the comedy until the day i die. Because when I can’t laugh that is a bad sign.
Please forgive me again for the epic post.