Don’t Give Up

Another fall and back in hospital. It feels like we are on a roundabout and it’s not slowing down.
I hold on firmly to those little pieces of time I have carved out for myself that keep me happy and sane in amongst the chaos.
Needing to find that positivity that keeps me up. I’m of more use to others if I’m not on the floor with them.
I’m glad my girl isn’t here to feel any of this.
It feels like the vice is tightening a little more each week.
He doesn’t care any more and P knows it.
Every effort he is trying to make to improve things falls on ears that don’t want to listen.
A lack of outside support due to covid restrictions create even more pressures. Blood levels that are constantly out of control due to lack of self care.
Perhaps if the diabetic terminal cancer patient secretly eats enough McDonald’s when noone is watching, he will speed up his own death. Like watching a self imposed Big Mac suicide in slow motion.
If I’m finding it all difficult and heart breaking I have no idea what it must be doing to P. He doesn’t say but his appearance tells the story.
I know he is completely stressed out and exhausted. Trying to keep going but he’s had enough. Unable as ever to really show any emotions so instead swearing about everything little thing.
It’s draining to be around.
I don’t even try to respond. I just quietly listen.
No point even in offering that empathic , “that must feel hard “.
It would sound like a piss take. Of course it’s fucking hard.
He is watching his dad die a very slow and debilitating death, and being ripped apart by the fact that he is unable to do anything to help.
He just has to watch it play out whilst trying to make a difference and being looked at by others like he’s not doing anything.
Why does that scenario feel so familiar to me.
What words of consolation should I offer?
There are none.
You just feel completely trapped and alone in it. Like being in a prison that you can’t escape from. In fact eventually you give up trying to escape. Accepting your fate until perhaps fate might smile again on you more kindly.
I find it better to offer hugs and reassuring smiles as I continue to watch him fall apart before my eyes. Some old football injury flaring up and now struggling to walk.
A lack of care in himself meaning that he also is struggling.
I find myself fearful of what might happen but trying not to let that fear linger.
In all my moments of carefree I am feeling duty’s voice talking to me telling me what I need to do.
It makes me want to distance myself from positivity but my voice of hope is not giving up.
A self preservation that says take one day at a time and find those little moments of happiness like you are doing.
Maybe eventually I will have some real choices again but in the meantime I know I’m making the very best of where I’m currently at, and trying to be the best version of who I am, and that makes me feel proud and happy.

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