Time off is dangerous
As with my career in catering, now a long time ago, caring is a full-on thing to do. You are basically on-call 24 hours a day, for a person who if they are human, will not appreciate what you have had to give up for them all the time, and who does not rate you much higher than a vacuum cleaner, if they even remember what that is.
My mother’s time in hospital this time has been very different. Nobody is interested in her medical background, they apparently believe that she went from fully functional to late stage dementia in one giant step, and even as I try to inform them of the background information they need, they continue to tell me that I do not matter.
Now the I don’t matter thing is normal. My mother has told me many times that I do not matter. The department that tried to take her house told me that I do not matter, my siblings have been at great pains to declare that I do not matter, and the inadequate males that I have wasted my life on have all decided that I do not matter after many months of being assured that they do. The I don’t matter thing is a central theme in my life.
It is one thing to be strong and generous enough to discard this and carry on regardless, and it is another when your health is starting to fail because you too have decided that you do not matter. Every time you allow your friend to stand in your kitchen and tell you that you are selfish for wanting to eat properly and therefore do not want crap food in your house etc out of politeness you too are agreeing that you do not matter.
There is only one problem with all of this. I do matter. Without me, my mother would have been dead years ago, the house and money would have been gone, nobody would have maintained or looked after anything, and my lengthy queue of guys that could not be bothered thinking for themselves would be in an even worse state than they are already. My siblings and a few of my exs would all have a criminal record and my cats would be split up and rehomed elsewhere. If I decide that I matter, then everything falls apart for pretty much everyone around me.
Now it is the hospital that are deciding what my mother needs, based on no knowledge of her at all apart from recent testing, and they are telling me that I do not matter. I am supposed to meekly agree to having the house invaded by strangers several times a day and allow access to my lunatic sisters, who will use this opportunity to have me under continual investigation for whatever deranged garbage they trump up this time.
I am now seriously considering refusing to participate in any of this, which means that my mother would have to be put into care, my siblings could take their bullshit somewhere else, and I do not have to wake up petrified every day, looking for other things (like Wolfe) to care about rather than address any of this.
I am tired of people so full of shit that they cannot spare the two minutes of flexibility to consider what they are putting other people through. Inflexibility is a strong marker of poor health and aging. These people apparently need rings through their noses, so they can be led by some patient person to stare at the blisteringly obvious and be told what to think, because apparently they cannot manage it.
The continuing situation has been killing me for some time, it killed my son, which upsets me every day, and I do not think any of these people deserved anything like the quality of care that they got. Wolfe is a cheap scumbag, my exs mostly took advantage, my mother was a cruel, irrational and unfeeling woman who watched me weep day after day and refused to address the issues with the family she seems to think she did not need to parent. At no point has anyone considered what I have been put through.
My goodwill has run out. I doubt it ran out fast enough for my health.