Family....

 Dear Fishes-

       I love how families work sometimes, with a heavy sarcastic tone. Some families work together, some play well, while others implode when something arises. I don't know about you, but my family is a lot like the latter. I've taken care of my ailing parents for 10 or so years by myself without much help from my siblings. I've done a lot of things that most kids will just turn their parents over to the nursing home to do, but I did it because I thought it was my duty to do such. I THOUGHT, nay I was expected, to be a caregiver, to my parents because that's what I watched them do with my father's mom when she became stricken with Alzheimer's disease. 

      I was thought of as the spinster at the time because I hadn't gotten married by my religious culture's usual preference of when to get married, which is in your late teens, or early twenties. Plus I have M.S. and who would want me, with that? Or so that is what I led myself to believe until six months ago when I fell in love with the love of my life. Dealing with M.S. for twenty-four years hasn't been pretty or fun and it has done a lot to my mental status. I love it when others who've never experienced a serious chronic illness try to give advice to you about how you should portray yourself. I usually just want to slap them as they're speaking from a place that they have no business speaking from because they've never experienced some of the hells I've had to deal with nor do they take the time. 

      When my grandmother (mammaw) got sick with Alzheimer's disease, my family took her in and we took care of her, even though we probably should have put her in a nursing home. She did some hilarious things while with us, she tried to kill me twice--once with a large kitchen knife and a plastic bag, and she made us crazy with all of her wants about how life should be. I remember our family taking her to church with us and her farting and burping during church with little comments such as, "Oh, I have gas." It was mortifying as a teenager to deal with her at times. 

       On one occasion, she went outside our house and stood around the front porch and waited for people to run by so that she could flag them down and ask them if they would take her on a walk because she would tell people that she wasn't allowed to go on a walk by herself because she might forget. There are many stories of my grandmother that are quite cheeky and I plan to write about them in a book, later on. 

         Family is supposed to be there for others; that's what family is about, or so that's what I thought anyways. I didn't receive help and things got out of hand on numerous occasions. When I did ask for help, I was told "No" to which I just stopped asking because it became pointless to ask for help. Then things happen now when my mom is in a predicament with health and now after 10-11 years, I have one of my siblings step up to help and then accuse me of never asking. The gas lighting was next level. I asked on many occasions for help without getting any and the individual in question acted as if I had never asked for help when in reality it was many times that I begged, pleaded, and asked for help without any. 

           I helped take care of my father when he had Parkinson's Disease and Dementia and that was terrifying. I helped my mom take care of him at home for three years and I almost lost my marbles. It wasn't until he pulled his latest stunt that we had to put him in a nursing home and there he caused quite a ruckus as well. I remember that my body was so burnt out from caregiving that I had to start catheterizing (because of having a neurogenic bladder from the M.S.), which was fun...said no one ever. My mom's physical health went down at that time and it was a godsend when he was finally put into a nursing home. He eventually died in a nursing home and I barely cried--mainly because I had cried so many times before when things got crazy. When his dog, Snowball died, I cried my eyeballs out--I think it was because I loved the dog and I was grieving for a father that passed at the age of 71 that I had a tumultuous relationship with. 

         I'm just frustrated at how things have happened and how things have evolved in this last little while. I love my family; I'm just disappointed that after 10-11 years of taking care of my parents that then some family wants to step up and help. Any help is good help though. I relinquish my role as caregiver. It's about damn time. I'll let them have a taste of what it feels like. I also love how a siblings' therapist gives so much advice that it's surprising that the said party can function without said therapist. I think said individual has their therapist on speed dial. Good for them. I guess the biggest thing is that I'm tired of is gaslighting from others in my family. I hope your family life isn't as complicated, but if it is, you'll get through it. 

See ya in the sea anemone, 

 B.