My anger at times overwhelms me. And right now it is. My anger at being the one who has to field 5 am phone calls and go to the hospital. Does that sound selfish? Because it feels selfish. Does it sound ungrateful? Because it feels ungrateful. My anger grows as my dad's health, which is poor and will only get worse as his and my mom's need to have me do anything and everything I can for them grows. I feel like shit for being angry. I feel guilty. But the anger grows. I can't stop it. And I shut down because I know if I don't my anger will explode forth and unleash a lot that can never be taken back. Things like, "if you had listened to the doctors and followed their instructions, some of this wouldn't be happening!" Things like, "I can't be everywhere and I can't be everything to everyone." Things like, "Call someone else next time, I'm trying to live a life here too ya know?" And the sheer fact that these things are in my head sends me though massive cycles of guilt.
In one moment I think that I should just suck it up and deal because the alternative is so much worse. And then I think, is it? Is it really worse? I'm not saying I want my dad to die. But he is going to, eventually. One of these times when he is taken to the hospital yet again, it's going to be the last time. Isn't it better to just close your eyes and not wake up than to continue this game of what the hell can go wrong next? Guilt. Selfish. I'm the worst person, the worst daughter in the world because I do think these things. And I don't think them because he was never there for me, ever my whole life. I don't think them because we had no relationship at all until I was in my 30's. I don't think them because he spent my childhood drunk and never spoke to me at all. I think them because I'm angry.
I'm so fucking angry. And I'm tired. I never thought I would be this tired in my life. But sleep doesn't come. Guilt eats away at me and I lie awake and let it consume me. Guilt for these feelings, guilt for other feelings, guilt because I want to leave. I want to run away. Start fresh. Have a new life. I want it. I can taste it. And I'm trapped by my guilt. I'm stuck in place. All I can do is dream and wish. Wish I was anywhere but here. Wish I had the guts to leave it all behind. Wish I had the drive and means to make my own wishes come true. Instead, I'm here. Angry. Tired. Tearful.