Resentment. That's the word that continues to dominate my thoughts. And I try, I try so hard not to feel it, think it, live it. But it gets harder and harder not to. Because it's there. It's always there. I can't ignore it anymore.
I'm trying to establish a life for myself. I keep trying and I keep failing. Part of it is my own fault for being unable to secure a job after 11 years out of the workplace. I waited too long. I have no one to blame for that but me. I tell myself that it will happen, that I need to be patient. Not only with finding a job but with my heart's desire too. And then it feels like it will never happen. Circumstances get in my way constantly.
Just today I was taking a shower and a very strong desire to run away from home overtook me. And I actually started to contemplate it. To plan for it. I started to tie up a few loose ends so that I can go, just go and not have them hanging over my head... an oil change, a haircut, a candy order that I needed to fill. Get them done and then go... go somewhere, anywhere but here. It'll hurt him, the man, but thinking of that stopping me adds to the resentment. Do I always have to do what is best for everyone else, but me? When do I take care of me? What do I do for myself that gives me joy or happiness? The answer to that is that I occasionally get a new tattoo. That brings me joy, happiness and it's all for me. Other than that, my existence seems to be to fulfill other people's needs. And that leads to more resentment.
So I dreamed of getting away, running away. Not forever, but long enough to clear my head and decide what I really want and where I want to be. Enough time to stop feeling so much resentment towards so many.
The man... always trying not to harm him, not hurt or upset him. So much like my mother in that regard it pisses me off. Repeating history all the while telling her to stop doing that but not listening to my own words. Existing to make his dinner because I feel like I have no other purpose.
My mother... whenever I make plans, plans of any kind whether they be to go away for a weekend or spend a day to myself either job hunting, writing, reading or just taking care of me, she needs something and I go. And I resent it. I resent that there are so many things she can't seem to do for herself. I resent that I am the only one she can call who will always go and help. I resent that I have little to no help when it comes to her or my father.
My father... probably the neediest of a all. He is not well and continues to go downhill. He refuses to do anything for himself. Just flat out refuses. He no longer wants to walk (he has a prosthetic leg and can walk with the aid of a walker) so insists on using the wheelchair. But he also refuses to push himself once he's in it. He wants whoever is there to push him while he sits back and does nothing. This week he was admitted to the hospital, again, for congestive heart failure. This has been going on since before Thanksgiving, but he never would say what was bothering him. He had a stomach ache, that's all he would say. He'd been to the doctor a few times, and that was all he would tell them too so they prescribe antacids and things like that. No one caught that he had a ton of water sitting in his lungs for months. Yesterday the doctor took a needle and drained his lung of a liter and a half of liquid. And today they sent him home. He's not well. He's unable to walk and he seems kind of spacey. Maybe he's had another stroke, I don't know. But my 4 ft 11 mother cannot take care of a 6 ft 2 father who cannot walk or do anything for himself anymore.
My siblings... I can hear in my siblings voices that I should go there and stay with them to help out, even though they don't come out and say it. Because if they do, they will be on the business end of a big fat "fuck you, you do it!" One lives in FL, one lives in AL and one lives here. I resent that two moved a way and the third is planning his move with his family within two years, which will leave me here holding the bag completely with our parents. Not that I get much help from him now, but I get some and some is better than none.
I resent that everyone can live their lives but me. I resent myself for feeling this way. I resent myself for seemingly doing the right things for everyone but myself. I resent myself for feeling selfish because of these feelings. I resent myself for letting my life take a back seat to everyone and watching life pass me by. I resent that there is no end in sight to any of this.