urbandruid: (River)
I don't know how to say this. I've been trying to find the words for it maybe since Christmas, when I knew something was wrong. Or at least since New Years', when I learned what it was.

Around New Years' we found out that Grandpa can't stay in the apartment at the retirement home with Grandma anymore, that he's slipped too far. We started making plans to move him into the Alzheimer's assisted living unit. Had a meeting there with the social worker who runs it, even my aunt and uncle drove down for it. It's a nice place, a very nice place actually, as these things go. I think Grandpa will be safe there, and maybe, someday, he might be happy there. It's the best we can hope for, and I'm so thankful my grandparents have the money to afford this kind of care.

But a part of me hates everything about this. Sure, I knew it was coming, someday, but actually facing it is something else. Especially when Grandpa doesn't want to go. He's still with it enough to understand on some level that he has to go there, to live, and he doesn't want to go. And it breaks my heart. It's breaking everybody's heart.

And tomorrow his room is finally ready. Grandma moved some stuff down last night, nothing heavy I hope, because hell, that's all we need, for her to throw her back out or something. Tomorrow, Mom and my uncle John, and I, are helping them move furniture and whatnot.

I'm dreading it. I'm dreading the reality of it, of moving my grandfather into a place he has to be, and leaving him there. Dreading leaving him behind a door you need a code to get in and out of. I'm afraid he'll be upset, that he'll forget or not understand why he has to stay there, and why we can't. I'm afraid I will lose it and start crying, and he won't understand why. Or, maybe worse, that he will.

And because I can't have just a family crisis, I have my own. I'm a lot better from the cold from hell I've had, but I'm still coughing. Mom is pretty bad with it still. (Mom also has hypothyroidism and pre-diabetes, which we're also trying to cope with.) And me? I'm severely, deeply depressed. I have a C in Behavioral Stats that I'm struggling and maybe going to fail to keep. (I also have a test today that I kinda sorta partway understand the material for.) I'm also sucking at ballet, and too tired/depressed/whatever to practice like I should.

It looks so simple written out there like that. I am profoundly depressed. But those words encompass my whole world, sometimes. The part where I have to struggle to get out of bed. The part where I wonder why the hell I should bother. The part where I drag myself through classes, and homework, hours spent in the library killing time, when sometimes I'm not doing my homework, even though I should, because I just can't. I open the book, pull out my pencil and paper and calculator, and then I just stare at them. Sometimes I take a stab at some problems, sometimes not.

If I can't do the work, I can't pass this class. I try not to think about that too hard.

I have good days, relatively speaking, days when I almost feel normal. I can tell that today's not going to be one of them.

It's going to rain. Probably a lot. And I have to take the bus home. The bus, which has been an hour late far more often than it's been on time this semester. But I have to go. I have a test to take, then an hour of class to try and get through. And hope I understand.

And tomorrow... Mom's taking me to my ballet class at the college, then- I can't even remember if she's going over to the folks' after she drops me off or not. Probably we're not going till I'm out of class. Dunno, I'll ask her I guess. Anyway, I'm dreading that, and then I feel guilty for dreading it.

Oh, and did I forget to mention we're all worried as hell about Grandma, too? Because she's been forgetful and spacey for a while now. Too. She's always been a bit of a flake, but lately it's gotten really bad. We're all hoping she'll be better once she's not Grandpa's 24/7 caretaker anymore. We're hoping. Because if not...

Mom and I joke about a couple's suite at the Alzheimer's unit. But it may actually not be that funny, except in the black humor sort of way that we have. And that scares the hell out of me, too.

Meanwhile, I get to drag myself to school and take my exam, like everything is normal in my life. I don't even know what that word means anymore, and probably wouldn't recognize normal if it bit me.

So, yeah. All my weeks have been hard lately, one way or another, but this one... This one's gonna be really, really hard.
urbandruid: (Jaina / Invisible Girl)
So, the depression is totally kicking my ass. I don't know why that's so hard to admit, but it is. I feel like I'm doing the best I can, but mostly what I do is a whole lot of nothing. I'm slacking on everything, not because I want to, but because I somehow just can't do anything more than I am right now. Most of my energy is going to dragging myself to school the two days a week I have class, trying to pay attention, acting like I have a hope in hell of passing Stats, which I really don't think that I do. I have about a month of school left, and I just wish it was over. I feel like I really don't care if I pass or not, I just don't want to have to deal with this anymore.

My birthday is Sunday. I'm finding it hard to care.

I'll get through all this. I know that. I'll be better, eventually. It's just hard pulling myself through it, you know? Or trying to pull myself through it. But I figure, as long as I'm not catatonic, as long as I'm physically able to drag my ass out of bed in the morning and do what I have to do, then that's what I'm gonna do.

I'm tired all the time, though. Half the time I can't get to sleep at all, then when I do, I sleep for hours and it doesn't do any good. I think I seriously slept half of last weekend. Still feel like crap.

Still have to go to class tomorrow, and take a test Thursday. *sigh*

And my family- *facepalm* Grandpa's surgery got rescheduled for last Thursday, only Grandma kinda forgot to tell Mom that. She did call her, though, when he was out of surgery. I'm sure you can imagine how she felt about that one. So, Grandpa's home and kinda doing better now, except we have to wait for the results of some biopsies to come back. Mom's heading over to see them after she gets off work tonight, so maybe she'll have some news when she gets back.

It's not that the way things are going surprises me, exactly- I remember how it was with Great-Grandpa, and I know where we're headed, but it's getting hard. Harder, I should say, 'cause it's never been easy. Seeing what the Alzheimer's is doing to Grandpa... Sometimes, almost more often than not lately, I don't know who he is. He's still with it enough to ask me how school is going, which is about all we ever talked about anyway, but- Hell, this is a depressing subject, and it bothers me even when I'm not already depressed.

I don't know if it's just me, as messed up as I've been feeling lately, but I feel like we're waiting for the other shoe to drop. 'Course, I've been feeling that way for years, ever since Grandpa was diagnosed, really. So who the fuck knows? I try not to think about it a lot, which sucks as a coping strategy, but sometimes it's all I've got.

Life in general needs to stop sucking now. Really.
urbandruid: (River)
Gah. Like I was just telling [livejournal.com profile] ashkitty, I'm not in a good headspace lately. Am also in pain, which makes me bitchy. My shoulder's been killing me all day, and a little after I took something for that, I started to get a migraine. Which has proceeded to get worse and worse all freaking day. So I took the other half of the pain pill I took earlier. The doc didn't give me anything but anti-inflmmatories (semi-useless) for my shoulder, so I've been popping left over pain meds from my kidney stone adventures. Which I am just about out of now.

So. Called the doc's office today and talked to one of the nurses who knows me, about asking the NP for some real pain meds. NP is out today, naturally, but she said she'd talk to the MD. She said she should get back to me this afternoon, tomorrow at the latest, but with it being the first Monday after a holiday weekend... Mom's stopping at the pharmacy we use on her way home anyway, so I'm hoping the doc's office had time to call something in, but either didn't have time to call me back yet, or the pharmacy told them I have refills there, so one of us will be in today anyway... This is probably a far-fetched hope, but I'm hanging onto it, coasting along on my second-to-last Vicodin.

Please, gods, please, let there be something. I can put up with a lot, but this pain is just wearing me down. I'm not even the same person when I hurt this much. I also can't get much of anything done.

I keep wanting to- intending to- go on YIM, which is where I think my pals like [livejournal.com profile] leviathanmuse, [livejournal.com profile] g_shadowslayer, and [livejournal.com profile] irreparable hang out. And then I realize that I'm exhausted, and I just hurt too damned much, and that after not chatting with my friends for a while, dumping "evil, pain-suffering, bitchy [livejournal.com profile] urbandruid" on them is not fair. Or nice.

Would you guys mind stoned druid, though? 'Cause I think that's what we're looking at for a while here.

This year has just been insane, and just when it seems like things might calm down, something else crops up. Either I'm having medical issues, or someone else in the family is, or there's other stress-y stuff going on, and I just... Gah. I need a break.

Between the days I don't have classes and the holiday, I had a week straight off of school. It was great. And I'm dreading going back. More than the usual complaints I make all the time about not wanting to go back, I'm... worried about going back. Because school = more stress. As always. And this shit with my shoulder is wearing on me mentally. I'm starting to wonder how much more of this I can take.

Then I break down and sob for a while, and after a bit I feel slightly more able to cope with things.

I've thought about calling my shrink, but honestly, what's she gonna tell me? I'm stressed and that's making my depression worse, I'm hurting a lot and that isn't helping the depression or my mood in general? I'm worrying about everything, even stuff that isn't actually mine, because this is what I do? She can't tell me anything I don't already know. Plus, I haven't seen her in at least a year; updating her on everything would take a couple sessions, and right now I don't have time in my schedule for that.

And these may or may not all be excuses for not going in to see her, but... I probably will call her if I end up needing surgery for my shoulder, because that one, I'm gonna need some help coping with.

Oh yeah, and I have homework. World War II map assignment for history that's due tomorrow, and possibly a test in my psych class. Should probably check my syllabus re: the exam and see. Not that I'm worried about it. We've been covering the psych disorders this unit. *yawn*
urbandruid: (Default)
Tired. Long week. Bad mood. Need to gripe a bit, feel free to ignore.

Dear Star Wars Insider,
I want my magazine. I can't believe it took you three days to tell me that "our records indicate your subscription expired in July/August 2006." Also, WTF? Logging into the site, I see "your subscription is good through July 9, 2007", and I can still see the members-only content. Sent you a polite email reply just now, but just so we're clear? What I really meant was "You are smoking crack."

Not much love at this time, (and I still want my damn magazine)
Me

Dear local news,
Do you really have to be so stupid all the time? Learn to pronounce the big words correctly, and do try to remember that the county fair is not the biggest news on the whole planet. For some reason it bugs me when you lead with the fair crap, and how you're broadcasting from there (yay, you) and then go on to the minor stuff like the drive-by shootings and such. Morons...

No love.
Me.

Dear keyboard,
Damnit, I was just popping off your keys to clean you, did one of them really have to break? And I think it's really broken this time, those little plastic bits aren't supposed to snap off the keyboard under the keys, are they? Fuck...

Not sure what I'm gonna do about this one,
Me.

Depression,
Yeah, no dear for you. I don't have time for you right now, I have too much work to do. Go the fuck away. I am working on you in my (ha, ha) spare time, but you're not the center of attention. Get over it. And did I mention the "fuck off" part? If I can't get this pile of homework done by Friday, I know who to blame.
Bite me.
Chris

Okay. I sort of feel better now. Time to go start digging into the homework, whee...

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