This month has been bad. Like, suicidal thoughts bad. And no, I'm not just saying that to be dramatic or in a beg for sympathy and I hope you see that by reading this post.
Where do I begin.
Let's start with the smallest piece of news and move on to the worst.
Some of you may know that I kind of started seeing someone. Nothing serious, just a few dates, getting to know each other and really just hanging out.
Perhaps I should preface what I'm about to say with the fact that I have seriously bad trust issues. I automatically assume I'm being used for sex or being laughed at and used as the butt end of a joke. Maybe you knew this by my utter refusal to even go on a date with anyone and my outspoken abstinence and "asexuality".
Yes, I suffer from a very low libido. Both my therapist and I believe this to be a lack of trust in anyone.
So now is when I hope you understand how big of a deal it was for me to agree to even one date, let alone 5 with the same guy.
And now I drop the ball and tell you that I did that dumb thing of trusting and letting myself have feelings.
I know, there shouldn't be any problem with that, I got the signal that he was interested in me as an individual and opened up. When I told him I think I have feelings for him, he was flustered and decided to tell me, via Snapchat the next day that he isn't looking for a relationship or anything.
Again, should be a non-issue.
But it stung like a bitch.
That very same day! I get a knock on my bedroom door from my housemate letting me know that I have someone wanting to see me. I don't know how much I can or cannot say about this particular visit but the nature of it was negative.
As I read over some paperwork that, again, I can't divulge much about, I discover that something I thought was completely done and dusted is being kept alive in what I can only believe to be spite or hatred as I have moved on from the initial issue and worked to build my own business and succeed in my education pursuits.
Some of this issue I am left waiting to hear more regarding, the larger portion I am having to disrupt my life and schedule to deal with.
It may be hard to tell from the vagueness that is me trying to stay somewhat private regarding this matter, but it's incredibly stressful and has been for years now.
And lastly, the day after these 2 matters left me emotionally crippled, I get a call from my dad.
My mother admitted herself to a detox facility on approximately the 31st of January. My brother had informed my dad on the 6th of February that the hospital had called him to request permission to keep her against her will to continue treatment on other ongoing health concerns.
MY YOUNGER BROTHER HAD TO MAKE THE DECISION FROM ANOTHER STATE WHETHER OR NOT HE SHOULD LET A HOSPITAL KEEP HIS MOTHER BECAUSE OF HER OVERALL POOR HEALTH.
I'm sorry, can you imagine being 18 years old, enrolling in university, living in shared accommodation and paying rent for the first time in your life, finally having adult responsibilities like paying bills, buying groceries and waking yourself up for work each morning while juggling the red tape and paperwork necessary to apply for a student loan as your mother neglected to ensure you were prepared for legal paperwork like this, only to be called and tasked with signing away your mother's right to discharge from what everyone thought would be a simple 7 day detox?
Imagine having not seen your mother for a month, and having a hospital tell you she's too sick to look after herself.
Needless to say when my father let me know that my poor baby brother had to make the decision to sign her rights away essentially, I was in tears.
Once we found out which hospital she was in I was on 3 busses to go see her.
When I got there she had been 30mins in the hospital, had a feeding tube, couldn't talk, couldn't stand or walk and was talking about things that made no sense.
I tried to get as much information as I could from my mother, only to realise her sense of reality was incredibly warped and she wasn't allowed any food or water as she would aspirate (it would end up in her lungs and she would choke/drown/cough it up).
The nurses were short with me because my mother was (is) rather taxing and they had little information on why she was there either.
I requested to be placed as next of kin, so as to avoid my brother being burdened with any more hospital calls, and had my details placed on my mother's file.
A few days later my brother messages me to let me know they called him to ask permission to perform an MRI on my mother's potentially damaged brain.
Again, I go storming up to the hospital to request my brother stop being called and to have myself as the next of kin. While I'm there I try speaking with my mum.
According to her she had been grocery shopping and needed me to help put groceries in the fridge. She offered one of the nurses butter because apparently she had bought 2. She also spoke about my brother and her going for burgers in the city.
My mother was hallucinating and had an even worse grip on reality.
On Friday my aunt and I decided to see if we could speak with my mother's doctor (my aunt just so happens to be a nurse at the hospital my mother is in and was working on Friday). I finally got to see everything the hospital was doing for my mum and hear some results from all the testing they have put her through.
Her brain is fine (ish).
Her ability to eat is coming back.
An infection caused the confusion.
She isn't on diazepam anymore and is completely sober.
She is malnourished and being filled with vitamins and minerals.
She still can't walk but it will come back with physiotherapy and rehabilitation.
She will be in hospital for as long as it takes for her to be infection free, self feeding and a healthy weight. Then she will go to physical rehabilitation to build strength and functional movements.
Upon such a time as this checklist is complete, her discharge will be reassessed and I should have my mum back.
Then she is my responsibility.
I can't tell whether I'll move in with her or not. I can't tell whether she'll stay sober or not. I can't tell whether she'll ever be the same again. I can't tell whether she'll need/accept my help.
I can only be hopeful, and as long as she's in the hospital I still have my own mental health to be concerned about as well as the other things mentioned in this post.
To anyone who read this whole post, my love and gratitude for your patience and understanding. I kinda hope you're not too empathetic because this hurts and I don't want anyone to feel the pain I'm tasked with.