I'm writing again, because I'm miserable. And, misery loves writing. So, let me go over why I'm miserable, and maybe that will be of interest to someone. Most of my family is dead, I'm bipolar, I'm 70lbs overweight, and well that's it for now.
Most of my family being dead is a big problem for me. It is the fact that they are gone that is the worst. But, how they died may be even worse. My mom had lung cancer that went to her brain. She became confused, incontinent, and died slowly in hospice. My dad would have the tv blaring right in front of her as she lay there motionless, unable to speak. She passed away March 4th, 2011.
After her death, my dad decided to stop taking his lithium for his bipolar disorder. He then had a psychotic break and was running around pissing off every last dime he had. He did this while I was trying to finish my undergraduate education too back in 2001. That is for another post however. After everything was ruined again, and I had ended up in the psychiatric hospital myself, I was able to move him to San Diego. So far the time line is, Mom dies in March 2011, dad begins psychotic break November 2011, psychotic break kinda ends October 2012. Though he was still doing and saying crazy shit.
About two months after moving my father to San Diego, he goes into the hospital to fix his stoma, as he had had colon cancer in 2008 and now had a colostomy. Something went wrong during the surgery, and he slowly got worse and worse until he was on multiple levels of life support in January of 2013. But before I took him off life support, my aunt Sherry dropped dead on January 5th of that year. She had a horrible drinking problem and was suffering from delerium tremens when she had a massive heart attack.
Taking my dad off life support was ridiculously difficult. What people don't understand is that when someone is on life support, their eyes might still be open, they might still be able to understand you. However, their condition might be irreparable and they may be completely miserable. So, with the support of Tammy my estranged adopted step-sister, my husband, and the doctors, I decided that it was the best thing to do. But, part of me still feels like I killed him.
And then I'm bipolar and fat. I'll get into those two lovelies later.
