Hospice care has taken on her case. They go to the nursing home she's in and spend time with her, do extensive pain management, and are doing all they can to make her time as less painful and difficult as possible. They bring in their own nurses and social workers for her. They've been so kind to me and I can tell they truly care. I'm glad they're looking after her.
I've been...spiraling. Some days I'm okay, I can handle this, I can survive this and grow. Other days I have to list reasons to not end things. Some days I think I need to be locked away for my own safety. Others I think, when it happens, the relief will overshadow the pain. I don't know.
I'm oddly impressed with myself. Like, I haven't hidden from this shit by cutting, drinking, pills, dating, or sex. But I have been smoking weed. Honestly, the only reason I've survived a few days this past week is weed. It calms me down and stops the panic attacks and overwhelming depression. So I guess I am still self-medicating. Maybe seeing it as an improvement is short-sighted. Who knows. I get through the days and that's the best I can do.
I'm not taking the greatest care of myself. Not eating, isolating, etc. And, for some random reason, it occurred to me that I haven't been taking all the vitamins I should. After weight loss surgery you're supposed to be vigilant with your vitamins and I failed. I take some but not all. And haven't in...two years? So that can't be helping the way I feel physically. So I made a list. And even though they're expensive and I can't really afford it, I'm going to buy them. And take them. It's small but it's something.
When my mom dies, I really will only have myself to live for, to grow for, to succeed for. I hope I can believe I'm worth it.