uglyugly
Student
- Aug 24, 2024
- 164
My dad is in his mid-80s and I am a caregiver. He has dementia. The man is losing his mind and his personality is really awful now. Yesterday I got a real education on why I'm going to take myself off this planet long before I'm that age.
He's in an old folks home and that place is the seventh circle of hell. I would much rather die than wind up there. There is NOTHING pleasant about being in an old folks home. It has to be one of the shittiest places on the planet and that's even if it is a 5 star place. Yesterday he wanted to go to dinner at the dining room there, but got pissed off waiting to be seated, so we left. Even though I was dizzy from not eating, I was glad we left. All around were old people with their walkers, canes, hunched over, barely walking, and talking about their fucking health problems. They are rude, talk over each other and shout because half of them can't hear. Some of them were not home mentally. Some had attitudes. Some, like my dad, have dementia. Some can barely function. There is nothing more annoying then a room full of old people because all they do is complain about their health and shout.
And fuck that. I don't want to live to be that age. My whole life would be about doctors and drugs and other old people who can't and won't shut up about their aches and pains. Or worse, to be so old and incompetent that I need someone else to wipe my ass. NOT going to happen. Fuck all of that. At the point I am in too much pain, start to lose my mind (will I even know?), can't walk without a rollator, and have nothing to think about except my physical problems, I absolutely want to die. It pisses me off to no end that people who are in real pain can't legally end their lives in this country.
I was pissed off, weak, hungry as hell and tired. I had been waiting on that meal and had not eaten since morning. He would not leave the building to eat dinner anywhere else, so that meant he ate at home, but I had nothing. I am so fucking sick and tried of being too broke to buy basic food. I am so tired of being hungry. I don't just want but NEED real food at this point. Not shit from a dumpster or a box mix... REAL FOOD. That's another rant for another day.
Anyhow, then after his dinner, he kept wanting me to stay and do this and do that. He wanted to talk about a DNR (do not resuscitate order). He could not understand a 1 page form. I explained his two options over and over and over and over. I went to 3 different websites and read their verbiage to explain it. He still didn't get it. I started drinking alcohol out of frustration (at least he had that) and to calm myself down because I was going to blow a head gasket. I finally said let the damn doctor explain it because clearly I'm too incompetent to explain it properly. He got upset because I washed the dishes - which were absolutely disgusting, unsanitary and had clearly been there for days. But because I did that, the clean dishes were exactly where he sets his fucking ice cream bowl down.... never mind that there is an entire counter he could have used. No gratitude at all for trying to help him clean that goddamn, unsanitary pig sty up. He needs to hire someone because I have had it. Let them make 40 goddamn dollars an hour to be treated like you can't do a fucking thing right. But, that may be hard when he's pissing his money away on political donations and my drug/gambling/alcoholic sibling. You can treat me like shit or pay me like shit, but not both... and he isn't paying me.
He has lost it to the point that my need to eat was a non-issue for him. THAT is dementia talking. Before that took over his mind, he could have seen that I needed dinner, even if that meant discussing the DNR another day. I finally got home around 9 and was so depressed I knew if I had a gun within reach, I would have blown my head off right then and there. .I am NOT living, I am existing. My relationship with him is shit, my job is shit, and I'm fucking broke, depressed, exhausted and just DONE. I do not want to live like this another day!
But I do have an interview this week. Wish me luck. I need out of this hell.
He's in an old folks home and that place is the seventh circle of hell. I would much rather die than wind up there. There is NOTHING pleasant about being in an old folks home. It has to be one of the shittiest places on the planet and that's even if it is a 5 star place. Yesterday he wanted to go to dinner at the dining room there, but got pissed off waiting to be seated, so we left. Even though I was dizzy from not eating, I was glad we left. All around were old people with their walkers, canes, hunched over, barely walking, and talking about their fucking health problems. They are rude, talk over each other and shout because half of them can't hear. Some of them were not home mentally. Some had attitudes. Some, like my dad, have dementia. Some can barely function. There is nothing more annoying then a room full of old people because all they do is complain about their health and shout.
And fuck that. I don't want to live to be that age. My whole life would be about doctors and drugs and other old people who can't and won't shut up about their aches and pains. Or worse, to be so old and incompetent that I need someone else to wipe my ass. NOT going to happen. Fuck all of that. At the point I am in too much pain, start to lose my mind (will I even know?), can't walk without a rollator, and have nothing to think about except my physical problems, I absolutely want to die. It pisses me off to no end that people who are in real pain can't legally end their lives in this country.
I was pissed off, weak, hungry as hell and tired. I had been waiting on that meal and had not eaten since morning. He would not leave the building to eat dinner anywhere else, so that meant he ate at home, but I had nothing. I am so fucking sick and tried of being too broke to buy basic food. I am so tired of being hungry. I don't just want but NEED real food at this point. Not shit from a dumpster or a box mix... REAL FOOD. That's another rant for another day.
Anyhow, then after his dinner, he kept wanting me to stay and do this and do that. He wanted to talk about a DNR (do not resuscitate order). He could not understand a 1 page form. I explained his two options over and over and over and over. I went to 3 different websites and read their verbiage to explain it. He still didn't get it. I started drinking alcohol out of frustration (at least he had that) and to calm myself down because I was going to blow a head gasket. I finally said let the damn doctor explain it because clearly I'm too incompetent to explain it properly. He got upset because I washed the dishes - which were absolutely disgusting, unsanitary and had clearly been there for days. But because I did that, the clean dishes were exactly where he sets his fucking ice cream bowl down.... never mind that there is an entire counter he could have used. No gratitude at all for trying to help him clean that goddamn, unsanitary pig sty up. He needs to hire someone because I have had it. Let them make 40 goddamn dollars an hour to be treated like you can't do a fucking thing right. But, that may be hard when he's pissing his money away on political donations and my drug/gambling/alcoholic sibling. You can treat me like shit or pay me like shit, but not both... and he isn't paying me.
He has lost it to the point that my need to eat was a non-issue for him. THAT is dementia talking. Before that took over his mind, he could have seen that I needed dinner, even if that meant discussing the DNR another day. I finally got home around 9 and was so depressed I knew if I had a gun within reach, I would have blown my head off right then and there. .I am NOT living, I am existing. My relationship with him is shit, my job is shit, and I'm fucking broke, depressed, exhausted and just DONE. I do not want to live like this another day!
But I do have an interview this week. Wish me luck. I need out of this hell.
