Confessions of madness
2012-09-20 02:21:12 (UTC)

Alone and awake

So basically I've lost all desire to sleep, which is terrible because I think better around this time (3am).

Things are still slowly settling into place and I'm in the process of building myself a little lonely nest. The people who know about my health have been asked if they can keep the whole thing to themselves as I have decided I REALLY want to keep the people who know down to a minimum though the person I just want to shout it to I can't. M would die inside if she knew and I can't have that with her own problems needing to come first in her life, not me.

Tomorrow I'm meeting up with Rover, the one man who has stood by me these last couple of years with no judgement. I confine everything in him and he in me. We've seen each other as some of the worst times of our lives and we wouldn't let anyone else see that.

I so need to see him, I need to be in the presence of someone who actually cares what happens when I get out of this who doesn't feel the need to mollycoddle me with hugs and "oh no!"'s which I hate because I know half the time they're thinking "I guess it wouldn't effect my life too much if she died and then I'd have something to tell people!". I just need to be scared in the presence of someone else who understands.

I have absolutely no idea how my mother is handling this all but if her body language is anything to go on she's already pushed it out of her mind and will inevitably try to turn the centre of focus back to her very very soon.

And I can't deal with that. More then ever this has made me realise that my life is the one that needs to be sorted, I am the one to sort it and until I have I cannot serve anyone else's every wishes.

I don't even know if my brother knows properly what's going on and I hate the thought of having to tell my father this as its going to kill him to know that he may after all out live his daughter.

I seem to being in either of two states, one minute I'm kind of getting used to the idea and thinking of ways I can try to help myself then I remember the ticking time-bomb on my back and burst into tears.

And I guess that's now got me thinking, what would I be remembered for if I died tomorrow and the thoughts are very pretty.
My life has been spent either in depression of my own or caring for those who do. Like my mother, I've spent the last 4 years giving into whatever she wanted for what? Gratification? Pssh hell no. Undying love? Nope. A personal sense of achievement in helping her? Not at all as she resents the fact I help her and tries desperately to make out that I don't but couldn't live without me.

How long would I be forgotten after I died?