Dear friend,
Hey… How are you doing? It’s been a while hasn’t it? How’s life been for you? Good? No? In any case, I hope you are doing fine. It’s a shame that you and I don’t get to talk more often. Because in truth, I really loved all the times we spoke, and at a time like this, when life just seems the hardest for me personally, a friend like you is what I need most.Things have not been going on well for me. So many things have happened that I don’t even know where to begin. I know you have many countless problems of your own, but as a friend, I am hoping that at the very least, I can confide my problems to you; so that I know there is someone else that knows of the things I am going through right now.
I am at my wits end, trying to deal with my sickly mother. It is nothing new; it’s not the first time she has gone into a relapse in her mental illness. But I have been dealing with the past 3 relapses almost single handedly over the course of the year, and I am afraid that it may be getting to me. Countless days of arguing with her, sometimes putting up with her personal attacks on me, sometimes having to see that she eats, baths and clothes herself; its an emotional roller coaster ride that I am only too eager to get off. In every thing that I do, I just seem to be wrong. I force her medication on her, and she screams and cries. Just before I wrote this letter, I had a big argument with her. She threw the medicine I gave her, and tried to snatch the cup of medication I was holding. I called my brother and he promptly calmed her down. I tried giving her the medicine again, but this time she just started sobbing uncontrollably. She drank it, but cried non stop, screaming that the world is evil. I stood there dumb folded, listening and watching my mother cry for the next 15 minutes.
Later, I went into my room, blasted my stereo, grabbed a pillow and just screamed my lungs out. I have never done that before, but this time round, I desperately needed release more than ever. I spoke to my brother, and told him I can’t deal with it anymore. I told him to either admit her into a hospital, or bring her to his place. Thankfully, he agreed, but it won’t be until a few days later.
My friend,
The real problem for me lies not just in my mother’s illness, but in me. I feel like I am leading a double life. As if I am shattered; not whole anymore; living a fragmented life. Can you imagine how it is like for me to go to school, and be the person that I have always been to my friends, friendly, talkative and kind; then come home to a sick mother, and suddenly turn into a jail warden, uncompromising, unyielding, forceful and cold? Then to go into my room alone, facing my computer screen and turn into this sadist, doubter, pessimist, whiner, depressed and lonely? So many times, I just wished that I could wear my heart on my shoulders, but I can’t. Not because I don’t want to, but because I really can’t. At times, my thoughts turn to God, and I wonder why He has forsaken me. But the answer comes quickly; He has not, He never did. It is I who has forsaken Him. Do you know when the last time I genuinely prayed was? So long, even I can’t remember. I dare not even pray. After forsaking Him and hiding from him for so long, I dare not even show my face in His house or pray.
I am not alone. But I still feel lonely. It feels hollow inside. I find myself searching for a purpose, for a reason for all that has happened. You say that everything happens for a reason; but I find myself struggling to find an answer. I don’t know how I ever manage to loose my way so greatly. I make all the right moves, but still end up lost inside. How I wish I was just one of those people, with unshakable faith, with a genuine trust in God, with a genuine hope for tomorrow. Though life must go on for me; all my sense of optimism, trust, and hope for a better tomorrow is as good as dead. My spirit is broken, or close to breaking. I begrudge all that life has thrown at me. Who knows what else is going to happen……
My friend,
I am sorry if all ever talk to you about are my problems. You have been very kind in patiently listening to me rant and whine all this while. I would very much want to hear about how you are doing too, but that seems unlikely to me, for one reason or another. Never the less, just know that I have always been very fond of you, and if ever you needed a friend to talk to, I am here; an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry, a friend to hug.
Yours truly
Your friend
posted by Compulsive Blogger @ 1:49 am
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