Dad is Not Dead
My dad's condition has worsen. He is now intubated and across his nose we have a huge bruise(?), remnants from the mask he was on to help him breath. 4 days ago we 'celebrated' his 1 month in the hospital. Out of which 3 weeks and counting is in the ICU.
I've never felt poor until this happens. When I have to hope for my dad to pass peacefully so we will not go into financial ruins. When I have to worry about the bills while he lie down there in pain and my resentment grow like mushrooms after rain.
I'd try not to blog about my dad but between pretending like everything is okay and feeling major guilt it is all that I could think of. The circumstances that brought us here. The world that will not stop moving. The impending sense of financial ruins and doom. The death of our normal family days. The fact that I still have to care about AI at work lol. The fact that I still have to be 'nice' to people while I am dying emotionally.
I am such a mess. I Feel so broken. I feel so tired of shouldering the world that is my reality. I feel so fed up by the fact that you have to shoulder more burden because you were the responsible one. I hate the world.
I've never felt 'Everyone is fighting their own battles' more until this happened. Sure I understand that, we try to be kind to everyone but this brought on a whole new meaning because everything is just so fucking raw and in your face.
Some days it's like I am watching myself in auto pilot. Some days I feel like punching my husband in the face just for existing. Some days I feel like walking into the ICU and pulling the plug myself. Some days I wish my dad will wake up and everything will be okay again.