I never learned how to reach out and ask for help, or to ask someone to just listen to me. It’s easier for me to just type out and think that someone will read it. It’s not a matter of life or death and just a matter of wishing I had someone there. That being said I have overcome a lot of things on my own. So this thing that is happening now is just another obstacle I’ll have to overcome. And extremely cruel one. I live at home with my folks, both disabled my father through the Vietnam war and mother with Parkinson’s. Along with the Parkinson’s we were told that dementia is a very real possibility. Until it was finally diagnosed, since that day I seen her go from the person that raised me to a ghost or her formal self. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. So lately I’ve just taken each day as it comes, not really sure how to react, or how I should feel or do. I’ve spent most my life being a rock, I didn’t allow anything painful in my life hurt me, just chip away at me little by little. I’m learning now that too much chipping will turn even a boulder into a pebble with enough time. It’s hard…it’s really fucking hard.
