Ended up venting to Dianna last night, about this whole situation. It's really turning into a situation where I wake up, dreading that I have to do it all AGAIN. I'm so fucking sick of it all. I'm tired of this crap and the direction I see it taking and the fact that it's all on me and I'm not getting the help I feel I should. I'm starting to feel like I was lied to, from the start. I was told I'd have to drive him to doctor's appointments, occasionally; I was NOT told it would be 2-3 times a week, nor that it would be across the damn city and that I'd be doing it in a 20-year-old car. I was told he could handle certain aspects of his hygiene; I was not told that this was a bald-faced lie. I was told I'd be here until Rose got home, and a couple times a month she'd be later than normal; I was NOT told that I'd be here late, but a couple times a month she'd be on time. I was given the responsibility to help him recover; I was not told I'd be the only one doing it. I was told I would be helping take care of him; I was not told I'd be taking care of the house. I am told he wants to get better and walk; I was not told he'd find every excuse to make things easier, thus hindering his recovery.
I'm so tired. I know I said it before, but I really should have taken my meds this morning. I meant to do so, and spaced it, and now I'm regretting that. I want to talk to a doc about getting on them permanently, at least until this is all over...which may never happen.
Funny...I'm regretting a lot of things, these days.