My shoulder is worse now than when I originally injured it. I can't even let my arm hang at my side without pain, and I keep aggravating it every night since that is my preferred sleeping side. This morning I woke up with a headache from clenching my teeth every time I tried to roll over in my sleep. I usually fall asleep on my stomach, but that is also a painful position for the bum shoulder. I now have to sleep on my back. I hate it. I'm up late pretty much every night watching TV. I attempted to strap an ice pack to myself several times today, and I simply cannot secure the Ace bandage without painfully twisting the shoulder. It's frustrating.
Mom's having a hard week too. Her mood swings have been intense and unpredictable. I had to put her out of my bedroom a few days ago - after telling her that I am no longer participating in her manipulative conversation tactics. She looked offended, but I think she was mostly surprised. I've been calling her on her shit with the exactness of a scalpel lately. I'm not doing it to hurt her so much as I am protecting myself. I'm sick of always being the one to take the abuse, internalize the pain and cry it out. I think 42 years is more than enough of that. She still tries to ambush me with the blame assignment in the middle of a self-pity party, but I am getting good at shutting that shit down to silence. Today I put the Benadryl on top of the fridge after she asked me how many pills were in the bottle. I know that her suicide talk is another manipulation (because I have offered her the gun too many times to count and she won't take it because Catholicism), but I figured I should still be cautious just in case. I'm taking her in to see a doctor tomorrow. I think the inconsistency in her blood sugar levels and moods over the past few days are related. I think it's a UTI. Dialysis patients have a strict limit on how much liquid they can consume, and she hates drinking water. Hates it. She won't admit it, but I have been arguing with her about drinking more water for at least ten years. I wish she would've listened to me before her kidneys failed, back when she could've saved herself from all this misery. She used to complain so much about arthritis (refusing to drink water because she didn't want to walk to the bathroom so frequently), but I bet she'd give her right hand to go back to having only arthritis pain. Her health is so delicate now. I feel bad for her. Yes, I do feel bad for her, but she's still an emotional tyrant. I am developing the ability to see her as both fragile and cruel. I don't like that at all, but I'm certain it is helping me to overcome a bunch of my limiting beliefs around love and pain.
Last, but not least, the poverty sucks balls. I still don't have the money together to register my car. Several somethings will have to go unpaid (joining an already significant stack of unpaid bills) so I can legally stay on the road. Mom is still unable to demonstrate that she is capable of taking care of herself for more than a couple of hours. She cannot get a meal together, even when the food is already prepared and placed in easily-recognized containers. She acts like she doesn't want to eat when she's hungry - she just wants to whine about it until she is too sick or weak to do anything for herself. I'm not sure how I can go out and make money if I need to be here for every dang meal. Considering the gas mileage and maintenance costs for my vehicle, SF is the only place where I can drive Uber and potentially do better than just breaking even. Being poor is not cute. Having accounts in collections is not cute. They don't even bother calling me anymore. They can't threaten me with anything, not that they've actually tried - most of the creditors' reps are very empathetic about my family situation. My credit is already shot, and I can't work so there's no income for them to garnish. It's the American dream.
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