Overload.

I've probably mentioned before in passing that my mother is sick but I haven't mentioned any specifics of that "sickness" before, so here's the complete breakdown of it: my mother has multiple sclerosis, epilepsy, is still recovering from a stroke and is a past cancer patient. She can't talk and is semi-paralysed. She's not bed-ridden, she can walk some distances with the help of a cane, but her right foot is still heavy and drags behind, her right arm doesn't function at all. She has been sick for as long as I can remember but she has been this way since November 2006. And I can't fucking sleep.

I've never been much of a sleeper before then anyway, but when I didn't sleep, it was because I didn't require it. Not because I was afraid that my entire world would come crumbling down around me the instant I shut my eyes. And that's exactly what I am, I'm afraid. All the fucking time. I'm afraid my mother has a seizure and swallows her tongue and nobody's around her to help. I'm afraid she falls off the bed and hits her head and gets some sort of concussion. I'm afraid she aggravates one of the 10,000 injuries she has from the injections she has to take every other day. I'm afraid she forgets to take her medication and her condition gets worse. The list goes on and on. The fear is paralysing, it creeps into my bloodstream, its icy talons find their way to my heart and grip it tightly, making it damn near impossible for me to even draw breath, but I do it anyway. And it very much feels like forcing razors down my throat and trying to wash it down with corrosive acid.

I've cut ties with the people from school, the ones I grew up and graduated with. Because the girl they once knew has ceased to exist and has been replaced by a hollowed version of her and they have no idea why. Nobody knows, because I don't mention it and I've never uttered it to any of them. Because I know the instant I do, I have to endure their pitying glances and sympathetic smiles and that's just something I can't do, I refuse to.

So, I'll keep painting on my smiles with lipstick, covering up the bags under my eyes with concealer and when you BBM me at 4am in the morning asking if I'm up, I'll reply with my standard "I'm always up :P" laugh, joke and try to escape the horrible reality of my mother's constantly deteriorating condition while hoping/praying with every fiber of my being she gets better and becomes the mother i once knew.

-lilo
Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone from Zain Kuwait