Neverthesame
MyPTSD Pro
I don't do well with death. Probably no one really does. Besides I like to feel guilty about things apparently.
OK enough stalling.
Mum was diagnosed with her third cancer three and a half years ago, she went to the doctor about some swelling in her leg and came back with stage 4 lung cancer.
Right about this time Covid happened. Mum started on an experimental immune therapy. Long story on it's own I'll put it somewhere else later. Maybe I'll unlock my diary, or not, I dunno I'll figure it out later. Anyways...
I stupidly managed to convince myself that the right thing to do was to not get near her too much as she was immune compromised.
She then spent a month and a bit locked in hospital, no one was allowed to see her. Covid.
She came home for a bit before going to hospice. I did visit her there, it was so hard to be there. I didn't see her as much as I could have.
Here I am three years later and feel horrible about it all.
I have not been able to let myself even cry over her death.
The thought that goes through my head when I feel the grief coming up is. Pardon my language here;
"You pathetic f*ck. How dare you? You couldn't even face her now you want to feel bad about it? f*ck off and eat this, it's the least you deserve."
Good ol' internal monologue, can always count on it to cheer me up. Ha.
Am I wrong? Should I feel bad about this? I just don't know.
I need to figure out something, this won't go away by itself.
OK enough stalling.
Mum was diagnosed with her third cancer three and a half years ago, she went to the doctor about some swelling in her leg and came back with stage 4 lung cancer.
Right about this time Covid happened. Mum started on an experimental immune therapy. Long story on it's own I'll put it somewhere else later. Maybe I'll unlock my diary, or not, I dunno I'll figure it out later. Anyways...
I stupidly managed to convince myself that the right thing to do was to not get near her too much as she was immune compromised.
She then spent a month and a bit locked in hospital, no one was allowed to see her. Covid.
She came home for a bit before going to hospice. I did visit her there, it was so hard to be there. I didn't see her as much as I could have.
Here I am three years later and feel horrible about it all.
I have not been able to let myself even cry over her death.
The thought that goes through my head when I feel the grief coming up is. Pardon my language here;
"You pathetic f*ck. How dare you? You couldn't even face her now you want to feel bad about it? f*ck off and eat this, it's the least you deserve."
Good ol' internal monologue, can always count on it to cheer me up. Ha.
Am I wrong? Should I feel bad about this? I just don't know.
I need to figure out something, this won't go away by itself.