I'm trying today...

 Yesterday, I was a frustrated Jess with a 15mg rocket of adderall up my ass combined with PMS, frustrated that my ADHD hyperfocus kept getting interrupted by my Dad wanting my attention (which I was actually trying to accomplish some work yesterday) and then just seeing my Dad have a bad day where he's trying desperately to catch his breath?  Yeah, yesterday fucking sucked.  I felt useless and horrible and annoyed.  

Today, I'm embracing the fact that I cannot get anything accomplished and trying to just let it slide like I did all last week.  My brain hates being in this state - I hate starting a task then being interrupted several times, but then my brain also says to itself: you stupid bitch.  Quit complaining.  You should be enjoying this time you have with your dad.  My brain very much wants status quo.  My brain also very much hates me right now and it is not very good to me.  I am definitely in the depths of a depression and the biggest problem boils down to communication - rather, lack there of. 

My Dad and I cannot communicate.  He wants me in the room with him, to talk with him, at all hours of the day (and occasionally at night as well).  My Dad has absolutely no entertainment and does not really watch TV by himself and cannot do the stuff he used to do to entertain himself (adventuring, restoring tractors, etc) because he gets too out of breath due to the CHF.  My Dad needs supervision with pretty much everything he does because he's a fall risk.  My Dad cannot drive.  My Dad cannot do a whole bunch of stuff and is relying on me and my family for not just his entertainment, but also his well-being.  My wife, kids and I are very much neuro-spicy and he is a neuro-typical guy living in a neuro-spicy world.  He sees how Kacy, the kids and I communicate but he doesn't understand.  No matter how many times we ask him to be direct with what he wants, it seems impossible for him to understand.  This leads to frustrations on our end and I'm sure on his end too. 

I have to spend the majority of my day trying to anticipate what it is he wants, when he wants it and then execute his wants/needs the moment that he wants/needs whatever or else he gets pissy.  He tries to be patient and wait until I'm done with whatever it is I'm working on, but yesterday.... Yesterday, with that adderall rocket up my ass that sent me into hyper-focus (which I needed because I actually had some real estate stuff that absolutely needed to get done) and when the hyper-focus gets interrupted?  Well, the bitch gets let out of the cage and I can get very very... ugly.  

But TODAY... Today, I'm trying.  I got up, did my hair, put on makeup, dressed in more than just sweatpants and a hoodie.  I even accesorized today! There was even blow drying involved in the hair process!  It's like "What?!?!  Who is this person and what have you done with the woe is me, depressed Jess that we've gotten used to?"  I am trying... I'm trying so hard today.  I feel like I should print myself up a certificate of adulting or something.  Ha!

In half an hour I'm taking my Dad to the cardiologist.  More tests.  He's in an okay mood, but my spidey sense is tingling and he made the comment that he feels like he's fighting for his life.  That's not necessarily a comment you want to hear.  And then, how does one even respond to that?  I don't think you necessarily want to be like "You're doing a great job!" for that one.  Then again... who knows? Ugh.  

I honestly think, though, that I've had all the adulting I can handle for a little while and I'm going to attempt to flip the switch that turns off my humanity at least for a little while, so I can get through what I need to do.  Oh, who the fuck am I kidding - I can't do that.  I have tried turning off that switch to other people and all it does it end up biting me in the ass.  Besides, while I totally understand some people can do that to their parents and other people, I cannot flip that switch on my Dad.  I care very much about him and it crushes me every day seeing him either scared, or worried, or even just repeating the same conversation to the same three people he talks to every day.  I have to accept that this is how it's going to be until the day he dies.  Unless it gets worse.  And then, I told him I was going to just hire him a hot nurse to give him sponge baths.  He thought that was funny.