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I'm not quite sure why everything is bringing me down today, it just seems to be.
Skimmed a letter form one of Mum's friend's yesterday. I wasn't being particularly nosey - it was on the kitchen table and I know her reasonably well. She lives in Spain now, so they only correspond by letter.
Anyway, the PS was - Hope C has finally sorted herself out?
Nice.
It wasn't even a proper question.
And then today I fond one of the cats had peed in the downstairs toilet.
Not only is this automatically Diz, but it is because he tray is dirty (it wasn't). Also, we pay this backwards and the problems we had with one of the cats peeing in the living room last summer was also Diz. Despite the fact the problem ended when we got HER cat some more Feliway for the bedroom.
Oh and we know all this because Maureen told her I don't clean his tray out enough. Because her cat won't go in a tray he has used once.
Despite the fact that Diz is not benji. Despite the fact that neither Mum nor Maureen know how often I empty the tray (Mum made a comment about the smell in the first couple of months so I never do it when she is around). Despite the fact I use a very different litter, because I have to sleep in the same room as the litter tray.
It's not the fact of the matter. It's the fact that Mum had a conversation about my cat with someone who knows nothing about the set-up and made her decision based on that.
Urgh. Her bloody friends.
And this whole thing with Grandad and Mum being a cross between Mother Theresa and The Lady of the Manor. Yes - there were BIG problems to start with. No he was NOT getting the help he needed and it was a dreadful situation. But now she's just finding things to get worked up about. She then phones up all her horrible friends to tell them what she is having to do, and how hard it is on her, and how no-one is giving her any support as usual. She screamed that at Dad the other night after having a particularly harrowing call telling someone how this would see her into an early grave and she didn't know how she was going to cope much longer.
Her friends have told her to go to the doctor and get some help. What help they can really give a furiously angry and frustrated woman I don't know, because that is her main problem only she won't acknowledge it.
Sigh. I'm doing the same to her as she is to me I suppose. Bitching about how awful she is behind her back. But I can't bear to provoke another incident like we had at Christmas.
I just wish she'd stop taking it all on herself. She does get a kind of low down pleasure from it. She doesn't have to go and feed him every night. The nurses will do that, they know about that. And she knows I will do it for her - I'm doing so tonight. If she really can't trust me to get it right, how come she's not going to Mass on Sunday instead of Saturday so I don't have to? Oh I know - because she knows damn well I've offered to help and can do - as has my sister - but she needs to maintain the fiction that she is all alone in this.
I do feel sorry for her - honestly I do. It's a horrible thing to go through. But I can't break through the shell that she's put up around her vulnerability. I never have been able to. All I get to do is try to make sensible suggestions. And that would work FAR better if I wasn't living here.
Yeah, so back to the top.
I know perfectly well why I'm unhappy today.
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