Perspective

Chapter Twenty Eight.

"I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight.
I need somebody and always
This sick strange darkness
Comes creeping on so haunting every time"

***

I'm so fucking tired.

I think that's the main reason that I was looking forward to, and dreading my mother going away. I knew when she got back that things would get worse.

I don't know if it's because I didn't speak to her while I was away, I haven't paid enough attention to her or if it's because of how I reacted to my sister on the phone that's the reason that she's going through one of her episodes but I'm honestly too exhausted to figure it out.

It's 9pm on Friday, so it's been five days since I've seen Harry, I'm both surprised and grateful he hasn't just turned up at my house - there's the smallest part of me that actually found me missing that dickhead and it was yet another thing that confused me. I haven't even had time to think about what's gone on between us, to be frank I haven't had the energy either. Mum being home means back to my usual routine of barely being able to leave the house unless it's for work or I'm out getting her something she wants.

She'd have me quitting my job if she could, I remember that was one of the first things I did for myself that she hated. Because if she had it her way, my only job would be taking care of her.

Frankie has been nice enough to pick Gizmo up and drop him off the two days I've worked this week, He could tell as soon as he saw me that I was going through another bad episode with mum from how worn out I looked.

I haven't told him about what's happened with Harry and I yet, I'm not really sure what to do there but again, after this week with mum I just haven't had the energy to think about it.

It's mental torture, it's the only way I can put it. It's like having your brain and emotions water boarded.

The sleep deprivation, constantly trying to scare me with saying she has chest pains or that she can't breathe but not letting me call for help, just so I have to constantly check on her. Yelling out help from her room just for me to walk in panicked and have her tell me she needs a drink. Banging at my door at 4am crying saying she's in pain and needs pain killers - even though she KNOWS I cant give her more than what shes prescribed. If I ignore it, she sits outside my door wailing and crying "Drew please help me", over and over and over again.

Its to the point where I start hallucinating. I'll be at work and hear her. Or sometimes she'll be asleep and I still panic because I think I can hear her yelling out to me.

Makes me feel like that little kid running to my parents room all over again.

It can send a person insane, being trapped with that; just listening to someone wail in pain and beg for help, but they won't let you help. It's excruciating to listen to, especially from your own mother.

If it's not the pain killers, it's the cigarettes. She acts like they're heroine. Even though I have to rashion them out to her so she can afford it, because shes regularly smoked 80 in one day when she can, she still chain smokes them and expects me to figure out a way to find money and get her more.

"I need smokes Drew, Ive run out"

"You knew you had to make them last, I can't get them"

"Why not? You got paid today"

Same conversation, over and over again.

And then there's the messages, the endless slew of constant text messages that bombard me like she's dinging a bell from her room.