Tonight when I visited Mom she wasn't herself. She was pale and her hands were swollen. She didn't respond in her usual way when she saw me, in fact she didn't respond at all. It freaked me out and I started to cry. I fed her dinner and she ate it all with no problems, even her dessert. They took her vital signs and they were fine. She didn't have a temperature. After dinner she started perking up and her color was better. But the RN and I were debating whether to call 911 and take her to the hospital. I just had never seen her like this except when she was a the hospital and they had just started her on Geodon. I feel guilty about not visiting her since Tuesday, especially since it appears that she wasn't 'herself' all day. This is so hard. I cried all the way home and then I cried some more. I want my Mommy.

On another front, my sister-in-law is in the hospital having shock treatments. Her depression and anxiety has deepened and she is not in good shape. I'm praying for Mom and sis-in-law and hoping that God will wrap them in his arms and keep them safe.

Things Can Only Get Better, Right?

I'm having one of those days where I wonder if it's all worth it. I hate reporting to my supervisor and my manager; neither one speaks to me and I'm feeling completely blackballed at work. Why? Because I suffered a debilitating bout of major clinical depression and anxiety (a lovely combination...not!) a few years ago and I not only didn't care about work but every day was a struggle to keep going. At the time my life was fine, but the chemicals in my brain were way out of whack and this caused my depression. They continue to hold this against me. Isn't that totally absurd? Before I had a purpose in my life which was to take care of Mom and this really didn't matter. Even though I thank God every day that Mom is just 3 miles away, I miss her so much it hurts. I'm grateful too for the caring and gentle women who care for her every day at CB. But I'm worried about her money which has been dwindling away with this stupid Wall Street mess. I worry about how she is adjusting to her new home and if she is happy there. My worst fear is that she is miserable and confused about how she ended up there. I just want to throw in the towel and yell uncle. I keep waiting for life to get better but it only seems to get worse.