It’s my life It’s now or never But I ain’t gonna live forever

People have always said that I don’t know what hard is. I’ve had a few hard things happen in my life, but y’know what . . . those people were right. I have always lived a very pampered lifestyle. And I don’t know what a hard life actually is. I have a sunny California, Full House, Brady Bunch existence.

Until now. Since 2009, I have taken on more responsibility with my grandma. Everything was always on my mom because there was nobody else there to help. Her brother didn’t help. He ran away because he just couldn’t handle it. He was a mechanic but he couldn’t even help her with her car. It’s broke down. And my mom was just drowning in it. She needed help. It’s too much for one person.

And her other grandchildren aren’t around.

Her grandson, who she always speaks so highly of, hasn’t called her. He hasn’t sent a card. He doesn’t help her with hard labor that men are supposed to do. He just doesn’t do the grandson things for her. She hasn’t seen or heard from him in so long she thinks he’s dead.

So, after 12 years of helping this woman to walk. To have positive thinking. To get her groceries. To clean her house. To do everything.

It’s ruined my life.

That’s why my artwork has suffered for the last decade. I try to work on my art, but I’m just trudging along. My Internet is here at my grandmas because it’s not available where I live. I decided to make it work though, so I can be here to help her and do my work. But her needs always came first. I’d sit down and get started working and BOOM. There she is yelling very sternly, “Morgana!! Do you have a minute?!”

That minute just becomes the whole visit and I run home stressed out of my mind. And then I’d just do it all over again.

I love to help people. Especially my own family because I believe family should stick together. Help each other and be there for each other. But now that she can’t even walk and her digestive system has shut down. And she’s so crazy. Everyday, it’s non stop crazy. And she’s killing me. My health is suffering. My well being is suffering.

I now understand what hard is.

I’m so exhausted. My poor dog threw up yesterday. My mom goes home to sleep every night, and I stay here with my grandma. And I like to have Sunny with me, but it’s just gotten too hard on her. I can’t do that to my dog anymore.

It’s just non stop abuse from her. She screams and yells around the clock. I don’t understand why my life isn’t important. Why is her 83 year old life as a bed ridden elderly person who has dementia, and who has a lifetime handicap that causes her 24/7 pain. Which Hospice outright REFUSES to acknowledge her handicap.

“WHAT HANDICAP?!” They yell.

We reply, “Uuh, the obvious one…”

Come on. She has one leg that’s shorter than the other. Her pelvis is twisted and tilted. How can you miss it?!?! The mean nurse even changed her diaper and my grandma was scared and in pain. But you know what they do? They ignore it. They yell at us. They get mad at the drop of a hat. They say they didn’t hear her say she’s in pain. You may not believe me. But it is happening. For months now, we have been abused by these people.

I cannot understand it. I can’t even get donations on her stupid GoFundMe.

None of my friends have shared it or even been that concerned for me. One friend offered to share on FB and I let him. That day I had a ton of views and a few emails. One email was my cousin yelling at me and accusing me of things. But did she offer to help? Did she share the link? Did she donate? Did she come visit her aunt and her grandma and offer love and support?

No, she didn’t. She just attacked me.

My grandma’s dear friend, who gives me so much anxiety said she’d share the link. And she knows a guy who raised money before. She didn’t share it though. Just days before the winter storm, she was demanding we give her grandma’s insurance card, credit card, and demanded my mom stay away while she takes her to the doctor.

WHAT?! I don’t know who she thinks she is, but her interference has caused me to have nightmares. But does she help? Did she use her resources to help her dear friend who she says she loves? No.

Another friend, known him since we were 12, said he’d share the link. So I sent it to him, but he hasn’t replied and I don’t see traffic on my blog or the GoFundMe. So, I guess he didn’t share it and I’m not gonna beg. He hasn’t been a true friend to me for at least 5 years anyway. So, I don’t expect him to be there for me.

I even sent the link to church people. I’ve known these people for a long time, and we only ever hung out during church events. So, where are they? Why haven’t they sent the link? Or donated a small amount? Or just called? Maybe they’re praying.

I just don’t matter. She matters more than two college educated women who have potential for greatness.

She matters more than my innocent dog who just wants to have the good life she’s accustomed to. My god daughter doesn’t understand why I NEVER come over. I tried to explain it, but she’s 8 and she knows that I will show up because I always do. And this time I’m not showing up. So, I guess she doesn’t matter either. She took it ok the first 4 times she asked. But the last time she called, her voice let me know she’s mad and hurt.

Right this minute my grandma is yelling, “Please kill me God. Please! Kill me God.” And she just lays there screaming and yelling. So, I have been able to draw a little bit. And I’ve been working on my photography some. I’m running out of steam though.

But, it’s just not important.

My life is officially over. I just take care of a crazy person who can’t walk. She can’t digest food properly. She’s in pain. She’s begs her only granddaughter to kill her. The stress is destroying me as each month goes by. Hospice wont show compassion and work with us. Her weekend aid had compassion. She was crying yesterday. She was off the clock and stood there crying and wondering why Hospice isn’t helping. If only Hospice would show the compassion that aid showed.

I read this article about this man who actually had help, guidance, and compassion from Hospice. Why can’t we have that?

That’s my life. Great. Now I can’t get this song out of my head. I don’t even like it that much lol.

There’s the art I did that doesn’t matter. The guy yelling like a Nazi is one of the nurses. He yelled at me. He’s the one who said, “What handicap?” Yeaaa, he is one of the people who is traumatizing me.

The cupcake and mushrooms aren’t done. I’ve just put a few layers of Inktense pencils.

And the top three pictures are of Sunny listening to my grandma yelling. The second picture is of Sunny’s throw up. And the third picture is my grandma’s leg. You see how theres no muscle? That’s the damage that was done by the nursing home who neglected her and put us in our current situation. At least I have lots of terrible stuff to document for some art series.