Why do I keep doing it?

Out of love? Out of respect? Those would be the standard answers but those things are long gone. I'm left with anger and hatred and, on good days, nothing at all. Walking through the day in a numb daze.

I have this vague notion that I'm avoiding the regrets and guilt. That if I walked away I would always feel like I hadn't done enough but that thoughts been buried along with my dreams. If I survive this . . . when I can actually walk away and have my life back the only memories I'll have of my parents will be bad ones. Nobody has seen the dementia take over my mother's body but me. Babbling, mumbling, yelling and screaming. The chattering of teeth in the dark. The mocking. The blaming. They only see the daytime. They only see the tip of the iceberg.

I go through each day in a haze. Listing every mistake I've made that brought me to this point. Wondering if this will every end. Wondering if I'll be alive when it does. Wondering if anyone else will ever wake up and see what happening right in front of their faces and if it does will their be anything left of me. If I could only sleep. If her dementia would just let me sleep awhile.

(Please no "get help" or "see a doctor" or "join a group". If I could get out of the house I wouldn't be on this forum every day. I'd be out of the house and still have my sanity. If I had the time to go do those things I wouldn't have the need to go do those things.)