Flare

 I was just crying.

For the nth time, I was yelling at Grandma.

I do not know how to hold my temper anymore. As soon as I get an irk, it bursts forth like a bullet from a gun, and with it my mouth spurts out the words you would wince upon hearing.

Only after I have yelled does it dawn on me what I had done. And that there was no getting back those moments.

The anger was on and then it was not. And then realization sets in on how wrong I was to behave like that towards Grandma who has done nothing wrong save for being an Alzheimer's patient. 

I was the one in the right mind, why didn't I become the bigger person?

I should have taken care of her instead of maligning her. I should have taken care how I reacted. I should have reacted more gracefully than the bumbling, ingrate fool that I had become.

I can't imagine how Grandma felt while I was yelling at her. She must have been so confused and lonely. 

She won't know how sorry I am, though. Because I know in the coming days I would still be yelling at her. 

I wish there was a switch to push so I can act more differently towards Grandma - like the proper granddaughter that she deserves who cares for her and talks to her gently even it meant repeating what to say five or a dozen more times. Instead of the heartless bitch that I am now, Grandma does not deserve my rage.

So I cry in the aftermath. I'm burned out. I think both Mom and I are burned out. 

There's something wrong with me, I believe this so much. Why and how I can be a bitch towards Grandma, I don't know, I can't explain. There are days when I wake up and see her, the fire is instant -  I hate her already without her doing anything. And then when she does something, it's like fuel and my flames are on high, violent and screaming. 

I wish I can stop me from being me. 

And times like this, I wish I was not alive. 

And thinking about not being alive takes me on a rollercoaster of emotions, stemming from my feelings towards my Mom and how she would be lonely then slowly going up to feeling useless all my life then  down in a rush to a pit of self-hatred where I am stuck in a crazy loop. How did I end up like this?

And none of the stoic books I read can save me. I want to save me. 

But I'm a heartless bitch to a Grandma who can't tell time anymore or remember that wet underwear can't be stashed on her bag to be laundered on the next day.