And it sickens me that such a chunk of my responsibilities are not really my own. They get passed on because there's no one else. It's not my kid that I spend days looking after. It wasn't a husband or a boss that I kept running errands for when I was supposed to be focusing on this final phase.
And what's more infuriating is that I don't get to deal with my own responsibilities - I'm expected to delay or ignore them - to tend to other people's business. People, might I add, that although they had a responsibility towards me decided to do nothing. On so many occasions I was supposed to be protected, loved and heard but instead they stood watching. Motionless. And I was just a child. And I grew up and I never asked for anything from any of them. So why, pray tell, should I put myself on the line for them? For people who are dead and never once stood my by side? Because of blood for blood's sake?