Saturday, March 06, 2010

Torn

I hate to admit it, and I feel guilty that I’m even feeling this way… but this routine is slowly getting tiresome.

After being admitted at the hospital for a few days due to extreme weakness, my grandpa is finally back home. Not that anything has changed as far as his strength is concerned. He’s still extremely weak, I wonder if he was really fit to be discharged from the hospital. I even wonder if he should have been admitted in the first place. I mean, I doubt if he could ever get his strength back. But he’s already back home, and the past two days seemed to have made everyone in the house tired and weary.

I'm starting to find my everyday routine tiresome. I always have to check on both of my grandparents every few minutes when I’m at home--- and that’s most of the time. I only work twice a week… I doubt if I can actually call what I am doing as work. When put in another perspective, the time I spend at work is actually my free time. I go to work just to take a break from it all. The things I do at home is causing me too much stress. I do more work at home, and I seldom rest. I have to check on their medications, give intravenous meds, assist them as they are trying to walk, change diapers and even feed them at times. I’ve become a personal caregiver with a degree in medicine. I don’t mind doing all those things since I owe my grandparents a lot and God knows that I love them. It’s just that there comes a point every now and then when all these things pile up and I reach the brink of my tolerance.

But compared to what our two household helpers have been doing, I guess I have it easy. All of a sudden, their work load has been multiplied a tenfold, and the things they do are definitely not included in their job description. The time and effort that they give are definitely not proportionate to the salaries they have been getting, and I predict that at least one of them will leave on the next few days. They couldn’t even sleep for crying out loud. How could they when the buzzer would ring every few minutes or so, which means that either my grandpa or grandpa needs help with something. And they choose no specific hours. Even during the wee hours of the morning, I hear the buzzer ring a lot of times and it awakens me from sleep every so often. The exasperated sighs I hear from our helpers every time the buzzer rings are sure signs that they too are getting tired of this routine. A few times, they even pretend not to hear that dreaded buzzer. I can’t really blame them. I mean, even I wouldn’t last this long doing those things for people I’m not even related to, especially if I do not receive just compensation for all the time and effort that I give.

My grandparents don’t even want me to go out of the house. They want me to be always there just in case they needed me for something... stuff that no one else could do. As much as I want to get out just to get some air, the look in their eyes as they plead me not to leave makes it hard for me to say no. There are times that I get to sneak out late at night, but evidently they would discover that I left. When I’m out I get this indescribable feeling of elation that only freedom can give. But when I get home, the manner in which they ask me why I went out really saddens me. It tears my conscience apart as if I have done something that was gravely wrong. How I hate that feeling.

Earlier my grandpa asked me if i will be leaving the country soon. I told him it won’t be able to work abroad this year, I have to wait until the next year. After that, my grandma told me to just stay with them. She asked me if it would be possible for me to just stay in this country. Even though I wanted nothing more than to get out of this god forsaken place, I found it hard to tell her that. How I hate this feeling. I hate it when I’m torn between two things. I want nothing more than to get out of here, but at the same time, I’d hate to leave them here. I hate the fact that my family is holding me back, and it sucks even more because I love them. If I leave I won’t completely be happy because I’ll be thinking about them, but if I stay here I would never be happy. Whatever decision I make, I just can’t win. It sucks that I can’t have it both ways, but ultimately I have to choose. At this point in my life I am more inclined to do what I want. I am more inclined to base my decisions on what’s good for me, and I try so hard not to be swayed by love or pity. At times it would seem to be a losing battle, because family just holds so much weight, but still I have to try. It’s like choosing the lesser of two evils. In life, nothing is perfect, nothing feels completely right, nothing can make us completely satisfied. My conscience will continue to nag me, but oftentimes our conscience is being unfair so it would be best to simply ignore it. I won’t be turning my back on them completely, and it’s about time I made definite plans that would impact the rest of my life. It's about time that I make long term plans. One’s family shouldn’t hold one back. One’s family should support one’s dreams and help them reach their goals. I can’t devote my whole life to them, even though it’s only temporary. I have to leave a part for myself. I can’t put everything on hold waiting for the inevitable--- who knows how long it would take? I’ve put my life on hold for so many years now, maybe I deserve the chance to slowly move on. How can that be so wrong? Why does this conscience keep on bothering me, as if this is so wrong? I am determined to go on with this path I have chosen. I’ll keep walking on this rocky path no matter how hard it seems, and I would try to keep myself from stalling every time that I look back. I’ll keep moving along, hurdling over all obstacles, resisting the urge to head back, even if it would ultimately break me apart.

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