More Than A Year Later

I feel trapped. I left marriages because I felt trapped. I cannot leave this. It is so hard to live with someone who moans with pain, who cannot be left alone except for brief moments in time. I hate shouldering the burden of all the functions of another person's body; having to know if she moves her bowels, tolerating the smell of urine that permeates her bathroom. Fortunately, I do not have to change her adult diaper any more, she has done enough rehab that she can at least do that. But they get so full of urine, while she removes them, they drip on the floor, then I have to mop with bleach to rid the area of the odor. I removed all the carpeting and had the wood floors done to make it easier for me to clean up after her.
How bad can this get? She has a paternal aunt who lived to be 102. Oh My God!! I will be 80 if she lives that long. I will have lost ALL the ME time I worked so hard for all my life. I do not feel guilty for feeling all these negative emotions. I am entitled to them, and I know that after she is gone, I will be able to live with myself. I will be able to look in the mirror, provided of course, that I will not be so old that my vision will have left me years ago.

Needing to talk about this

It's embarrassing. It would help if I had a partner to share concerns with, but I don't. It would help if my low life sister was the slightest bit involved with her mother, but she isn't. It's all on me. Shopping for food, clothing, carting her around, pushing the wheel chair, setting up and making sure she gets to doctor appointments, dealing with all the financial concerns and lack of interest from relatives, becoming her entire social life, having to have conversations when I don't feel like talking, answering questions totally unconnected to what is going on around us, repeating things quickly lost from short term memory and listening to the same stories of long ago events over and over again, having to sleep in the same room with her, absolutely no place in my own home to call my own space, and much much more is making me crazy. It is worse since I left employment and am at home all the time. I know there are support groups, but that is not what I need. I need someone to talk with about this, on a personal, private basis, thus, the blog.