I'm not handling this well at all. I've already long been suffering dread of what will become of me when my parents are gone, which probably isn't in the distant future as it is. This just makes the fear so much worse, bringing it so much closer. I've tried to express/explain this fear to my parents multiple times, but they just don't care. I tell them, I'm going to be completely alone, unable to care for myself...it doesn't make one dent. They have no plan for what will become of me and they're not interested in coming up with one.
I know it isn't total indifference to my fate, I mean, I THINK they love me, but...I don't know what it is. Extreme denial? Do they really just believe that when they're gone, I'll suddenly get over this lifelong crippling anxiety and depression, learn all the life skills I need, and be okay? I don't know.
They get angry when I cry and worry about them so I do it in my room alone at night. It's getting harder to hold it together through the day, though, with the constant barrage of bad news.
I feel okay for short periods of time, then remind myself of the truth, what's coming, and it's like I need permission to feel okay and under these circumstances that permission is denied. I'm not allowed to feel okay when this awful thing is looming over us. I can't even escape in a book, a song, a daydream. It's always there. Sleep is the only thing that brings relief (I get slight social interaction in my dreams, and if COVID-19 shows up at all, it's still something distant, something inconsequential...so far)...then I wake up to the awful reality all over again.
The worst thing I've read about so far is the dying alone. When you die from COVID-19, you're going to die alone. I can't forgive myself for not being there when a cat of mine was put to sleep...in 2001. Imagine how much worse if it's a parent. I won't be allowed to be there for them. And if it's me instead, they won't be allowed to be there for me. I've spent most of my life lonely and alone aside from my parents...they're all I have. I don't want to be alive anymore when they're gone, even if I could make it on my own, which I can't. That's bad enough. But suffering and dying afraid and alone...that's even worse. Not even a doctor is likely to be there. I know why this is but it just seems intolerable, unforgivable. Why can't we come up with a better way? Nobody should die alone.
...I don't know how to end this and I'm crying again. I just wish I'd get a brain aneurysm or something in my sleep, quick and painless, and go before they do. They'd get over it. I've been nothing but a huge burden and disappointment to them anyway. Then I wouldn't have to wake up to this looming fear every morning, this fear that will still be here even if we make it through this. It's not a matter of if, it's just when.
...And then I remember our cat, and don't know who would take care of her...she's already been rescued twice. She shouldn't be left alone, either...I wish I just hadn't been born at all. And I hope so badly none of us suffer, but it's looking more and more likely and I can't handle it and there's nobody here to tell me, without lying, that it'll be okay. There isn't even anybody to hold or hug.