7am Tuesday morning – It’s a later arrival at the keyboard than of late for yours truly. Afflicted by sleep deprivation, my recent daily landscape has witnessed me normally concluding these literary trinkets by this time; before groggily wandering downstairs for brekkie.

However, with slumbering until 6.45am today my fingers have only just started walking these heavily used laptop keys. It’s not too shabby a start time by any stretch of the imagine, but I thought it worthy of mention to fill in time pre-topic epiphany……. Ok, it isn’t worthy of mention, but bear with me while I endeavour to assuage you with something that is.

“So what are your plans for today, Gary?” I hear you cry…… Well, those of you who’ve stayed with me beyond the tepid literary fare served up in the initial two paragraphs of this piece.

A question to which, as it stands, I can’t answer definitively…… God, this essay isn’t backing up my oft spouted hubristic boasts of how wonderfully creative I am….. The warm platter of insightful and funny thoughts of which I aspire (and brag) when writing currently being dished up as week old cold cuts – Uninspiring fare which the dog’d even turn its nose up at.

Not that I have a dog….. Unless you count my sometime lab/retriever companion Coco….. Actually as Cokey (as I call her when I call her Cokey) would consume anything, including discarded burgers she finds on a local green, perhaps my analogy isn’t without flaws….. Although, saying that, even Coco couldn’t eat a metaphor.

With not seeing her for a couple of weeks, I’ve really missed Coco. The unconditional loyalty and affection she bequeaths always adding greatly to my life.

Uplifting behaviour which plays out as the very antithesis of the usual daily landscape I currently endure. That of a life degraded by the ungrateful, manipulative and dishonest diatribes of my mother (of whom I’m a carer). Polemics she’s introduced into my existence with an agenda of painting me as an uncaring villain.

Her misinformation a classic case of biting the hand which feeds her; delivered with such cunning manipulation to others that this hokey manifests accusations from others of her mistreatment.

The fact I’ve sacrificed my lifestyle choices to look after her in isolation seemingly not a noble enough act to appease my accusers – Individuals whose case for the prosecution is seemingly borne solely from the toxic lies of a woman with dementia.

No defence afforded to yours truly before judge and jury accusations are laid at my door. ….. If truth be told, circumstances which make carrying out an already difficult carer’s role significantly more challenging.

I don’t mind undertaking this act of offspring duty and I certainly don’t want a bloody medal for what I’m doing; regardless of how miserable the task. That being said, I certainly don’t expect the sheer f***ing ingratitude displayed by my mother and the few swallowing her bile hook, line and sinker.

This taking for granted and lack of appreciation towards a son who’s undertaking all the cooking, washing up (she hasn’t got a dishwasher), laundry, dispensing of meds, gardening, admin tasks and even having to turn the bloody TV over utterly galling in itself.

However, when you add to that toxic brew the thanks I receive for my efforts are to endeavour painting me as a t**t (which some believe as valid) infuriates me. As it stands I’m pretty close to saying “F**k this for a game of soldiers!“, leaving the situation for others to deal with.

I won’t, of course, but of late this deeply irksome and stressful set of circumstances has led to me experiencing the first heart palpitations since my heart attack in January of 2019.

Individuals backing mum’s claims of her mistreatment (despite not holding one jot of evidence to the contrary) will probably accuse me of being overly melodramatic with this revelation. Perhaps dubbing me as an attention seeker using this blog to gain some sympathy for my perceived mistreatment.

However I’d argue, as someone with a history of heart issues, I’m well within my rights to be more than a little concerned about this latest set of chest flutters…….. And quite frankly so should my accusers, because if anything does happen to me their lives will become significantly worse as a consequence.

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