Gramma has semantic dementia (short version: she's completely aware of her surroundings and her memory is intact, but she can't walk or talk) and needs someone with her 24/7. This is a degenerative disorder, related to Alzheimer's but with virtually no genetic component: it isn't inherited. The disorder has roughly an eight-year course; her symptoms became noticeable in 2007, right before my older cousin's wedding in Florida (aka the Death Cruise of Doom). Since she needs round-the-clock care, this has greatly diminished my mother's availability at the family business. Visiting nurses come by for a few hours a couple days a week, to allow Mom to handle some business arrangements, but insurance won't cover more than that. So essentially one of the co-owners and the manager are absent. Grampa's death has affected every aspect of our lives. Life is very, very hard right now, to say the least.
On top of that, the Ridiculously Tall Boyfriend found out that he's being deployed to South Korea. For anywhere from eighteen months to three years.
Yeah. This is officially the shittiest month/year/happenstance EVER. I realized a few days ago that, while I wasn't looking, I've backslid into the worst depression I've had since I was on the generic Wellbutrin. I'm not suicidal or anything, in the sense that I don't actively want to kill myself, although disappearing from existence looks more pleasant every day. I'm technically functional--I'm working, cleaning things, even taking my ADD meds--but right now life is sort of a giant void of suck.