Okay this is stupid, I know it is, it's not even a big deal but whatever, I’m just… typing it out because I can't sleep and my brain is trying to eat itself, anyone else ever feel like that? Like your own thoughts are just going to suffocate you? Probably not. I’m probably just being dramatic. It started with the phone call, obviously. It always starts with a phone call, doesn't it? My sister, of course. Not that she ever actually *does* anything but she’s always the one calling to tell me what *I* need to do. "Mom fell again, you need to go." As if I’m not already doing literally everything else. So I'm at work, right? On site, the big new apartment complex, twenty stories going up and I'm practically living there, feeling like a goddamn maestro conducting this symphony of steel and concrete and sweat. I love it. I really do. The noise, the organized chaos, the way everything comes together, seeing it rise out of the ground. It’s… I don’t know, it just feels *right*. Like I belong there, leading the charge. And then the phone rings. And it’s Sarah, with her usual tone, like she’s inconvenienced by having to share news about *our* mother. "She's fine, she just got a little disoriented, but you know how she gets." Yeah, I know how she gets, Sarah, I’m the one who deals with it every other night, not you and your perfect little suburban life two states away. So I told my crew I had to go, had to leave the site *again*, and I saw the looks. Not mean looks, just… understanding. Pity, maybe? And that just makes my blood boil, because I don't want their pity. I want to be there, yelling at someone for misreading blueprints, or high-fiving the crane operator for a perfect lift. I want to be the foreman, not the guy who has to bail constantly because his family is a mess. It’s been months of this. The calls, the running back and forth, trying to juggle project deadlines with finding Mom’s lost glasses for the tenth time that day. And everyone at work, they’re great, they really are, they cover for me and they say "family first" but I can see it in their eyes. The project isn't moving as fast. Things are getting missed. And it’s my fault. I used to be so on top of everything, every detail, every potential snag, I had it all mapped out in my head. Now I’m just trying to remember if I locked the front door before I left for work this morning or if Mom’s going to wander out again. The thing is, I *miss* it. I miss the feeling of being completely immersed, completely in control. I miss the pride of walking onto a site and knowing that I’m the one making it all happen. Now I just feel… fragmented. Half here, half there, and not really doing either thing well. It's like I'm a ghost of myself, walking around, trying to pretend everything is fine. My team, they used to look up to me, you know? They’d come to me with problems, and I’d have the answers. Now, I sometimes just stare blankly at them, my brain half a mile away, wondering if Mom remembered to take her meds. And they see it. I know they do. Yesterday, one of the younger guys, Kevin, he just sort of… took over a problem I was struggling with. Didn’t ask, just did it. And he did it well, honestly. And instead of being proud, I just felt this surge of pure, unadulterated *anger*. Not at Kevin, not really, he was just trying to help. But at… everything. At the situation, at my sister for being useless, at my dad for dying and leaving me with all this, at Mom for just… not being Mom anymore. Mostly at myself though, for letting it all slip. For letting someone else step in when I used to be the one always stepping up. Am I the only one who feels like their entire identity is just… dissolving? Like the person I thought I was, the person I *was*, is just gone? I used to joke about being the general, leading my troops into battle, and it was mostly a joke but there was a kernel of truth there. I thrived on that. On that responsibility, that authority, the respect that came with it. And now? Now I’m just… Mom’s caretaker. And a half-assed foreman. And I hate it. I hate that I hate it, because she’s my mom, and I love her, but god, I just want to feel like *me* again. That guy who built things, who ran things, who made things happen. Not this tired, angry, resentful shell of a person who just stares at the ceiling at 2 AM wondering when the next phone call is going to come. Anyone else feel like they’re just… disappearing?