My double life and only a miracle can change everything

I am 20 years old. There are three of us living together - me, myMom and my youngestbrother . A year ago, my grandmother died. She lived with us and suffered from Diogenes syndrome, when you drag all the trash into the house. When she was alive, our house was a garbage dump in the literal sense of the word. Piles of garbage (rottenvegetables , rags, old papers, cat food) one and a half meters high, and she sat on them, screaming at us, calling us different names, humiliating us. They didn’t take her to a mental hospital — she wasn’t violent. Attempts to throw everything out were accompanied by scratching, insults, screaming on her part. It was impossible to live in the house, everything had become unusable long ago (ours is old, eight-apartment, already in a state of emergency).

We lived in one room, afraid to go out to the kitchen. It's a long story. Then she died, although no one expected it. When I was little, I thought that when she died, everything would be fine. But everything didn't. We threw out the trash, but even while she was alive, our sewage system stopped working, we had to test-antibiotic.com go to the toilet in the yard, in a small stall, in full view of the entire yard. It turned out that we had a huge debt for gas and it was turned off, the heating is also gas. There is no money, I work alone (as a nurse), and my mother, with two higher educations, either cannot or no longer finds the strength to find a good job. All the neighbors know about this situation, they think that we are almost outcasts, but it seems that we do not have the strength to change anything.

I try to save some money from my salary, but it all goes on food, travel to work, and school for my brother. The funniest thing is that none of my friends (although I have almost none left, for other reasons) know about this. I have always been a good student, I look very good, I am looked after by smart, well-mannered guys with money, who are quite socially positive. I have a good job at a government hospital. When I am not at home, I flutter, I feel beautiful, young, that all roads are open to me. When I open the door of my apartment, I cannot think about anything except this blatant poverty, this despondency, this inability to do anything.

Mom has aged and looks like she's 60, although she's 48 and she used to be a beauty. She hangs around the house listlessly and keeps writing diaries, thinking, putting something into her head, but no one will take it and roll up their sleeves to do something. The worst thing is that I used to think that there was always a way out - for me to leave myself andforget about it, like a bad dream, but now I understand that I will never be able to leave them there, and I myself will eat well, sleep, walk, have fun. Thank you for letting me speak out.