I moved about five years ago to live with my aging mother. I knew she would need my help as she was already showing signs of needing help, back then. It was a good thing for both of us. I lost my house to foreclosure (I have C-PTSD, and losing my lovely little house that was all mine, and some of my belongings as well, added to it.) I come from a toxic, dysfunctional, mentally ill family, myself included. It stems from our father being both an alcoholic and narcissist. How can one not be messed up, coming from that foundation. You adapt and adopt dysfunctional ways just to survive.
I have spent great amounts of time trying to research why I am the way I am, and to fix myself. My ex-husband was expert at pointing out that there was something wrong with me, even though he didn't want to help me figure it out or try to help me... that was my problem, so I should fix it myself, right.
So, when I came to help my mom, I had great plans of making her healthy meals, exercising with her, cleaning the house for her. Unfortunately, my dad and one of my older brothers who is also an alcoholic, and came to live (take advantage of) my mom -- did everything they could to undermine and sabotage my good intentions and efforts regarding my mom, for their own selfish reasons. They liked that she was developing dementia, because now she was no longer argumentative but would do everything they wanted her to (sit on her butt all day and watch TV with them, eat out at restaurants (she would pay for the meal, of course) and live a sedentary lifestyle that they love. I finally gave up trying to help my mom. To get out of the house so I didn't have to be around the toxic people (Dad, Brother and Mother), I got a part-time job at a health food and supplement store. It was a struggle for me to work with the public because I am quite introverted and although I did like many aspects of my job and helping people, it also drained me of energy. I worked there for a little over a year, I think.
Anyway, a lot of terrible things have happened in the space of time from then to now, which I won't go into right now. But I realized way back at some point, that there must be a term for what I was feeling... lack of compassion, not caring anymore, anger, frustration, hatred for my family, self-hatred, depression, extreme gut-wrenching sorrow, wanting to escape, escape fantasies, scrabbling for ideas to escape and to make easy money, etc.
I started researching (I always turn to researching because it's a way to try to make sense of WHY), and found that there is indeed a term for what I was feeling. It doesn't really help me in practical terms, because there's nothing I can do about it. But it does help to know that I am normal to feel the way I do, and that there are many, many people who also are going through the same thing.