After a nice conversation

My grandmother basically informed me that she actually does not care. She thinks I am a selfish person who only cares about herself and has for years, and that she gave up long ago. I told her a few things about what happened in my past because she claims to "not know me" (I don't recall her ever asking me anything personal or direct, only criticism for years) and I tried to reinforced the fact I am not psychic: if she wants/needs something done she has to tell me, and if she notices something needs to be done she has to tell me because half the time I don't notice it if I'm distracted..and I'm almost always distracted. I have ADHD so I can notice the bathroom has to be cleaned 5 times in one day, but if I get distracted...it isn't going to happen. I also have memory problems from the 23 operations I had as a kid which apparently screwed up both short and long-term memory to a certain extent, and most of the time I can't remember what I had for breakfast 5 minutes after the fact. (Try asking me what the topic of a conversation was about that lasted for more than 5 minutes.) I try to mask it, but people usually think I'm just a complete ditz. My friends think it's funny when I forget their names...It scares the shit out of me. I do weird things to try to remember..like "laundry day" comes up because I've run out of clean underwear. There is no more rhyme or reason than that. It's a surefire indicator that I need clean clothes. I've also been diagnosed with clinical depression. I've had it since I was a kid. I've been trying to kill myself off and on since 9 years old (nothing in the last year thank goodness). So, it makes it a bit hard to not see past yourself when you hate yourself and your life. Perhaps to a certain extent she is right. But, how much of this is due to external circumstances and how much to excuses? And does it even matter? Either way is no justification. The fact of the matter is, I don't care either. I've tried being nice and the things I have done to attempt to show appreciation were never acknowledged or recognized. I understand that people show appreciation in different ways and sometimes the other person doesn't understand it for what it is because it is not their way. But, when you have to point out you were the one that drove someone to the ER and waited with them despite the fact you damned near have a hospital phobia; or that the time they slammed their ear in a car door you were the one to help stop the bleeding and pack it so they could go to the ER (I couldn't drive I was on muscle relaxants)...who fucking needs em. The main difference between her and I is that I can't fake liking someone. I had always given her the benefit of the doubt that she was just a crotchety old woman who must love me somewhere deep down inside...and if she wants to talk about selfish she should think of some of the things she did to me when I first came here. I already think I'm a horrible person, and maybe my friends do too. But, there have to be some redeeming qualities, otherwise they wouldn't let me invite myself over for dinner or accept and help me out at the rendezvous when I offer nothing but an inconvenience due to my inability to do a lot of basic things. So...as far as I am concerned...Grandma can fuck off...and the next time she needs to go to the hospital for a heart attack she had better remember why I am being the selfish little bitch that's handing her the cordless phone and going back to watch tv.