Today has not been a stellar one, for either of us.
I know better, yet I still lost it, and that was dangerous. Arguing with Mom is never good, never was even when I was a kid, but it has added danger when she is nearing 93, and not in great health. It sets a tone, that is hard to eliminate.
One can perhaps make the excuse that it is just nerves, that the daily grind is taking its toll, but you know, so what? That shouldn’t be an excuse, because the ramifications are severe. Her voice became thick, slurred, the lower lip quivering and drooping. NOT GOOD!
And yet, it leaves a sort of exhaustion, that just won’t seem to go away. It impacts the entire mental outlook, for us both. Factor in the daily hassles of life, of dealing with uncaring support like Beacon or VIHA and it can be overwhelming. The bottom line is, I have to be smarter, have to contain my own anxieties, my own needs, to insure arguments don’t happen, no matter the provocation, or perceived provocations.
I need to weigh each word spoken in answer, and to weigh how to convey delays in getting her what she is fixating on. Like the shaving, that has now progressed to shaving, rather than creams.
I also need to get it into my thick head, that things won’t get easier, that right now is the best I can expect, and that the future, holds more stress than this. I have to accept that death is coming for her, and that my words can either hasten it, or delay it. AND DELAY IT, IS WHAT I WANT.
This is caregiving 101, and yet easy to say, easy to even write, but damn, it is hard to put into action, day in, day out, minute by minute. Yet that is what you have to do, and let’s be honest. Support is fleeting, even from those who love you. It is UP to you, and YOU ALONE.
The reality of this all, is that it is a war of attrition, and one hopes that they will be the victor. At times, I have to admit, that I feel like I am losing that war, or that even if I do succeed in holding it together, to the end, the aftermath of it will leave me useless.
These are the thoughts, the feelings that tear at me daily, nightly, 24/7 and the truth is, it won’t get better. How to fight it? I wish I knew, I wish there was an answer, but I suppose all there is, is to struggle forward, to get up each morning, and hope for a bit of peace.