Here We Go Again

Yes, I've been gone for a while. No, not away from home (only a dream). I didn't take a vacation. Just spent a bit of time wallowing in self-pity. I reached a point lower than usual, and thought I was going to need a permanent change of venue. But, no other venue in town for me. I was happy to find out my sister was coming for a week's visit. So glad to have her here, she was always my rock and my mainstay, my touchstone. But, due to health issues of her own, she had not been here in more than 6 months.

So, she got to spend some time experiencing the joys of living in my world. She got to experience first-hand the wrath of both mom and dad. This was quite a jolt for her, as they have never behaved toward her the way they have with me over the past few years. She saw the hateful looks, got the nasty comments which grow into arguments, and saw the total inability to try to care for someone who doesn't understand what they need or their own incapacities, thereby rendering your efforts useless. My mother could out-argue an entire debate team. My father simply cannot understand the meaning of his Alzheimers. They combine into a lethal team of disbelief that they need help remembering what to do and why.

Back to my sister. Let's just say that by the end of the week, she decompensated in total pain and horror at what was said to her, and the realization that things have reached this point. She had no way to know where things stood, and therefore had questioned whether I was doing enough for them. I've been known to live my own life in the past and, in my family's eyes, be perhaps a bit selfish. Yes, it's true, but I chose to view this as not giving in to their idea of how to live my life. She had wondered if I just didn't want to do this job anymore, or if I was working hard enough to give them the right care. Although she never would have said this me, I suspected there might be some component of this. I couldn't blame her, because she couldn't truly know the situation after such a long absence. By the end of the week, she was apologizing profusely, and feeling twice a bad for having thought that way of me. Which, in turn, gave her more guilt about not being able to help with mom and dad. Her health problems mean that she can never care for them or take them into her home. That is devastating to her, as she had always thought that when the time came, this would be the natural progression. She has always been thisclose to our parents, and enjoyed them immensely.

Now things are different.

At least out of this comes more urgent thoughts about finding a safe place for them. My brother has wanted to bring them to Florida, where he lives, for quite some time, but they do not want to leave their house and go. We all know that they absolutely must, but no one has ever forced a decision on my parents (how can anyone?). He is now hearing the same thing from my sister and brother-in-law that he has been hearing from me, and is more aggressively pursuing this. How it will come about is not finalized, but it won't be pretty and we all know it. At least we are now all 3 working towards the same goal, and quickly. Wish me luck.

I doubt that many people will ever find this blog, so please understand that this is more of a journaling effort for me. I don't have many outlets at this point, and my mind is cluttered at times. I hope some day I will find the time to find myself again.

The name of groundhog day might need to be explained, for those of you who are not or have not been in this type of situation.

Each day is always different for both mom and dad. Each day is the always the same for me. I go through the same scenarios daily. Mom asks the same questions I answered yesterday, and seems so surprised to hear it all over. Dad has a very limited routine, deviations are almost catastrophic to him. I have to toe a very tight line to keep him on an even keel. At the same time, I never know what is going to come up between the two of them. Today, Mom found money in the living room chair where Dad usually sits. She showed it to him, and he grabbed it and took it from her. At which point, she reverted to her typical selfish and childish attitude, yelling that it was hers, she was entitled to her share of Social Security. Of course, she can't hear him talk to her, and he doesn't understand what she says to him. I, as always, try to referee them out of the conflict, to no avail. It seems of no consequence that she is never dressed or leaves the house to spend money, and that it must be his because that is where he sits. Boy oh boy, did I get in trouble for "taking up for him." Although this is a typical case, it is about something different every time, something that completely baffles my senses. I ended up walking away as usual, with at least some diffusion between them due to my intervention. These little interruptions in my work day exhaust me. I go back to the computer feeling confused, overwhelmed, and just tired.

The repetition of these things is what bothers me. The different things that come up are what confuse me. Anxiety is a constant companion. I have found Mom in her bed puffing on her nebulizer, when no medicine was put into it. Dad will fall asleep in the rolling kitchen chair, no telling when he will end up on the floor. Mother goes through the kitchen cabinets, taking things out to look at them, then walk away. Each night when I finish my 8 hours of transcription, I wind up in the kitchen cleaning up after them. I find all sorts of surprises that await me. I daily have to clean the toilet seat because Mom has made a mess. She goes in her diaper, and then goes to sit on the toilet and sits with a mess all over her bottom. Which usually ends up on the floor, too. Sounds trivial, I know, but for a woman who did not raise a large family, I am not used to working late into the night at housework.

The things that come up daily are very defeating. Finding the remote control. Looking for hearing aids (which are now lost forever). Explaining how the phone works, and then having to check it each time I go into the kitchen to make sure it is not off the hook, or lost. Explaining monthly statements that come in the mail, because even if I explained it yesterday, they would not remember.

I have realized that I cannot get out of this. This is what it is. As long as they live at home, it is going to be this way for me. Someone told me that at least there is light at the end of the tunnel. I replied, "But how long is the freakin tunnel?" No answer there.

Today I Begin

I take a leap forward in self realization. Today I begin to understand how much of myself I have lost, perhaps forever, in this journey I have undertaken. It seems two-fold actually, a leap forward and in an even larger sense, a leap backward in time. Backward in that I now seem resigned to accept the fact that I must, and probably already have, let go of many of my dreams and hopes, of seeing possibilities that might be, and actually facing that my first half century is gone forever. I can no longer think about the things that I want to do someday, because time is my enemy. My body ages and my mind is tired. Depression and sadness are my constant companions. My opportunities have slipped away while I was struggling with the actualities of the road I was on, making my choices with what seemed like little option for choosing another path. Wasted time while unsure of what I wanted to do. Being unsure when the right partner would come along, I chose randomly and ultimately paid the price of a failed marriage, single motherhood, facing economic ruin, and finite emotional resources to give my only crowning achievement, a beautiful son, what I hoped and always imagined for him. Facing the fact that he would now be an only child, now having a family of 2 instead of a house full of children, a loving partner, and valuable friendships. It seems so many of my decisions were less than optimal, and I now suffer with this realization and knowing how it is ultimately affecting my child and who he will become. I am sad for this in a way that goes deeper than any pain I ever imagined. So, hence, I call this a leap forward in self realization. I have now begun to accept these realities, resigned to this life that I call my own.

In dealing with this, I also come to realize that the task I have been given is monumental. I am overwhelmed by the inadequacies of my ability to care for 2 elderly parents. I simply don't have the resources within my soul to tackle the increasing needs for my time, my patience, my understanding, my love, and the fact that this is totally out of my control. I cannot make this get better. I have no choices, no options, no alternatives. My life is lost to myself. There are no joys singular to me, to be my own, to give me life and hope. The Alzheimer's robs a caregiver of that. The multiinfarct dementia ensures that nothing I do is quite right, good enough, or quick enough. The task of dealing with each of these conditions at the same time, between 2 parents, seems unsurmountable. My work suffers, my paycheck suffers, and now faced with the fact that I cannot afford to live anywhere but with my parents seems unconscionable at the age of 54. Their diseases rob them of the understanding that they need to live in a care facility, with many people and resources to give them a happy life. Robs them of the understanding that they can afford it. So, with 2 older siblings who live elsewhere and have led happy, successful lives, raising several children and now having grandchildren, who cannot easily or willingly come to help, I take on the task I always knew would be mine, the one to be the caregiver, in a home I have always hated to return to. Guilt and resentment runs deep in this house, within its walls, and I have no choice but to swallow it whole. The emotional support I receive from my siblings is invaluable, but lately it is not enough to keep me from falling into this dungeon of realizing my own limitations, my lack of options, and my lack of hope for any life of my own. So, in effect, I wallow in my self pity alone, with no outside contacts for support because I have no time to go outside the home to have any friends. Nothing to give to friends, so it doesn't seem prudent to try to become a friend to someone new. I hear that God doesn't give us more than we can handle, but God is not a part of this life of mine. I find it a bit presumptive to believe in something that has never had a place in my mind or heart. I wish I had the unwavering belief, that comfort that religion gives to so many, but it simply is not a part of my understanding.

I turn now to something that I don't exactly understand, this blogging thing, but I do believe in journaling, and as I don't write by hand anymore, I find it will be much easier to try this. Let this be a new beginning at easing my soul and perhaps find a small amount of comfort. Everyone needs to let their thoughts out, but some of us do not have any other outlet except anonymity of cyberspace. This is not meant to be a cry for help to anyone out there, but just an outlet for myself. It truly is no one else's concern with what has happened in my life. I welcome you to read if you must be a voyeur, and of course, if you feel like offering a comment, I would be overjoyed to hear from even a stranger, as it seems that is all I know in my life anyway.

There, I feel better already.