I spent most of the day with her. She told me what a great job I’m doing. I gave her meds and food. Made sure she was hydrated. We picked out a nicer hospital gown for special occasions. After dinner, she turned.
I walked into her room noticing the TV was paused. I talked to her and tried to get the remote and she panicked.
“DON’T TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME!”
Another rant.
I couldn’t take it. I said things in anger and she got worse.
I reentered the room and she said the most awful things to me. About me. “I will never trust you again.” That was ten minutes ago. She’s still going off. About her delusions, but it doesn’t matter.
I came downstairs, still hearing her shouts, and cried. I put on 27 Dresses even though I just watched it again last weekend. I have a whole irrational feeling about weddings and wanting to be in one, but it never works out for me. I’m feeling like nothing works out for me except misery.
That’s as emo as I’ll get but this is a hard life. At least she’s not walking around, throwing things, thrashing for about an hour. We’ve moved past that stage.
What’s left? I don’t know. No one knows how much time they have left and we’re supposed to be cherishing it, but to ask me to cherish this? Who wants to live a life where they’ll be randomly berated? And still have to go on caring for that person like nothing’s wrong? She’ll just forget the next day so it’s my problem to shoulder from now on.
I feel like no one wants to hear me talk about my life anymore but I can’t stop. The pain is transformative and I don’t yet know who I’m becoming but I want to be heard. So listen if you care. You might be the only one, and God knows she isn’t hearing me, but I won’t stop sharing the hardships and maybe the joys.
I’m still going to buy her a pretty hospital gown this week, but tomorrow, I’m taking time off from her. I need it.
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