Cursed Blessings

 I have often commented about how painfully aware Randy is about his illness, quietly wishing he were oblivious to that knowledge.  Those quiet wishes sometimes have an odd way of coming true.  

Blessing?  Curse?  Alzheimer’s always seems to be a twisted blend of both.

Almost daily, he now asks me what he has.  When will it go away, how did he get it, why would his Mom pass something so terrible to him, what does the diagnosis mean, etc…

Every time he asks, l search my mind for better answers.  As if a new response will stick in his dying brain.  The answers don’t have to be correct, they simply have to calm his confusion.

His newfound ignorance to his circumstances do not bring me comfort, as I hoped it would.  I thought that relieving his anguished, painful knowledge of the truth would be one of the blessings I was searching for.  I was wrong.

Don’t get me wrong, less emotional pain for him is a wonderful thing.  I want that relief for him.  He no longer tortures himself fearing his impending death.  He no longer weeps for his circumstances.  He no longer wishes for death in those moments when the weight of what’s coming overwhelms him.  These are his blessings.

It is my curse.  Because the more he loses mentally, the more I scream on the inside.  The more I dread the next progression.  The more I ache for a normal life.  The more I try to escape how bad it’s going to get.

My days consist of going to work and then coming home to this man who loves me as much today as he did on the day we married, while my love for him is still forever but altered.  He awaits my arrival eagerly and wants every second of my existence until he closes his eyes at night.  

I am grateful and lucky to have help but, it’s still exhausting and I find myself in self-care survival mode.  When he is not home, I leave.  The confines of home have become a prison, from which I need freedom. Freedom from responsibility, care-giving and mothering.  Free to be a woman, a friend, an adult.  Free to do what I want, when I want with no explanation. My curse.

Does my home get neglected?  Yes.         

Am I neglecting some of the important people in my life? Yes.        

Am I causing people to worry about my well being?  Yes.  

My curse.

To those who worry, know I love you.  Please don’t fret.  I am ok.  I am merely surviving.  I will continue to take these moments to put myself first.  For my sanity. To retain the parts of me that will be left when this journey is over.  For those parts of me carry my future.

So I will continue trying to preserve some sense of myself in order to be more of a blessing for him.

Cheers♥️