Broken

I know we have not seen the worst of this ugly disease.  I remind myself of this daily.  “Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy and rough ride”… my mantra.

Yet, no amount of prep softens the blow of the next transition.

Today he hates me.  

I have never seen this amount of rage in him.  I can literally feel the disdain his brain has made reality.  

I have never been more broken…

Oddly enough, I recognize that this is just a repeat of the last time I felt this damaged by his behavior.  I will be here again, feeling as if it’s never been so horrible.  The tears will dry and the ugly words forgiven.

His routine has been altered.  Recent changes are simply too much for him to process.  He blames me.

“You know what you are doing”

“Stay away from me”

“Shut up”

All little daggers of shrapnel from his mental wounds.  The only weapons he has at his disposal.  They certainly carry some firepower.

Steps have been taken this week to prepare (somewhat prematurely because we don’t know what else to do) for a future where assistance is needed.  Another new med added to the mix.  Palliative care is not an option yet, as he is still able to do the basics for himself.  Between Hospice and The Alzheimer’s Foundation support line, we know we are doing all we can.

It’s not enough.  Where this disease is concerned, it will never be enough.  He will continue to hit points where his suffering cannot be remedied and his actions will teeter on the edge of possibly needing to protect him (and us) from himself.

He deserves so much more.  So much better.

Because tomorrow always promises an opportunity for both, the broken peices will be glued back together and we will try again.

Cheers💜