Well tonight has been what can only be described as hellish. I could have quite happily packed my bags and roamed the streets.
It all started because nan had gone upstairs. I hate this when I go out so it’s one of our three golden rules. I was feeling on edge and so didn’t handle it as well as I should have. I know it’s my fault and I let rip. dementia nan was attacking me with all the ‘you make me feel like a prisoner’ ‘I don’t need you here, what do you I couldn’t?’
There are things I think sometimes in my darkest moments. Things I don’t tell anybody. Things I always hoped nan never knew. But I flipped. And told dementia nan that I wasn’t sure why I had put my life on hold for her, nobody else had or would. That if it wasn’t for me she’d be in a care home by now. And that sometimes I think she’d be better off there as she’s so miserable with me. That it wasn’t choice that sent me to her and I didn’t have to keep doing it. And that’s when nan can back. And burst into tears.
And because I’m so awful that just made me feel crosser. So I had to leave the room.
I was sick of constantly worrying about dementia nan and her feelings. I wanted to wallow in mine. So I ended up stewing in my twisted, guilty messed up head and feeling worse.
I apologised and mum got involved. But things still feel on edge but maybe it’s me.
I don’t want people to think I’m a good carer who copes so well because I don’t think I am. Deep down I fear I’m becoming resentful, not only of nan but of all those I know who are getting to do what they want to do, living the lives they want.
I feel conflicted. I want to stick by nan. And I know this is just a blip. But how many more blips do I stick with before I leave the table?