Today I felt more human. Cleaned windows, went to doctor, showered mother all before noon. I had Mom put on Depends today. Heartbreaking. Luckily she did not notice. Or didn’t at the time. I’m pretty sad about it as it is another sign of decline. But no crying. It was a good day.
Another anti-depressant added. Placebo effect today.
I didn’t recover well from a family issue or rather conflict this morning. It left me in bed for the entire day. I heard each hour strike on the clock. I had both cats on the bed with me. We all know how cats like to “help” by ignoring your problems and walking all over your torso. Days are long but went by fast on one of the so called nicest days of the year I spent inside laying on my bed staring up at the fan. Pip would come in and say “heeeeeeeeyyyyy” but would walk out unsatisfied by my lack of attention. I heard my mother yell at her a few times but I couldn’t get up to check on what happened or if it was serious. Cry and cry. Apologizing to people I felt I wronged. Saying ‘I’m sorry over and over wasn’t curing it. Or making me stop crying. Check back later and see if I’d dried up and not quite yet. I managed to get up and take many headache remedies a never ending ache booming through my eyes and head. I wished the person I sleep next to at night was here. Phone calls emails nothing fixed the tears. I managed to make a some what healthy dinner of beans and tomatoes but wasn’t satisfied. Sometimes years go by and I don’t cry. Then it hits and I cannot be summoned to do anything. It’s embarrassing. It’s ridiculous. Nothing makes me stop. I wished for my mom. To make her make me feel better. A hug, a chest to lay my head on. Understanding. I thought the worst because I didn’t want to feel this way anymore. Ever again. Those forbidden feelings creep in. And thoughts of not seeing Pipi full grown didn’t sway me. I just want it all over. This scares me. Don’t want to feel that way again.
This is the day where:
I woke up on my stomach. Cue extreme lower back pain that takes my breath away.
Brew coffee. Mom and I look at Martha’s July issue to get ideas for dinner. I see many ideas and become excited. I really need a cup of coffee before I can der Start this Thursday.
Allow Pipi back into the house.
Remove her puppy collar to find the one summer collar of Meg’s I’m willing to allow her to use. I open the plastic container marked ‘Meg’s collars’ to find the brand new Autumn collar she never wore. Cue excessive eye lubrication and temporary loss of breathing.
I lay in my bed allowing Stella to console me or pet her. I look at the frameless (The person I share my bed with became so angry she slammed my Mother’s bedroom door and I heard shattering glass. The frame broke around this photo.) picture of Meg from her first trip to the beach laying on the sand. I gather a stack of Meg photos I keep on my night stand and the beach photo. I have become inspired to print digital photos and place them in frames.
I go to the basement but cannot remember why. Standing while looking around my eyes fixate on something. What is it? I realize it’s Meg’s duck we bought for Valentine’s day. I sit on the bed petting Nova and Stella allowing them to console me.
I start a load of towels and remember I came to the basement to get out meat to defrost. I take out a whole chicken. I take out some ground beef. I decide to make grandma’s chicken and clean out a bucket to soak it.
I go upstairs sniffling.
Both sides of the sink are full. There isn’t a place for the meat. Start dishes. See mom standing in kitchen. Give her pills, juice, Kefir, muesli, flax, blueberries. I make the same for myself. Wash dishes.
Become annoyed.
Wanted some time to read while sipping my coffee, I fantasize.
Time for shower. Mother nearly enters with clothes on. I correct her. Shampoo and condition. Washrag with soap. She’s rinsing.
Return to kitchen. Find Pip’s footprints from waterbowl to foyer to porch. I open the backdoor wider to find an enormous puddle of urine. I find Pipi without a collar and carry her outside. Excessive eye lubrication and loss of breathing becomes the norm. I wipe up some of the urine but some is between the door and step to go outside. It’s hidden within the cracks. It’s as close to being outside without being outside. I feel sad knowing I watched her drink a lot of water in the minutes I woke up. I should have been more vigilant.
Mopping. My glasses slide down my nose and mom is still in the shower. I wash my hands and stop the water. I hand her her towel. I find Nova smelling the bleach on the floor. Writhing…. I get out the floor mop. I spray bleach and water down the foyer into the porch. I mop. I blow my nose. I let tears drop to the damp floor.
Back to mom: I scratch her sunburn to show her where to rub in the lotion. She says ow. Loss of breathing. I grab underwear, bra, pants I guess. I realize I cannot deal with putting her deodorant away. In the sink it goes.
She’s dressed now. I have given her a Kleenex for her dripping nose. I put toothpaste on her electric tooth cleaner. A glob drips off. I spill Listerine.
I just have to get back to my bed where I can ___ in peace. with Stella and Nova. I slam doors but none of this satisfies. I take one moment. I hear an odd noise. Mother cannot find where the top to the Listerine goes. I enter the bathroom and her toothbrush is running even though she’s no longer in the bathroom. In her broken speech and frustration she says ‘that’s not my …. ‘
‘I know. I know. I will take the blame.’
I walk into the kitchen, sip my cold coffee. Find my breakfast near the backdoor. My cats are bleach junkies and have knocked over the mop in their attempts to roll and twist plaster the bleach on their fur. I finish my breakfast. I still do not have a place for the meat to defrost.
Grab my breakfast bowl and in my haste it drops into the sink shattering into a billion shards.
Vacuuming now. It seems to not pick up the glass well enough for tiny petite animal padded paws to walk on.
Meat will have to be cooked to unfreeze. I stir. I go back to desk. I come back to sip coffee an stir. I see Pipi walloping through the living room with a piece of cardboard. Except it’s not. It’s the photo of Meg’s first time at the beach. Now with teeth marks from a pup.
I go back to stir splashing grease on the stove. ‘GODFUCKINGDAMNIT’ is all I can utter. I try to get a grip and look up at the temporary unease, despondency, therapeutic regimens I recently abandoned.
I restrained myself and counted the days before my appointment.
I never finished my coffee.
An extremely generous person from the Caregiver’s Support group I faithfully attend twice a month invited the person I share my bed with, Pip, and me to swim, eat, and converse with her family and friends today. I declined.
Blame the aggravation of general malaise. I couldn’t explain to her the truth: We spend the 4th bellowing while watching A Capitol Fourth with Jimmy Smits on PBS.
I prefer to watch the national fireworks in the comforts of my living room, tissue box nearby, reliving the several times we watched them in person. >SOB<
missU D.C. missU stinky Potomac missU Iwo Jima Memorial 
I recently stopped taking one of my prescribed anti gloom medication. It’s been three days. So far I can feel my eye muscles moving inside of my head. It’s not a nice feeling. I do not think this is a side effect.
Heart sick and filled with doom thinking what will occur since Meg is now gone. I lay awake staring up at the ceiling once my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Fires, broken garage doors, Dementia wanderers, car accident her body plummeting towards the windshield, and and and and and and.
These were not pleasant thoughts to have before shutting my eyes and entering REM. I slept in irresponsibly. By the time I finished coffee it was already getting crepuscular.
And that was Sunday.
Nova: I’m depressed. Do you ever wonder where you would be if you weren’t here now? The world is falling apart, my life is basically over, and I want to kill myself.
Meg: You have much to live for.
Nova: Are you saying you’re not depressed?
Meg: The truth is, I basically hate anyone who says they’re ‘happy’. About anything, pretty much. Not to mention I don’t believe them in the first place. I mean, I guess it’s possible to be happy, but the only time I’m really happy is when I’m talking about how unhappy I am.
Scary images from Japan today. Tsunami warnings in Hawaii and on the West coast of the U.S. Catastrophic images from Japan from the earthquake and tsunami are indescribable. My heart goes out to all.
A photo for the very first meteorological day of Spring. These people find nothing wrong with plugging in their Christmas tree on the first of March. My laptop has burnt out and because of a lack of funds I have not attempted to get it fixed. On the up side I’ve read two books.
Found out I qualified for my dream job. Only to be told they went with someone else. Now I feel like eating myself to death. Just kidding. Not really. LOLz. H8 u dream job stealer.
– Stella