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© 2014 Scott Strange, Strangely Diabetic and

I just want some solitude. Really, that’s all I want right now.

And to stay in bed, to not have to get up, to not face today in the world. But what I really want is to be left alone and that definitely won’t happen if I don’t get out of bed. Who the eff am I kidding? It won’t happen anyway, not ever, not in a live-in care-giving environment.

This had become the nature of my life: frustration, anger, sadness and guilt of having these feelings.

But, as with all things, that to has passed only to be replaced with a void. Depression. A big spot of empty. That’s all I seem to remember, all I see coming. It is so hard to function in any reasonable manner. I see things I need to do and I just say no. That no gives me some miniscule control in this chaos that my life has become. It feels good for a second before I get guilty over being lazy, worthless, wiping out that moment of control. So, I do it again. And again. And again.

I have been a live-in care-giver for over three years now. Three years of no true place of my own, or privacy, or … But mom is still with us, those end-of-life and hospice discussions becoming distant memories, her quality of life is so much higher than it would be if I wasn’t here. But the guilt I feel is fresh in my mind. There are so many things that I ‘know’. Like  it’s normal for me to feel some resentment, anger at putting life on hold. No matter how much I love mom and am glad that I have been here, those emotions are there and bring guilt with them. Another thing in life that I have no control over.

It’s draining, it’s emptying, yet I need to stay in this. There is no other viable choice. No choice, no control, just trapped. Caught in a snare of my own making.

Enough hyperbole, my coping mechanisms aren’t working well any more and I’m starting to lose the ability to even try any new ones.

© 2014 Scott Strange, Strangely Diabetic and

  • I wish I had some magic words to help you. But I can tell you I care and it hurts to see you hurting. Love and hugs to you.

  • rpederse

    Friend, I’m really sorry.

  • I feel your pain, brother. I was there for a few years myself, with both my parents at the same time, as they leap-frogged toward the endgame we all arrive at sometime.

    The only bright spot I can offer is that at the end of the road you’re currently on is a sharp sorrow, accompanied by a remarkable level of un-guilt. In other words, you’ll get a payoff in the form of a remarkable lightness of spirit, knowing you did what you did.

    I’m grateful for all of it, particularly the last part. My ‘rents parting gifts, if you will ..