I'm failing you, Mom. I'm failing you with all I've got. It's like I made a new year's resolution this year, "Work harder on failing your mother," and apparently, I'm nailing it.
And I know you know it too.
When you look at me with disinterested anger, I know you know I'm failing you. When you scream at me in frustration, I know you know I'm failing you. When you close your eyes to block me out, I know. You know. I'm failing you.
I couldn't make you happy this Mother's Day. I took the lessons from last year's fiasco and scaled it down to just a day trip knowing you love long drives, knowing you would get to see The Other Girl, believing smiles could be achieved, and "I love you"s exchanged through small expressions of mutual joys. You slept through the beautiful scenery, you smiled and padded around after your other daughter, but then turned into a bundle of "No" for the remainder of the day with me. I failed you because I couldn't forgive you. In my mind your fear became stubbornness, your unease ingratitude. My brain, supposedly cognitively capable, turned petty, chose to misinterpret, chose to be offended.
The next day I was going to take you up north for another mother's celebration, and instead I dumped you on Mother Minder. I didn't want to be with you. I didn't want to be me when I'm with you. I didn't have the guts to fight through my failings, the courage to overcome what is becoming routine... "Shove her off on someone else, I can't handle it today."
I see my patience with you wane as other's charitableness surges. I see my compassion, full and complete when you are not by my side, drained and discarded when you are. I am mutating from a dementia champion to a draft dodger, looking for any chance to send another foot-soldier in my stead.
I wish you could "wake up" for even 5 minutes. I wish I could ask you if you felt something like this when I was an uncomprehending child, enraged with the inability to express myself - did you ever feel you were failing me? Is this normal in dependent caregiving situations? I want to ask you how do I do better now? How do I ease your terror, soothe your ferocity? How, Mom, do I stop being me failing you.
But mostly what I want to ask is...
Forgive me? Please, Mom, can you ever forgive me?
tlm - Does it help to know you're not alone? Sometimes it helps me knowing others out there are fighting the same feelings, and sometimes it don't make one bit of difference. But just in case it does, I feel 'ya... as the good days get less and less I'm slowly losing ground in this battle within myself. Here's to deep breaths, counting to 10, and copious amounts of wine after our dementia loved ones have finally gone to sleep. ;)
This is the first blog I've found that I can relate to. I can't comprehend how much worse the situation is, having my mother with dementia come to live with us. I go between hating her and feeling sorry for her - it's so awful and has affected not just me, but my husband and child. It's only been a few weeks and she's gone from "okay" when I'd see her on the weekends to "f--king crazy", incontinent, OCD, mumbling - angry. We tip toe around in the mornings so she doesn't wake up. I try to get her to sleep early. I feel like the worst person, but it's beyond me. I'm trying to find a rhythm, a consistency…
I hope your respite was relaxing and restful. I'm sure it was much needed and deserved!
Tracy, Debra, thank you for "getting it" and your words of sanity and comfort. I tell 'ya, your feedback and shared experience is crucial to me, and I'm already feeling a little more worthy of myself, and Mom. Thank you.
When I was in a similar situation with my mom, I poured it out on a caregiver support board, only to be met with, "Stop trying to make your mother happy," as if I were committing a horrible crime, so I won't say that kind of thing to you. All I can say is, "I understand." Making other people happy is part of our human nature (unless, of course, you are a genuine sociopathic narcissist who is incapable of caring about anyone's feelings but your own, and I'm sure that's not the case!) Maybe we are just flawed human beings trying so hard to keep from failing that we are, indeed, doing just that.
Enjoy your time off. It's well…