It’s been a bit more than a week since Jackie got home from her trip off the cliff and deeper into dementia. She’s recovered some and the home care person seems great but I’m still wound tighter than tolerable.
I haven’t slept well, wake up too early and start out tired before the day begins. Xanax helps me sleep but one read of the potential addictive properties makes me really nervous before I lift that tiny little pill.
I’ve tried mindfulness (a mental state achieved by focusing one’s awareness on the present moment, while calmly acknowledging and accepting one’s feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations, used as a therapeutic technique ) but the only thing that happened was that I realized how tense and anxious I was from the tip of my big toes to the roots of my hair – scalp included.
I was up and out early at Wegman’s at 6:30 AM to have coffee and read a bit then pickup a few things for the weekend when I realized what was happening. I was so intent of making things go as right as I can that I was trying way too hard – and getting upset when things inevitably didn’t work out.
Arguing with Jackie for 30 minutes about taking her meds and getting upset or nagging her to get her into a shower – all of that just contributes to my anxiety.
I cannot do it all and make everything all right.
It isn’t all right – and it won’t be.
I resolve to do my best both to get the stuff done and to drop it when it doesn’t happen.
I am doing some simple things to try to take other mental burdens off.
Rather than scribbling to-do lists in a notebook – which never works for me because I forget where I left the notebook or I can’t read my own writing or I forget to move something that didn’t get done – I am trying a task list application that I can update from my PC or my phone. That way I can stop trying to remember things and maybe take a few revs off the whirling brain.
There is lots of food in the house so finding stuff for meals is a breeze, there are several tasks that are simple but have been bottlenecks and I feel a bit organized.
Although the Xanax vial is still in my dresser, it no longer calls to me from where it is muffled in my sock drawer.
January 8, 2017
This has been an interesting and tough week. Every day a new personality emerges. She hates the caregiver, she likes the caregiver and hates me, she’s cooperative and sweet or she’s totally uncooperative. I think the caregiver pays her too much attention so I’ll suggest she just backs off and checks on her routinely.
Luckily my Xanax prescription is up to date.
She absolutely refuses to go to the doctor unless she thinks she needs to (I think that’s what she means) – and who knows when that will happen. But I’ll try to sit with her and make appointments this week.
She refuses help in the shower and is damn unpleasant about it.
Today she slept from 10 last night until 11 this am, ate breakfast and then slept again until just now. She seems to be missing those periods of clarity she showed before and she seems really depressed.
There’s no way to sneak a new pill in, she made a fuss when I changed brands of aspirin and they were different color.
I’m going along, not triumphing, just making it.