if life gives you apples

Oh, my god, I had no idea how alone and helpless I felt until I saw the comments. Only a couple, but wow, they rocked my world. I really don't have a whole lot of people to talk to about this caregiving crap. Most caregivers I've met either act like they are, or actually ARE so happy to be there, 100% of the time, no regrets, no guilt. I am happy to be of service, after all my mom deserves a lot from us. But, I am tired, cranky, sad, depressed, and overwhelmed too. An hour off doesn't revive me the way it used to. Knowing her love doesn't revive me the way it should, either. I appreciate it, but think I'm too tired. And my back hurts. And my "regular" friends tell me to just hide out, not answer the calls, whatever. Do I need to do that? What if doing that puts her in danger?

Thank you for the camping ideas. In fact, I'll tell you my secret fantasy of running away from "home" and living in an apple orchard in the middle of nowhere. My practical side wants the apple orchard, because then, after resting for a week, I can give in to my entrepreneurial side and start to make and sell apple cider for a living. I'll have a little stand at the end of the road on Saturday mornings. The rest of the time I'll lay on my back in the orchard, watching the sky, feeling no guilt, and occasionally creating a masterpiece work of art that will fulfill my spiritual needs and also sell for enough money to get the whole apple cider business going. We'll have internet access but no telephone. Once or twice a month we'll drag ourselves into the city, where we'll fill up on books, paint, yarn, food, and other necessary supplies.

It'll be great, you'll see.

For now, the problem is that I'm feeling a lot of anger, almost dare I say it, hate even, for a certain member of the family. No, not the ill one who I call mom. Another member of the family has earned my wrath. Yes, sweet me also is feeling that H word toward this family member, in a way I haven't felt since 4th grade, when Rabbit stole my stocking cap and threw it over the school yard fence, all they while taunting me with chants of "Kerrie Kerrie Hairy Kerrie, went to school with armpits that were hairy..."

(Never mind his lack of poetics, I still remember it, so it must have been traumatic.)

Anyway, this individual is being shunned by me, but said individual doesn't notice it. This individual does not come when mom calls, does not roll her or straighten her when she can't move. Does not feed her or water her or treat her kindly. Or at least indifferently. No, indeed, this individual has been known to YELL at mom because she is sick, tells her she won't be getting better, tells her that her that he (oops, I mean, that he/she) will send her to a nursing home. At what point does that kind of behavior become abuse? And what on earth can *I* do about it? Nothing? Probably.

Not OK. It seems to get worse when I try to make a little tiny saran wrap thick boundary and spend a minute or two sleeping, watching TV, reading, knitting, drinking beers with Scott, or anything else that is not Taking Care of Mom. I get cranky when I can't sleep. But, mom calls me in the middle of the night, stuck, and Said Individual, although he/she is within ten feet of her room, will not come. Why. Why. Why. So I have to go rescue her from the crisis of the hour.

I'm sorry to have made this into a rantfest. I'll come up with something fun to post about next time. Like my recipe for roasted apples! I'll make you some of you get to visit me at the apple orchard. Be nice, and I'll tell you where to find it, and give you a bottle of cider to take home with you.