Friday, September 2, 2005

 

For the second time this week...

...I'm having problems with a highly acid stomach. It's been years, almost a decade and a half, since I've had this type of problem. Even when I was going crazy with caretaking and menopause a couple of years ago I wasn't having stomach problems. It's easy enough to handle with OTC stuff and baking soda in water (gag me, but it works) but I know it's a symptom of an underlying emotional reaction. It surprised me tonight because I groveled my way through an apology to my mother and The Little Girl for my behavior last night. I even told my mother why I felt so terribly bad about it; that it echoed Dad's worst behavior when he was drunk.
    I thought about it today and realized that we are also coming up on my two favorite seasons, fall and winter, which, when I used to live alone were also my most productive seasons. Whether they've been so since I've been caring for my mother, well, I'm not sure about this. What I do know is that last year, while very productive, I also "went on vacation" for almost three months, ignoring the holidays, not badgering my mother and thus letting her do pretty much as she pleased, which was fine with her but which also meant I didn't get her moving much and didn't shake her out of her usual cold weather sleeping binge. I still harbor very uncomfortable memories about that period. At the same time, though, I can feel those same desires creeping up on me again. Knowing me, there's a good chance I'll give into them, yet I can feel a part of me fighting the urge because of the guilt I continue to retain from doing this last year. As well, that "ashing over" feeling is now hitting me pretty frequently. I think it's because I feel the peculiar pull these two seasons have for me while simultaneously knowing that any extra time I put into my own stuff also means time and attention (although not my physical presence) stolen from my mother. It has also occurred to me that maybe she looks forward to these seasons precisely because I don't badger her to move and I don't tend to launch into "if you don't use it you lose it" lectures.
    I need to calm myself, though, get a grip. The last thing I need or want is stomach problems. They're such a fucking pain in the gut.
    I ordered some books today that I'm hoping will help me gain some perspective on my mother's final years, even if her death is still well below the horizon, which I suspect it is. The books (quotes about books taken from Amazon) are:    The books aren't due to arrive for a couple of weeks so I won't even be getting around to reading them for awhile. I told Mom about them, why I ordered them and she's interested in reading them, too. How lucky I am to be caring for An Ancient One who has an unflinching attitude toward life and death. My guess is that most intense caregivers to Ancient Ones aren't nearly as lucky as this, although I may be wrong. Someone, someday, ought to do research on us and our charges.

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