It's been a weird couple of days. Mom is sleeping more, eating less and didn't want to get in her wheelchair at all this week. She is tired and sore and confused. She sleeps almost all day day and eats almost nothing. The nurse and two aides came today, and I told them how much she had eaten and slept lately. Anne, the nurse, said she was "concerned" about the amount of confusion Mom has, and Margarita got glassy eyed and said something about "when she declines" she would cry a lot. I told her I had cried all the day before.
I am scared of how I will handle things in the future. I already feel on the brink "losing it" most of the time.
I'm also supposed to go on a weekend trip soon- one I have had planned since December- and already I am super scared of leaving Mom and Furly for four days. I am freaking out.
I still can't sleep that well, I am drinking like a fish and wish I could get more of that Xanax my friend brought to me: if I didn't have "responsibilities" I would be F-ing up a lot more than I am. I would be looking for the kind of trouble I don't usually look for. Again, I am scared about how I will be acting before too long.
Furly dreams of dead babies filling the lake, and I dream of packing up to run away but never quite getting there.
I want to be good and do right, and I am just scared, and so is Furly. At least I am not alone in all of this. He loves Mom as if she were his own. I am so grateful for him and for the time I have with Mom.
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