Opening Up A Can Of Worms
When I created The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver I didn’t do it with the thought of becoming one thing or the other. I started it to just be doing something, anything. The isolation that is my constant companion through this life had gotten so deafening that I could no longer hear myself think. The voices inside my head were just screaming to escape and the only thing I could do was whisper into a pillow. Until I started this blog and since then it’s become my homemade version of some kind of therapy. I’m not really sure what kind, but there were enough issues that any would probably fit the bill.
I’ve always had this problem of worrying too much of what people think of me. I say I don’t, but I really do and I’m pretty sure we all do to some degree even if we are just deluding ourselves. Anyway, I have enough issues without knit picking yours. I don’t like that about me. You know I’ve never said that out loud either. Maybe the reason is because I’m always whispering. Afraid to interrupt or God forbid bother someone or make waves. You know someone who blends in so well that they are often forgotten altogether. The kind of person who has such low self-esteem that she just wants to agree with everyone so no one gets angry at her and then it turns out that nobody remembered her in the first place.
How do we become molded into the person we are today. Is it environmental and blowing across our features like a cold Canadian wind that seeps through your clothes deep into your bones. Pressure from family, careers, and lifestyles bending and beating us into the submissive, bland people who keep the world revolving in an orderly fashion because we ALWAYS follow the rules and never deviate from the plan. Aren’t they usually the ones who crack up first? I sure as hell don’t want to be that person.
So I think I’ll start a blog that’s what I said. That way I can figure out who the heck I am because honestly at 44(then) I have no effen clue who I am and that scares me worse than anything ever has in my life. I’m so bland and pathetic that even I have forgotten(or more than likely never known) who I am. That’s where I started tonight. I don’t know where it’s coming from exactly, but forgive me for letting it slither out to see if the coast is clear for a littlele while. I’m 46 now and I’ve been writing here for almost 3 years and I still have no idea who I am. I’ve not gotten any closer to figuring it out because I forgot! What about me makes me so easy to forget?
I let Alzheimer’s take the lead because being a positive caregiver was a whole lot easier than being a middle-aged woman with a whole lot of baggage and a bad back. Is it because maybe I don’t like who I am and I’m afraid that if I pull up the blinds that maybe you won’t like me either? Now, that’s going to take some thought, but if I don’t know me how can you know me and some of you know more about me than anyone ever has. Is it because I never give out clues or is it because what’s there is nothing of substance.
How do you figure out who you are if you don’t know how? Seriously, I’m not looking for sympathy or anything like that I just want to have a real conversation about things that I have no clue about. We’re all in the same boat, but it seems like most of you got a fish finder with yours and I got an anchor. Can I get an exchange or a refund? An owner’s manual would help even if it is in Chinese or something. The one thing that is propelling me forward is knowing that besides my husband and even he needs to buy a few vowels, there isn’t one person in this world who knows the real me and I can’t tell you how suddenly alone that feels.
At 46, I have to be about half way through this life, and let’s face it the way I’ve treated this body probably a lot more than half, but I just don’t want to go any further looking at a stranger in the mirror. For those of you needing some words of wisdom from one caregiver to another, I just don’t have any today and maybe I never did. I’m truly sorry about that. Maybe there’s a caregiver and a patient inside of each and every one of us and today I guess I’ll be the patient.
I think there will be more to this and if that is more than you can stand I understand. Remember I’ve been forgetting me for a whole lot of years and I can testify to how easy it is.