Once I made the decision and called the home to put my mom on the list, I immediately felt relieved. I feel that there's an end in sight to my care giving for my demented mother.
Facing my mom's insanity, day in and day out for nearly 3 years has worn me down. I can never win with my mom, when I say something is white, she'll say it's black. No is her answer to everything. It's upsetting to always be wrong even when stating facts like the sky is blue. "No it isn't" my mom will reply.
I am praying extra hard, praying for a bed to open up soon.
My mom went to bed last night at 7:30 PM. At 8:30 PM she was up, fully dressed and ready to go somewhere. Not sure where, but for the last few days she's been wanting to "go home." Nothing here is familiar to her and she is looking at me as her jailer. It's a struggle that I don't want to be involved because any answer I give her is wrong.
She woke again during the night at 1:30 AM and again at 5:30 AM, looking for a way out.
"Please tell me how to get out of here. I want to go home." My mom said to me as I greeted her at the top of the stairs.
I haven't had to deal with the statement, "I want to go home" in a few months. I was able to keep her feeling secure but now, she knows that I'm finding her a home and she's back to being insecure again. I wonder if she can feel that I've given up as her full time care giver? Without help, I can not continue on this care giving path, I am done.
Inside of myself, I feel different. I feel myself become less attached to my mom. I have to let her go. My cousin Maryann explained my situation in a way that sums it all up... "Sue, you are way past your expiration date as a Care Giver."
I am. I want this nightmare to end. The ups and downs of caring for my mom with very little help is having a negative affect on my health. I don't feel good. If I don't feel well, how can I be a good care giver? I can't.
I do have advice for Care Givers who believe that they will never put their loved one in a home. Never say never. I was one who didn't believe in nursing homes. My fear of nursing homes was born when we visited our Grandmother and Aunt Flo in the mental institution in 1968 or 1969. I was about 8 or 9.
The battle ship gray walls, the fence over the TV that hung high from the ceiling, the cages that the patients were put... all of these images frightened me and caused me to form my opinion of nursing facilities when I was very young and impressionable.
Now, I feel like I am caged in my own home. I am not free to live my life. I cry a lot. I am way past my expiration date for care giving.