RouletteWeekend

@rouletteweekend
1–2 minutes
  • I guess I would Call that a Win

    I guess I would Call that a Win

    I was super pissed off for the last few days. Not for no good reason—I can think of about three dozen—but I’m normally much better at handling stress. This time, I felt desperate and unhinged, and I finally decided that if I want to get out of this house, I might have to be the… Read more

  • Or Maybe I’m Just Not Cut Out to Be a Caregiver

    Or Maybe I’m Just Not Cut Out to Be a Caregiver

    I thought I understood what it meant to care for someone. I raised kids. I learned, I adapted, I made mistakes, and somehow they turned out pretty damn amazing. But caregiving for someone with dementia feels nothing like parenting—and I’m beginning to wonder if I’m simply not cut out for it. Everyone tells you caregiving… Read more

  • A Tiny Piece of Me in the House Full of Ghosts

    A Tiny Piece of Me in the House Full of Ghosts

    Living with dementia is a strange kind of psychological experiment. Some days, everything feels almost normal. Other days, I find myself retreating upstairs just to protect a tiny piece of my sanity—and wondering how three people can live in the same house while inhabiting completely different realities. Read more

  • The (Impatient) Waiting Game

    The (Impatient) Waiting Game

    We are selling my mother in law’s house and we did not come upon the decision lightly. When we moved here, we came with two dogs ( a rottweiler and a German Shepherd), seven “stray” cats and a parrot. We couldn’t bring the cats to my mother in law’s house because they have HOA rules… Read more

  • Two Things Can Be True

    Two Things Can Be True

    I thought moving home to help care for someone I loved would be hard. I had no idea how hard—or how much it would change all of us. Seven months into caregiving, I’m learning that doing what’s best for someone else doesn’t mean losing yourself in the process. Read more

  • I Lost It Yesterday Over a Trash Can

    I Lost It Yesterday Over a Trash Can

    Yesterday, I finally hit the emotional wall I’ve apparently been sprinting toward for months. What started with dogs getting into the trash turned into rage, ugly crying in the car, wandering town looking for somewhere to escape, and the realization that caregiving stress and emotional exhaustion don’t always show up as sadness. Sometimes they show… Read more