Our lady of perpetual tiredness

I guess this week will continue to be about my care-giving experience.

I have mentioned the tiredness before (pretty often, I think). I have quite likely mentioned how it is frustrating to not have energy for all of the things that I want to do and think I need to do.

This is not about the respite time. When I go longer without respite, I may very well get more tired, but what I notice more is the growing feeling of hopelessness and that there is nothing good in life. The tiredness is its own thing. It is frequently accompanied by a low-grade headache in the back of my head that is probably not a tumor. The headache isn't always there, but the tiredness is. 

As I was feeling some of that frustration recently, I had to firmly associate it with my mother's condition.

That was probably helped by noticing that my sisters are also more tired than they should be, generally speaking. It occurred to me that some of that is the emotional toll of the disease that is sometimes referred to as the never-ending death.

There is that, and it is for all of us, but then for me there is being the first to notice each new loss, and there is a physical toll as there is always more to compensate for, and a mental toll of trying to find ways to make things better. There is even a nervous toll from all of the interruptions that come just as I settle down to get one thing done.

I had a manager once who would come over two aisles to my cube every time any little idea or question came into his head. I talked about saving things up, and maybe we could schedule regular time to go over those things, but it never really sunk in, and he would come over again. He was a profoundly dishonest, greedy, and petty person, but that was still the worst part of working for him. The difference is that I never loved Rick, and I love my mother deeply.

So recently when I was feeling this insuperable tiredness, I felt that it would be with me for the rest of my mother's life. Though I will not miss it, I will miss her.

Because of that, I realized that I could consecrate my tiredness for her. When I feel it weighing me down, I can feel a warmth of affection for her, and the good things about still having her and being able to do things with her and for her.

That does not make me less tired, but it does make me feel differently about it, and better.

It's something.