||[Mar. 4th, 2015|09:55 am]
Barely a day goes by when I don't find myself thinking, "I can't carry on doing this." And then I think, "But of course I can".|
Cue marching music....
Rum-tum-ti-tum-tum, rum-tum-ti-tum-tum, rum-tum-ti-tum.
Well, that is the English way, isn't it?
I don't know how you do it. My heart goes out to you.
Stiff upper lip, think Buddhistic thoughts...
I tell myself I only have to carry on until I win the lottery, or die.
I know I'm not going to win the lottery but I'm hugely comforted by the thought of death.
It's all illusion, anyway.
I know it's are to remember that when it's your mom, though. :-(
It helps that I was never that close to my mother. After all, I ran away from my parents- and their world- as soon as I feasibly could. It's hard but it could be a lot harder.
Caregiving burns everyone out, over and over again. But what else can we do if we take duty and compassion seriously? We just keep going.
That's right. There is no alternative- or at least not one I could live with.