It's your fault because she knows something is wrong, but she doesn't have a way to fix it. It's your fault because you are her fantastic, brilliant, strong and clever daughter who sorts things out. You are the daughter who shops and cooks and cleans and keeps her safe and organises everything. You are so great, yet this thing is still wrong and you haven't fixed it. You sort everything, but not this, why not, you do everything?
We all know the reality is that this is beyond anything any of us can fix, one day it will happen a cure will be found please God, but not today. It's not your fault, none of this, but she loves you and you are so close to her and you get it in the neck every time, you are fair game in faulty dementia logic.
I know these things because I have been there before you. My mum has alzheimer's (and possibly vascular dementia) because I worked full time and left her alone in the house whilst I worked it was my fault she got ill. I was selfish and mum paid the price for my selfishness by getting ill. That was my mum's accusation to me and it hurt like the very devil, to a degree it still does. It was so unreasonable, but she couldn't see it. Dementia played with her logic and reasoning and took the break off of her mouth so that whatever was in her head was vocalised. Come to that she also told me she never wanted me as a child and didn't want me now. That one still wounds.
We both know we should ignore the bad bits, the wanton damage of the roses, the hurtful words, the temper tantrums (my mum) and everything else, but we are human, words and actions hurt and logic isn't always able to put salve on it.
I remember waking our dog one night and thinking about not going home. I very seriously considered walking away. I didn't, but I did sit in a bus stop and cry. I sat in the park and cried. I sat up late and cried and drank wine which didn't make it feel better, but I tried, I even sobbed down the phone to the Samaritans around 1am one morning. I doubt I made any sense, but I did it.
I'm saying these things because I want you to see that it's not just you. In a bizarre way how you feel is normal, if anything is normal in the world of dementia. I want you to see that you are a very good daughter and your mum is blessed to have you.
Today has been a bad day. Tomorrow may be better. I hope it is. You did mention care homes. I'm not saying do it, but I'm not saying don't. Caring for dementia comes in a million guises, hand on or ensuring that the hands on stuff is done by professionals. We all do as much as we can and then some, there's not a right or a wrong, there is just what is needed. X
We all know the reality is that this is beyond anything any of us can fix, one day it will happen a cure will be found please God, but not today. It's not your fault, none of this, but she loves you and you are so close to her and you get it in the neck every time, you are fair game in faulty dementia logic.
I know these things because I have been there before you. My mum has alzheimer's (and possibly vascular dementia) because I worked full time and left her alone in the house whilst I worked it was my fault she got ill. I was selfish and mum paid the price for my selfishness by getting ill. That was my mum's accusation to me and it hurt like the very devil, to a degree it still does. It was so unreasonable, but she couldn't see it. Dementia played with her logic and reasoning and took the break off of her mouth so that whatever was in her head was vocalised. Come to that she also told me she never wanted me as a child and didn't want me now. That one still wounds.
We both know we should ignore the bad bits, the wanton damage of the roses, the hurtful words, the temper tantrums (my mum) and everything else, but we are human, words and actions hurt and logic isn't always able to put salve on it.
I remember waking our dog one night and thinking about not going home. I very seriously considered walking away. I didn't, but I did sit in a bus stop and cry. I sat in the park and cried. I sat up late and cried and drank wine which didn't make it feel better, but I tried, I even sobbed down the phone to the Samaritans around 1am one morning. I doubt I made any sense, but I did it.
I'm saying these things because I want you to see that it's not just you. In a bizarre way how you feel is normal, if anything is normal in the world of dementia. I want you to see that you are a very good daughter and your mum is blessed to have you.
Today has been a bad day. Tomorrow may be better. I hope it is. You did mention care homes. I'm not saying do it, but I'm not saying don't. Caring for dementia comes in a million guises, hand on or ensuring that the hands on stuff is done by professionals. We all do as much as we can and then some, there's not a right or a wrong, there is just what is needed. X
Last edited: