Let The Rest Go
Karl has been my best friend, my lover, my husband, the father of my child and the best thing in my life. Right now, he is teaching me about compassion. Not an easy lesson for me especially since it starts with me.
Compassion is not about self-pity. It is about loving myself unconditionally. It's about being willing to feel, to be with my feelings without trying to minimize them, change them, deny them or cover them up. I don't need to forgive myself for feeling them. I don't have to make excuses for having them. Compassion is raw emotions and the courage to feel them.
Compassion is feeling that I am tired and resting. It's about doing what is important and letting the rest go. Compassion is about taking care of the person, Karl, and not obsessing about the messes. It's about taking care of the things that need tending without making a big deal about them. It's about doing what I can with the energy I have and letting the rest go.
"Let the rest go" could be my mantra. What I am truly doing is letting Karl go. I've stopped trying to find a cure for him, some magic nutrient or treatment that will make him better. I cheer him on when he's able to do a task that is difficult for him or when he's able to move a little better that day. I help him when he needs help and let him do it himself when he's trying. Compassion is seeing him as he is in the moment and acting accordingly.
It is easy for me to get tied up in taking care of him, serving him, cleaning up after him, dealing with his hallucinations and paranoia. It could consume me, but I realize that all this is temporary. My life and happiness is not dependent on Karl. I am responsible for my own happiness. Even after blowing up in anger about some incident, I can choose another attitude and change how I feel. Reach for a better feeling because he is doing the best he can and so am I.
Had to go find out who Karl is talking to. He called 911 because he was hallucinating that I was on the floor bleeding and asking him to call 911. Talked to the operator and told her he was hallucinating and every thing was all right.
Today, I wrote in my journal all of the things I am grateful for, just to remind myself that I am blessed. I will take those rare moments when we can sit and talk about little things or big things without intrusions of his illness. I will cherish those moments when he is clear enough to gather me in his arms and give me a hug. It is a long time between those moments and I will never stop longing for the old Karl. He's not even gone, and I miss him already.
I thought I was going to write about intimacy and longing. The contrast between then and now is stark. The level of intimacy is even greater, but that is okay. I am still fighting with compassion. I am still trying to balance my own needs with Karl's need for a caretaker. As his dimentia progresses, there will be depths that we will have to face and truths that will challenge our humanity. God bless us all.
Compassion is not about self-pity. It is about loving myself unconditionally. It's about being willing to feel, to be with my feelings without trying to minimize them, change them, deny them or cover them up. I don't need to forgive myself for feeling them. I don't have to make excuses for having them. Compassion is raw emotions and the courage to feel them.
Compassion is feeling that I am tired and resting. It's about doing what is important and letting the rest go. Compassion is about taking care of the person, Karl, and not obsessing about the messes. It's about taking care of the things that need tending without making a big deal about them. It's about doing what I can with the energy I have and letting the rest go.
"Let the rest go" could be my mantra. What I am truly doing is letting Karl go. I've stopped trying to find a cure for him, some magic nutrient or treatment that will make him better. I cheer him on when he's able to do a task that is difficult for him or when he's able to move a little better that day. I help him when he needs help and let him do it himself when he's trying. Compassion is seeing him as he is in the moment and acting accordingly.
It is easy for me to get tied up in taking care of him, serving him, cleaning up after him, dealing with his hallucinations and paranoia. It could consume me, but I realize that all this is temporary. My life and happiness is not dependent on Karl. I am responsible for my own happiness. Even after blowing up in anger about some incident, I can choose another attitude and change how I feel. Reach for a better feeling because he is doing the best he can and so am I.
Had to go find out who Karl is talking to. He called 911 because he was hallucinating that I was on the floor bleeding and asking him to call 911. Talked to the operator and told her he was hallucinating and every thing was all right.
Today, I wrote in my journal all of the things I am grateful for, just to remind myself that I am blessed. I will take those rare moments when we can sit and talk about little things or big things without intrusions of his illness. I will cherish those moments when he is clear enough to gather me in his arms and give me a hug. It is a long time between those moments and I will never stop longing for the old Karl. He's not even gone, and I miss him already.
I thought I was going to write about intimacy and longing. The contrast between then and now is stark. The level of intimacy is even greater, but that is okay. I am still fighting with compassion. I am still trying to balance my own needs with Karl's need for a caretaker. As his dimentia progresses, there will be depths that we will have to face and truths that will challenge our humanity. God bless us all.