Sunday, March 3, 2013


Like an attention deficit little squirrel, my mind races at night. My body begs for sleep, but that critter disallows any such nonsense. Miles to go. Miles to go. Why do I act this way? Why does he act this way? Oh wait, I know why he acts this way. Why do I react to his acts this way? And on and on. A major problem for me is the total unpredictable nature of this disease. I just get adjusted--sort of--to some particularly outlandish behavior and another starts up. And I mean immediately upon any kind of accommodation on my part. Very smart and insightful people have assured me that my own behavior is well within normal range. That this is extremely tough and dealing with it 24/7 can break anyone. Add to that the yogic (and the therapy) learning to love oneself, even the parts you don't like, because ALL of you--good and bad--make up your total package. All your behaviors and experiences create the person you are, and you have a model for understanding. You would think. But models don't seem to help. I actually shouted this out loud the other day, "One of us needs to die soon! It should probably be me as you are at least sweet natured. I am not." And I am not. I am absolutely, nails on blackboard, screeching livid! I remain fiercely angry with him for being sick and helpless. I yearn for the grace to release the anger and just love and care for him the best I can.

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