Bleurgh.

25/09/2013 14:24

I hate it when it's miserable outside. It makes the house feel so dark and then that makes me want to go into hibernation mode - if only.

I got home from cadets last night to an almighty rant. I was led into a false sense of security because he'd rung his friend and was blethering away to him with a happy face and a jovial banter. I made him a cup of coffee and sat down. He came off the phone and blow me, it came from nowhere. I was told I do nothing, the iron is in the wrong cupboard, the cupboards haven't been cleaned (excuse me, I've done nothing but clean cupboards) and what do I do all day - nothing, that's what I do. I didn't even put the iron away. I finished ironing just before I went out so I left it on the bench to cool down. The cupboard hubby put the iron into was the wrong cupboard, it doesn't even stand up in that cupboard, but it was still my fault.

I just let the rant wash over me with no response. I'm exhausted of this hatred at the moment. It's all my fault because I was out for two hours taking them to cadets. I wasn't here. It's simple. He wants me out of the house yet when I am (and it's only those two hours a week) he hates it. He wants me to leave him, but puts obsticles in my way to prevent it. The thought of this being the cycle within the house for years and years upsets me and the thought of him not being here at all devastates me.

Being selfish (again), I feel like this bloody illness called Dementia has robbed us, him, me and the girls. For what I can see, to him his rants and thoughts are rational, he has no emotional grasp of what he's saying and how upsetting it can be. I miss him. We've never been a lovey dovey couple, but we've always known we love each other, shown it in other ways. There's never been any public displays of affection, but there's always been affection. Now there's non. Non at all. I'm alone, lonely even. He ignores me. He shouts, rants, mumbles but it's the ignoring that I hate. It's like there's nothing there anymore, and I mean affection, not him.

I miss the smiles, the twinkle in his eyes, the looks, the "in" jokes we had. I just miss him. I'm here, but I might aswell not be. I'm just the person who tidies and cleans and cooks, and I don't even do that well as so many of the rants are about that.

It's funny because for all his memory fails, he knows exactly what to say to upset me. I've changed too. I'm not the person I was. I don't bite back anymore. I just allow whatever he's saying, because if I interupt or try to defend what he's saying he just starts again. Over and over.

Last night I was going to bed to get out of the way, but he decided to go first. So I stayed up a little longer. Why? It was like he waited for me going to bed to continue the nagging. I should have gone with him because it would have gotten it over with sooner. I get up to his bad mood and I go to bed with his bad mood and it thourighly demoralises me. If I give the girls wrong for something, it's not them that gets wrong from him, it's me. I'm too loud, I shouldn't give them wrong, I shouldn't do this, I shouldn't do that, and all in all it's my fault because they're my girls and they behave just like me. If I let them away with something to avoid getting wrong from him, I get wrong from him because I'm letting them run riot (they don't but go with me on this one), if I correct them I'm wrong again because I'm a "shite mother". They hate me, they can't stand me, they want me to leave, they want nothing to do with me, blah, blah, effing blah.

Dementia doesn't just affect the person with the illness. It affects us all. The thing I get cross with myself about this illness is that it's not just Dementia that I can resent. I sometimes resent him and that's wrong. It's not him that's making him horrid. It's the puppet master, yet sometimes I look at hubby and really, really dislike him. I imagine Dementia sitting in the corner of it's room giggling to itself about how it turns my emotions in on themselves, and how I (a strong person - I like to think...) allow it to. It hasn't just devastated my husband, it's got a hold of me and manipulates my feelings too. Thank you Dementia. They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Well if that's the case, Dementia is my shadow, and I bloody hate it.

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