Missed

Had a few good days, some good moments this weekend.

I can't yet figure out if I should keep up my small journal/notes and publish them, or limit to when I can make a real fleshed out post?

It's hard to watch him die. To watch him slip away bit by bit. He had about 3 days/nights/period of hours in the week where he's been very "Wash". His personality just keeps fading. He comes around for friends, to talk, and always to play, but less and less.

Lately he's been making "jokes" about suicide. Hospice says this is his way of coping with some issues relating to his coming death. It's so so so so so tough for me to hear his "jokes". I cannot laugh or see humour in them.

It pains me to hear from so many people that they think I'm getting burned out or over-worked. These are almost always the same people that don't offer any real help or solutions outside of, "I'm worried."

I'm frakking worried too, but there's no one else. He loves me, and a part of his brain hates me too. He sees me as the "reason" why he's in this place, why he has so many rules, why he can't instead of being able to remember or place that emotion properly on his cancer, not the person who has to keep him safe from himself.

It's hard.

Last week I fainted because I ended up going 30 hours without eating. I eat about once, maybe twice a day now almost always after Wash goes down for bed, 10pm-3am. The rest of the time I'm watching him, which, even if I have a moment to cook, prepare, and eat a meal, I'm almost never hungry. I'm just so stressed watching and caring and dealing with his hatred and anger at me, I don't want to eat. Also, a lot of the food I buy is for him. I forget that I'm a person too.

I yelled at my brother G.* this weekend when he called right as I was heading into my first shower in about 5-7 days. He wanted to "chat" and I wanted to take advantage of my 15 mins alone to shower for the first time in a week. I guess for him it's harder to grasp since he lives alone and showers for 40mins every morning.

It's becoming so hard for me to explain to the people close and around us just how much Wash's cancer effects me on so many levels, how I'm so tied into him and his moods for the mere fact of being around him 24 hours a day 7 days a week for 30 straight months. Even most prisoners get a "break" from their cell mate daily. I don't like it, but I can understand that Wash's anger and rage are going to come out on the person around- me.

Dying is not easy.