There is almost a palpable sadness when people ask about my mom these
days. "How is she doing" becomes phrased more as a statement than a
question.
Trouble seems always a moment away. Sleep now is filled
with hallucinations, paranoia and an engulfing restlessness. Day and
night have lost their meaning. Her grasp is so fragile, so tenuous.
It is a world where villains and demons, shadows and conspiracies,
isolation and resentment live. It is a place that is exhausting to watch
and clearly almost impossible to endure. And it is here that my mom
finds herself more and more.
It is as an endless cycle downward. It has been a long and terrible descent and it appears to have no bottom.
No comments:
Post a Comment