Sorry for not blogging for a while but as expected the end of tax season is nearing and now that I am at Day 13 and counting, my stress level is starting to go upward. It is the same every year. By now, I am even dreaming about tax returns and am just ready for this year to be over and done with. For me, this is year 22. Yes, twenty-two years of tax seasons. Wouldn't you be half way to crazy by now too?
I have also been sick or half way sick with an Upper Respiratory Infection diagnosed 3 weeks ago tomorrow. Went to the local Urgent Care, got an antibiotic and even now still feeling rather punked. I should be better and honestly I am for the most part. I think it is a little bit of everything rolled into one. Tax season, allergies, the URI, and of course as always, a little bit of home stress.
The reason for the above title "The Closed Door"? Well I am getting to that but let me start it all at the beginning. Got a call from Lewis this morning that I needed a new dryer vent in the laundry room as a bird had decided to climb in and attempt to make a nest resulting in the vent coming loose, resulting in the bird flying into my laundry room, resulting in said bird flying up into the attic. When he called he was still attempting to get the suicidal bird out back into the laundry room and then outside. He didn't call me with the results so I guess I will have to update later on whether or not the bird was rescued. Anyways, that got me thinking about all that I need to do around the house but yet I can't seem to get motivated to do.
Sometimes I wonder why I feel the need to keep the house. For every item that I seem to get repaired or fixed there is another five things that in turn seem to need to be attended to. I get very tired of looking out at the lawn and needing to cut the grass or wash the siding or have my hardwood floors sanded and refinished or another coat of paint in yet another room. We had our kitchen and bathroom remodeled and updated in 2007 and I love, love, love both of those rooms but the lack of money and lack of time make moving into the other rooms very daunting.
Now, onto the title of this post. The closed door that I am referring to is the closed door into Butch's room. When he was hospitalized last May, right before he was placed in the nursing home, I closed the door to his room and unless I needed to put something away or retrieve clothes for him, I have not been back in that room except for a few brief hours when I tried to clean up and redo. Those few hours were very hard as I found that I was harboring some resentment. Resentment about the way that things turned out, resentment for all that I had lived through in the past few months with Butch, resentment for having to care for someone that was so very difficult to care for.
I have realized tonight that not only have I closed the door to that room, but I have also got a closed door into my heart and mind. There is a part of me that wants this to all be over with. I am tired of dealing with the nursing home. Tired of fighting with physicians over his care and medications. Tired of making the biweekly visits to see him. Tired of the phone calls. Tired of the holidays when his family runs down to see him but doesn't go to see him unless it is a holiday. Sometimes I just feel that there is no end in sight. This could drag on for years and years. I don't think it will, but really and truly I can't see the future. The not knowing makes things worse.
Yes, things are thousands of times better for me than one year ago. I only deal with it for a few minutes now weekly and the few hour visits which again are so difficult. The only way that I can describe it is having a wound that is healing and then every so often having the scab ripped away and starting all over again. I feel so many emotions when dealing with him. Emotions that I don't necessarily like feeling. Guilt, hatred, pity, and sometimes even apathy. I would like to deal with this the way that I have dealt with his bedroom, and that is to close the door and never have to open it up again, but just like that room, I cannot do that. One day I will have to open that door and go in there and finish things up. I had thought the other day that that would be one of my projects for after April 15th. Today, just the thought of opening that door makes me nauseous. I'm just expressing myself here. I'm so much improved than even a few months ago. The bad days are fewer and farther between. The tightness in my whole being has subsided, I usually rest better and most days I'm so much more at peace. Sometimes though, and today is one of those days, I feel the weight of everything upon my shoulders and I feel like I cannot take one more step in this unknown journey.
I'm sure that the upcoming Easter holiday has a lot to do with this. I had a really bad time around Christmas. Thanksgiving was the same. Butch wanted to come home but the facility advised against it because of the unpredictability in his moods and actions. I know that he still has outbursts and issues. I'm not there all the time, but I get the calls when they happen. Not only does his safety depend on him being there but also my safety and Jessica's as well. It is just so hard. That is why I'm typing this out, I have found that once it is out, I can take a deep breath and go forward. Hopefully one day this deep wound upon my psyche will heal and I will be able to look back without so much pain.