Sure, I know Groundhog Day was officially February 2nd this year, but I feel like I live it every day… Ever seen the movie with Bill Murray circa 1993? It’s when Bill Murray’s character relives Groundhog Day over and over (and over) again.

That’s my life.

Every day is the same. No sleeping in for me. I wake up and head upstairs to prepare my aunt’s coffee. Sometimes I wash my face and brush my teeth first, other times I’m thankful just to beat her to the kitchen. I make her coffee, throw myself together, (if it’s a work day) I log on my computer and start my day. Add in a series of meals, repeat questions, playing along with the fake reality scenarios, and supervising her with the TV volume cranked up to 100. It’s a cruel condition with no rhyme or reason.

That’s my life.

I know that I’ve talked about dementia in a previous blog but GEEZ… it’s pretty much monopolizing my entire life, so I need to talk about it or bust a gasket from the frustration of it. If she asks me about my mother coming home (who never lived with us even when she was still alive) or her trifling good-for-nothing son who doesn’t even bother to call her on her birthday one more time, I’m going to scream. The same set of questions repeated aaaaaaaall day every day has to be enough to drive you insane at some point.

I wonder… can you catch dementia? Does it eventually rub off on you because I swear I can’t seem to put together a fully coherent sentence anymore. I stumble and stammer over my words when I speak (when I can even think of the words I want to say) and feel like I sound like an idiot more often than not. I used to be really good at my job, but now I’m just a shell of what I used to be. At least that’s how it feels. Last week, I struggled for the word “legend” for a map graphic. Couldn’t think of it at all.

I’m really afraid of who I’ll be at the end of this road of dementia. Will I be able to bounce back from it? or will I remain the fat, cranky, stuttering, kill-joy that I’m becoming? I used to like me… now? Not so much.

What was I about to say? Hell, I don’t know. I’m supposed to be doing homework yet here I am posting another grim diatribe about the frustrations of caring for somebody who has dementia.

I know she can’t help it. I know she can’t help it. I know she can’t help it.

I actually DO know that. Does it help? Not particularly. Not most of the time anyway.

The time is now 4:06 p.m. on Sunday and I have homework to do. I’ve gotta muster the focus to get it done. My last two courses were torture to finish! I have to pat myself on the back and proudly say that I was able to get As in both, so guess I don’t completely suck. Maybe there’s a little left in the tank.

I was able to pull myself out of the hole, get myself together, and even got kudos from the teacher on my final project *YAY ME*.

ANYWAY… Off I go… but I’ll be back. Hopefully next time I’ll have something more upbeat to post.

Did I say that last time? LOL