Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Soon it will be the 1st day of March already. I remember Gram saying the older you get, the faster time goes by. I never really put much thought into it until lately. The old words of wisdom are true; it does seem like time rushes by more quickly as you get older. It seems like yesterday when I slid on those wet leaves, did a tailspin, and ran my car backwards up that embankment into that person’s yard and hit their fruit tree from behind, totaling my small Grand Am, breaking my neck and severing my spinal cord. But it will be six years on March 26th. I’ve come a long way since then, but not far enough for my goals. I won’t be happy until I no longer need Eric to care for me.
Whether this goal is attainable, possible, or even feasible I do not know. But, it IS my goal. I am killing him. Just the bare essential of his taking care of the house, the van, and me is overwhelming him. He admitted to me that he was very depressed and the further he gets behind, the less sleep he gets, the worse his pain gets, the further he gets behind… and on and on. That it had becomes a viscous cycle of depression for him. Plus now, he’s addicted to his pain medication and he has to have it, he’s in terrible agonizing pain. It’s truly a shame and I feel guilty about it, just as guilty as I feel about my son’s heroin addiction.