Caregivers really do tend to neglect to care for themselves.

Caregiver's really do tend to neglect to care for themselves.

I just got home from the doctor's. I realized I am like the person standing by the apple cart, waiting for something to knock off an apple and start an avalanche.

I have friends that claim me to be a bit of a control freak. It all came caving in this month- still clinging on to the nervous energy from helping mom come back after surgery,

paperwork past due, glitches on my payroll from teaching (ouch), worrying about Jack, worrying about Bill when he calls so much, worrying about Bill when he doesn't call; it's all a juggling act.

Then it happened. I saw myself in a mirror. There it was: an accumulation of nightmares of fighting off giant, Native American warriors in war paint with tomahawks wanting only to do harm, to kill, and I am on my own to save my life.

This is a reoccurring dream for me. One I've had since my cancer days. In the end I resist and conquer my attacker, pushing my hunting knife deeply in the chest of this man.It's always the same. The attacker strikes. He tries to kill me, I attempt to protect myself with the knife. Just as the warrior is about to succeed in killing me, Bill wakes and shoots... It begins. I see the warrior standing in the doorway. He's out of his mind, an ax raised high and plunging towards my head. What can I do? Holding my knife, hidden under my blankets I feel the weight of my attacker reach and grab my hair. Lying on my back, I thrust my knife in an upward motion, swooshing, tearing. I feel resistance and push, hard, until I break through the bony barrier. I look at my attacker, the warrior. His face has changed. When I look up, it's no longer the warrior. It's Bill. I realize the change. I realize I am on my own. I stab, force upward thrusts, over and over until this Bill-warrior collapses. And he's dead. I wake, pushing the weight of the blankets off thinking this was indeed a dead Bill, lying there. In his own blood. Blood I spilled to try to save myself. Save my boy. I scream and cry, by myself, trembling.

Grief. Anger. Anxiety. Anticipation. The unknown. Grief. I don't have any regrets. I just feel sad. It's the next phase they tell me. The stages, popularly known by the acronym DABDA, include:[2]

Denial — "I feel fine."; "This can't be happening, not to me."
Denial is usually only a temporary defense for the individual. This feeling is generally replaced with heightened awareness of possessions and individuals that will be left behind after death. Denial can be conscious or unconscious refusal to accept facts, information, or the reality of the situation. Denial is a defense mechanism and some people can become locked in this stage.
Anger — "Why me? It's not fair!"; "How can this happen to me?"; '"Who is to blame?"
Once in the second stage, the individual recognizes that denial cannot continue. Because of anger, the person is very difficult to care for due to misplaced feelings of rage and envy. Anger can manifest itself in different ways. People can be angry with themselves, or with others, and especially those who are close to them. It is important to remain detached and nonjudgmental when dealing with a person experiencing anger from grief.
Bargaining — "I'll do anything for a few more years."; "I will give my life savings if..."
The third stage involves the hope that the individual can somehow postpone or delay death. Usually, the negotiation for an extended life is made with a higher power in exchange for a reformed lifestyle. Psychologically, the individual is saying, "I understand I will die, but if I could just do something to buy more time..." People facing less serious trauma can bargain or seek to negotiate a compromise. For example "Can we still be friends?.." when facing a break-up. Bargaining rarely provides a sustainable solution, especially if it's a matter of life or death.

Depression — "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"; "I'm going to die soon so what's the point?"; "I miss my loved one, why go on?"
During the fourth stage, the dying person begins to understand the certainty of death. Because of this, the individual may become silent, refuse visitors and spend much of the time crying and grieving. This process allows the dying person to disconnect from things of love and affection. It is not recommended to attempt to cheer up an individual who is in this stage. It is an important time for grieving that must be processed. Depression could be referred to as the dress rehearsal for the 'aftermath'. It is a kind of acceptance with emotional attachment. It's natural to feel sadness, regret, fear, and uncertainty when going through this stage. Feeling those emotions shows that the person has begun to accept the situation.
Acceptance — "It's going to be okay."; "I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it."
In this last stage, individuals begin to come to terms with their mortality, or that of a loved one, or other tragic event. This stage varies according to the person's situation. People dying can enter this stage a long time before the people they leave behind, who must pass through their own individual stages of dealing with the grief.

Jack and I are seeking a spot at the corner of peace and parallel. We're slowly getting there.

So we take this man. we face the past- the trauma, the drama, the violence. We acknowledge he does not even remember those moments in time. They never happened, do no exist according to all reasoning known as today's Bill. Trying to fulfill promises made. Trying to survive, well, able to live, to enjoy life as we know it.

So I went to the doctor today. I'm ready to move on to the next stage and get better. Again.