Ever feel like you're so scattered that every ounce of potential for any goal is escaping your grasp like grains of sand? Lately, I've been nagged by the realization that I'm essentially running in place. My focus and attention are so divided by all that's happening in my life that I can't accomplish anything. It's bad enough that I want to throw the skip-a-turn card just so I can gather myself and my thoughts.
I've become my worst enemy, which is a good bulk of the issue. I know that I ought to be using my 'free' time more wisely, but most days I'm so mentally exhausted from all the directions I'm trying to go to be there for everyone that I've got zero desire to do anything constructive. It's become an awful cycle of binge-watching movies and series on streaming networks, just to block out all the thoughts I'm tired of rolling around in my mind. My attention span for things is so limited - I realized my phone and other forms of technology aren't helping, but so much of what I do depends on these things.
When I first set out with my RV, my intention was to focus on myself and on my goal of writing. Life happens and well-laid plans get interrupted, and even change course. There are things in my near future that completely turn all those plans upside down. Despite this, I know that focusing on the negatives in this situation will not help me get any closer to the things I want. It's fine to feel disappointment and uncertainty, but at some point, I need to take ownership of my happiness and path to my goals if I ever expect to achieve either.
Being a caring daughter and doing what I feel is right doesn't have to squash my dreams or my happiness. Alzheimer's is 'the long goodbye,' but it doesn't have to be all gloom and sadness. There is a way through this that is full of grace and love. There is a way for me to be happy and find joy along the way. I have so much to learn about this disease, my mother, my stepfather, and myself. I just need to reevaluate my life and go deeper to find the strength, desire, and will to face what could be a long and arduous ordeal with an open mind and a loving heart.
I don't want to feel stressed or dread the time I have left with the woman who raised me. The mother who sang to me as a child, who danced with my sisters and me in the living room, taught me to cook and love it, who was my rock and my shoulder for so long, and who always put my needs first. I believe there is a way to be there for her and still live my life. I just have to figure out how to balance it all, and I think that starts with eliminating things that don't work with this new path.
So, over the next few months, I'll be spending time evaluating my life and letting go of comfortable and familiar things as I start introducing new habits and routines. I had no idea that the end of my 40s and the start of my 50s would involve me purging so many things from my life. The lesson I've learned as a result has been one I won't soon forget. Things are replaceable and nothing lasts forever. By letting go of things, material and not, I'm making room for new, better, more meaningful things at the exact time that I will benefit from them the most. It's not easy, but I believe it will lead to growth in more ways than I could possibly comprehend right now.
