It's keeping things bottled inside, only letting small bits seep out and dealing with each bit as it comes.
I suppose it explains the fitful sleep patterns, the inability to focus, the need for mindless repetitive tasks - the bizarre dreams.
Sure, I cried like a baby before I went to Florida. I sucked it up and tried NOT to cry while there, but several times I broke down and just quietly sobbed. There's this huge hole inside that is where my emotions were - and a rock that surrounds them now.
Slowly, a small bit at a time, I poke at the rock... chipping a little more of the covering away - but it usually only gives way at night.
Woke up the other night unable to know where I was - thinking I was in Florida, looking for Mom.
My mind plays "what if"... What if I hadn't insisted that Dad get her x-rayed for that hip pain? She wouldn't have gone to the secure home. Maybe she wouldn't have caught the flu...
What if..... What if this wasn't Alzheimers? Dad didn't have her autopsied, and that is the only sure way to tell if it IS Alzheimers, and not some other dementia. What if it was instead something related to hormone imbalance or other causes? What if some OTHER doctor might have been more effective?
What if I had realized THEN, instead of now... that she was so very thirsty?
I know it's a stupid mind-game to play. I know it won't help. But the emotions steer me that direction for this time. Perhaps later I can reconcile this all. I don't know. I need to have lunch with Grandma, but I can't afford more eat-out this week.
I also know that if I have lunch with Grandma, I will end up crying a lot. I don't know if I'm ready for that.
They're going to inter Mom's ashes at the church on Sunday after services. I wish I could be there for Dad. It will be hard for him.