I’m coming off one of those sleep deprived nights that go with having a person with special needs in the house. I’m sure I’ve shared a zillion such incidents so the details are irrelevant.
Care giving involves emergencies in the middle of the night or when one is already depleted by all of life’s other stuff. And even without the emergencies, there’s the steady drip of energy into routines of care (aka chores) that turn life into a blur.
I find myself having to check my PC or phone to remember which day of the week I’m on. Is that advancing age or the fog of extended care giving?
Inventories for depression include a question like “Have you been unable to do things you used to enjoy?” Hell yes, but is that depression or exhaustion? Who wants to take a 20 mile bike ride along the river on 3 hours of fitful sleep?
The upside is, you don’t need the expense and (depending upon where you live) legal issues of sitting around stoned. Care giving provides its own kind of burnt bliss. Pink Floyd provides some good mood music,
Comfortably Numb, am I? Or am I actually dealing with
OK, that’s all for now. Got to keep the loonies on the path.