I just want to scream.

I cannot even with entitled white men today. Cannot. They are making me all stabbity.

Also, I do not know how to make someone who is cognitively impaired understand that her attempts to be independent are going to make her more dependent in the long run.

Mom slid out of her wheelchair yesterday while trying to transfer to her bed by herself. It is mystifying. It would be laudable for her to be so independent if she were actually capable besides. I go back and forth with wanting to reason with her (is not effective), put up signs (“Call, don’t fall”), and just give in and start touring facilities with more oversight, accepting that she won’t be able to return to Merrill Gardens.

It all makes me so stressed. And I’m supposed to take care of myself and not take on more stress. So much easier said than done.

Welcome.

I don’t know how you found it, but this is meant to be an anonymous place where I can blog things I can’t blab anywhere else. Not dangerous things, but little secrets I have to let out. Like the tale of legend where the title comes from. These are the reeds. Let’s see if the story ends up the same.