At present.

I have been doing okay lately as I have not had much to do with dad, thank goodness. I wait for his carer to arrive at 9am before I go in and wake him up. Then they help him with washing and dressing. I take him his tea, breakfast and meds while they are writing their notes so they act as a buffer between us. And of course, he is on his best behaviour with them there so I do not get any hassle from him then.

They leave and I keep away from him until I take him a cup of tea about 11am. I just walk in, warn him it's hot, walk out and close his lounge door with the goal of keeping the heat in but really it is because I like him being closed in a room away from the rest of the house...and me.

Whenever I decide to sort out lunch for the family, I do his too. I try and organise it so it is ready when my husband comes home on a break from work so he can take it to dad. That means I do not have to deal with him until teatime. at about 4pm and then again at 6:30pm or whenever I remember. Once again I try and arrange it that my husband can give it to him. If not I take it in and quietly walk straight out again without talking to him. He is so engrossed in his TV programme (usually some horrific, gory true crime story) and has the TV on full volume so he ignores me anyway. I organise his evening meds and put them on his bedside table. My husband helps him with his bedtime tasks. That means I can have an early night and do not have to see him before bedtime. I need to be calm and emotionally stable to fall asleep thus not having to interact with him is really helpful.

Yesterday was a particularly bad day. We only had four interactions the whole day but each time, I was faced with his raging eyes and angry twisted mouth shouting at me. You may wonder what I did wrong or whether the issues concerning him were of major importance. Firstly, he was cross that I had given him a few too many bran flakes in his breakfast bowl. That occupied two of the encounters. The second issue was that he prefers to open his post with a letter opener. This has always been the case. For those of you who don't know, it's like a knife. He even has one with an ivory handle. I told him that I had given it to him to open his birthday cards. He replied that as it was no longer there I must have removed it. I had not. My reply was regarded with such vitriol, you may have thought that I had stabbed him with said letter opener. I remained calm and told him if he wanted to use one, he could always go and fetch it from his study. It is probably less than ten steps away from the lounge where he was lying as usual on the sofa. Before the barrage of his abuse washed over me, I made a swift exit.

I realise I am having an easier time at present (apart from yesterday's debacle) while his carers are coming in but I know once they finish in a weeks' time, I will be at the front line again and as ever, it will not be easy. I have been observing the carers with him and see how they deal with any issues that arise. I know he reacts differently with me, and that the people closest to us always get the brunt of our emotions but I am consciously trying to change the way I respond to his toxicity. As I have said before though, some days I do really well and feel strong and capable and then other days you could knock me down with a feather. I suppose as long as I keep trying, I will be okay. When I think back on how I responded to him a year ago; I have made huge strides in my attitude and presence. So I will definitely persevere.