Evasive sleep.

Good morning, it's 6am and I am sitting here in bed in the dark creating a blog. Been awake since silly o'clock. Curtains open, waiting for the sunrise on a very wet rainy morning. Why can't I sleep? Well, let's see there's a variety of reasons. Firstly, being a menopausal woman, broken sleep with hot sweats is the norm, Secondly, my thoughts are in overdrive and I can't switch off, no matter how many sleep stories or guided meditations I listen to.

Sleep has been a problem for years. I cared for my Mum for ten years before she passed away a number of years ago. Her health issues were life and death related, i.e. breathing. So I was constantly alert listening to her breathing. If I had a few hours broken sleep each night, I was lucky. Looking back I don't know how I managed. I must have been like a walking zombie.

I am worried it is all happening again. This time I am caring for my dad. His health issues aren't life or death but he is frail and elderly and has 'plumbing' problems. I certainly never wanted to know how to deal with catheter issues but I am reluctantly and gradually finding out. For example, if you need to change the day bag but the pipe is being difficult and not coming out easily...do not tug on it too hard as a certain male appendage is attached to the other end and your patient may double up in pain even though you are oblivious to the discomfort you have just caused. Ho hum.

You may be wondering why he is named dad and not Dad. Well, that relates to the name of this blog. It is the hardest thing in the world to care for someone who hurt you as a child. Hurt is an understatement. He hit me. He hit me as I was naughty apparently. How naughty can a young child between three and eleven years old be to deserve beatings that caused welts? No, he hit me to release all his anger and frustration about his life.

Now I have to care for him. He, who when I pleaded with him to stop hitting me as a child, would furiously tell me he would give me something to cry about and hit me harder. Now when he needs help and orders me to do so without so much as a please or thank you, I help him without words. The words are all swirling in my head but I do not speak them. Those words become thoughts and continue to swirl around and halt my mind from switching off. Hence the lack of sleep.

I am hoping that by creating this blog and freeing my words, sleep will come more easily.