I feel like pressure has been building in my chest all day. Sometimes I wish he just slept all day. I think it would be easier. Out of sight, out of mind. Instead he’s right in the room with us for most of the day. Shuffling about. Occasionally interacting, but not enthusiastically. Not even moderately. Just because he knows he has to, like he knows how closely he can come to my tipping point without tipping me.

On days like these, it’s everything I can do to keep it together. The kids need me. They are both acting out. I haven’t enough energy. I wish I did. I feel anger toward him, Why can’t I feel love? Why can’t I see it’s the disease, and feel pity? No, all that was there today was an immense pressure and an anger which I’m sure he senses. The thought I could do it, I could make it, if that cloud wasn’t hanging over all of us all day long. He has a downswing, we all get swept along. I wish I knew what to do.


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