2014.03.27

Nights are becoming extremely difficult. A pattern has emerged: at least every third night, MW will not sleep due to some anxiety. Naturally, when MW is not sleeping; I’m not sleeping.

And right now I am so goddamned exhausted.

Work is still very busy, and then I’m cooking/cleaning for MW every night until 8 or 9, then she demands I sit with her while she watches TV for a couple of hours. This is our “together” time. And then if it is one of her bad nights, I’m constantly on the move fetching things or wide awake listening to her cry. So come Thursday, I’m pretty much walking dead.

How long can this go on?

Juxtaposed against my fatigue, MW has done well with the temporary full time hours at her new job. She likes being around people, and she loves the fact that she’s working again. I truly thought she’d have found a reason to quit by now, but she’s still going. Tomorrow will mark two full weeks.

Good for her.

And, if she can maintain, good for me too. I desperately need some time alone, if for no other reason than just to sleep. My luck: she’ll make it through the training but when it comes time to start working weekends; MW will quit.

2014.03.28

MW asks me to hold her hand at night as she falls asleep. Last night the twitching, spasms and clutching became so pronounced, I almost asked if she was doing it on purpose.

That would have initiated a grand conversation.

Still, for all my worry and concern, MW is basically functioning at the same level she was when I started this journal. In some ways, even better, in that she’s kept a job for two weeks – two whole weeks! – now. But it is these little terrors – the twitching, the slurred speech, the carelessness and strange conversations – which makes every single one of my days a suspenseful nightmare. What is going to happen today? Will it be too big to ignore or equivocate (“Of course you’re not sick. Everybody occasionally misses their mouth with the spoon.”)?

Last night also saw a return of the obsessive paranoia over health. She has a chipped tooth and is certain that the remainder of said tooth will break off while she sleeps and choke her to death. So she kept asking me over and over again if that will happen. How many times can you say “No, dear. You can’t choke to death on a chipped tooth” before you start going a little crazy yourself? I do my best, but I need a crutch. 

Oh, and also, today my brother sent me an email with a link to an article about a possible cure for HD. Odd in that this was the first time he’d brought the issue up, even though I had expressed my concern over the matter with him a very long time ago. Perhaps he has noticed a change in MW? I would be interested to know why he sent it, but instead I made a joke of my reply. I appreciate my brother and know he means well, but all he can offer is sympathy. That’s all anyone can offer.

I don’t need sympathy. I need a solution to a problem that has none.