I feel exhausted and heartbroken taking care of my husband.

DH was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s early last year. He used to be the “organizer” and paid bills, kept the house in order, etc. Since then, it’s been all I can do to cook, clean, feed him, pay the bills, keep the car running, and make sure he takes his meds. He, on the other hand, seems happily disconnected from the worries of the world, though I know that’s not the reality. We used to be very close, but since I became his caregiver, something’s changed; and I feel bad that mostly I feel alone, heartbroken (for him), and, if I’m honest, resentful for feeling cheated out of living my own life. I know I need some kind of therapy but good luck finding time for that.

The situation is what it is

First of all, allow me to express my deepest sympathy for what you are going through. Whether it’s a spouse or a parent who’s diagnosed with dementia, we all feel a chaotic mix of emotions when thrust into situations like yours. We watch their minds slowly die inside while their body lives on. Personalities change. Memory fails. People don’t recognize spouses, children, or close friends, and as the disease progresses, they shrivel from the world and fade away. And there’s nothing we can do to stop it.

But we can make them comfortable, and you’re doing that. So I want you to step back, stand up, and pat yourself on the back. You’ve done well by your husband.

Buy time to sort things out

I think you’re holding yourself responsible for doing way too much, so much that it’s impossible for one person to do. So I’m going to suggest that you get other people to help.

If you can afford to have someone check in on your husband while you go have the car serviced, that buys you a little time and gets a big task off your list. If your dry cleaner can also pick up, wash, and fold laundry (ours used to do that), that buys you some time. If you can set up some of your most critical bills on autopay, that can help take a load off your back. If you and your husband have the budget for it, getting household help to cook and clean is a start. It doesn’t have to be that often; just enough for you to feel some relief and buy time to think.

If car repairs are stressing you financially, look into whether there’s a “senior jitney” service nearby—basically a small bus that takes seniors where they want to go and doesn’t usually charge anything, or charges a very nominal fee. Sometimes if there’s a senior center or dementia home nearby, they may be able to pick you up and drop you off. In larger cities, such services may fall under the purview of transportation authorities—for instance, physical handicap bus services.

If you need the car for grocery shopping but the car needs to be fixed first, consider grocery delivery for a while.

My point is, you don’t have to line up impossible tasks and do them all yourself. If the car doesn’t have to be fixed right now, that’s one thing off your back…and a little more time to think.

Buying time to think is your first step. You CANNOT continue to do everything at once, so don’t be surprised if something doesn’t get done, and don’t worry about it. Just do the most important thing, get help, and BREATHE. 🙂

Acknowledge and address feelings head-on

You mentioned that your husband seems happily lost in the present moment, and it sounds like maybe you resent his freedom a little and feel guilty about it. It also sounds like you feel cheated out of your own life. Finally, it sounds like you’re already grieving for your husband and are finding it hard to see your relationship as anything but a caregiver.

So let’s unpack that.

First, it’s actually fortunate for your husband that at least right now, he’s capable of living in the present moment. That can be a source of peace, and as the disease progresses, his peaceful moments will become fewer. So to the extent that you can, try to appreciate that he has been given a gift in the midst of this horrible, horrible disease. It may allow you to see the situation with greater insight and compassion, and less resentment and alienation.

Second, it’s okay to feel like something has been stolen from you that you can’t get back. But you must remember that you cannot steal it back. The challenge now is to figure out how to live in peace with your new situation. You can take peace in knowing you have done well so far in caring for your husband. You can take peace in knowing he’s living in the present moment. You can take peace in sharing his remaining days in a way that brings joy to you both—sharing a milkshake, playing board games (pro tip: let him win!). And in a bittersweet way, you can take peace in the knowledge that this long, difficult road downhill is shorter than you think. In time, you will learn to treasure whatever messed-up days you can be near each other, for you are making treasured memories that will soon be in short supply.

It’s hard to be at peace with that sort of stuff…but it’s important to try. Peace will not come to you if you struggle to stay in control.

It’s okay to feel impatient, burned out, and exhausted. That’s just how people feel, and you’re not a bad person for feeling those things. But it’s important to find productive outlets for those feelings. If you can’t find time to discuss them with a therapist (you mentioned that was difficult), perhaps discuss your feelings with your minister, a friend, or just journal them while you’re feeling them most intensely so that your rational self can read them later and help your emotional self through it all.

Be nice to yourself as you fumble your way forward.

You’re doing the best you can, and if you’re making progress, you’re doing it right.

Pro tip: it doesn’t have to be perfect…just progress.

There’s a humorous adaptation of the worn-out “this too shall pass” that goes something like this: “This too shall pass. It may pass like a kidney stone, but it will pass.” The real take-away is that there is always an end to the long, rocky roads we must sometimes travel. And the fact that right now, you can’t see even a few feet in front of you is what’s tiring you out the most. So deal with one thing at a time, and ignore everything else. Slowly, the load will get lighter.

Then move on to the next thing. Use the time you’ve so dearly won NOT to pile on more responsibility, but to be kind to yourself in the quiet moments. You will find that you’re better able to deal with crises and more tolerant of stones you encounter on the path ahead.