Meth, was it you, have you done this to me?
Poor nanna moved in, she's struggling to see,
Frail and old and going crazy,
thinks she's outside smelling the daisies.
I offered to help, I promised I would,
But horror & shock makes me unsure I could,
Confronting it is being so raw to see,
How scary it is when we lose our sanity.
I'm trying to help but for some reason, I baulk,
Perhaps it's how she fumbles her fork,
Or could it be all her delusions that I see,
Is what I'm terrified will become my reality?
I honestly feel so selfish and ashamed. My poor 92-year-old, blind and frail grandmother has moved in with us to be cared for. I jumped at the opportunity to help out and give me something meaningful to devote my time to while getting through the withdrawals and post meth blues. If it meant keeping her out of a nursing home and we could do it together, mum dad and I, I was in without question.
But having her here and so much time sitting with her, while I appreciate the opportunity to do this for her and feel grateful for it, it's proven rather unnerving at the best of times and for some reason, I keep doing my best to avoid too much conversation with her now or actual alone time. Listening to her rattle out the most outrageous stories and delusions about; where she is, what's going on, who's with and around her, what they are doing, how she rode to the chemist in a trailer in tow by car but with a boat seat and was left out the front where too many seals were swimming around her but she wasn't bothered by them, it fucking freaks me out.
Like I've done a significant amount of damage to my dopamine receptors with my addiction and prior years of rec using, am I gonna end up like that one day but probably 10/20/50 times worse???
I don't mean to disrespect my nan, my heart aches for her and I still do whatever she needs help wise, like taking her to the toilet and helping her shower and get dressed, but I try avoiding too much conversation and when it's just the two of us at home and I'm on shift to keep an eye over her, I try avoiding too much alone time throughout.
I feel so horrible and selfish for it. She can't help what's happening to her, but the thought of the life she's now living one day becoming reality from the obvious damage and cell death to my brain... It's something that haunts me at night and feeling detached through the day. Is it natural to suddenly feel in such a way? Is it from a subconscious level? Or has meth gotten to my head and left me paranoid for good?