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How many others are crying into their fruit tea this evening?
Fed up of having to stay strong.
Fed up of pretending to be happy and optimistic when visiting a loved one in a hospice.
Fed up of saying ‘yes I understand’ as the staff explain why he has a bed sore.
Fed up of treating him like your child when feeding him his food. 'One more spoonful go on, well done, you have done really well with that'. Brings back memories of when you fed your children as toddlers.
Fed up of trying to be a; wife, mother, cook, cleaner, plumber, builder, carpenter, decorator, dog walker, worker, friend, doctor, nurse and carer all at the same time.
Fed up of working out the finances and being the only one and not one of two to discuss these things with.
Fed up oh just fed up and bloody sad all the time.
Fed up of people who say you’re very strong.
Fed up of being strong.
Fed up of thanking people for the offers of help you know you will not take up.
Fed up of that bloody drive every day.
Fed up of not sleeping properly dreading the phone ringing in the night.
Fed up of feeling guilty when you think about what you will do in the future.
Fed up of not being able to have a glass of wine - just in case you’re called to the hospital.
Fed up and sad and so bloody sorry for the man you married who nine months ago was fit, healthy and living, who now is barely hanging on to life.
Fed up of worrying, hurrying, waiting, hoping, thinking and more importantly fed up of knowing that nothing, absolutely nothing you do will change the outcome.
