Dear Person who judges me

Before I start into the main body of this letter I need to clear something up, I don’t blame you for judging me, were I in your shoes, I would probably do the same.

I’ve found through experience that things always seem different when you are on the outside looking in. Where my life is concerned, you’re effectively looking into a fish bowl, because the same things happen day in and day out.

I see the look in your eyes sometimes when I reply to your question ‘How are things?’ You glaze over, so I wonder to myself why you actually ask the question when you have no interest in the reply. Sometimes I want to talk about it and sometimes I don’t. On rare occasions I need to talk about it, if for no other reason than to try and get things straight in my own head, but I will answer ‘Fine’ and move on, because I know that is what you want to hear.

The saddest thing is that Aggie’s dementia has changed more than just her life, I for sure am a different person, as is Bert. We all live this thing, only unlike Aggie, Bert and I are unable to forget the temper tantrums and the harsh words. Sometimes we are nothing more than physical and verbal punch bags. I could never begin to explain to you how exhausting that can be, both mentally and physically.

It’s is believed in a person with Dementia that frustration will sometimes manifest itself as anger. I witness this on an almost daily basis and can understand , because I often experience the same feelings, but for a different reason.

Try to imagine what it would be like to deal with a person in their seventies who is experiencing both the terrible two’s and the more difficult side of being a teenager all at once. It’s hard going, especially for someone who never wanted children.

That leads me to my next point, I know you look at me and think that I am just doing the same as any other person who has responsibilities for a family. There is a difference though, I never wanted this, I am a housewife and I’m not even married. I feel like I have been thrust into something I never wanted.

On the rare occasions when I need to vent, you will say to me but she is still your Mum, yes, you’re right, she is, but we have been dealing with this for so long now that I can hardly remember the person that she was before, I am blinded by the person she is currently, and scared of the person she will eventually become.

I’m not going to explain my life to you, what would be the point, you would never be able to understand. After many conversations with others in the same position as myself, there seems to be a common point on which we all agree, that unless you care for someone you can never fully understand what it is like, or how difficult it actually is.

Instead of passing judgement, spare a thought for those of us who find ourselves in this situation and are doing the best we can. We are human after all and no one is perfect.


Maddie x



Chance encounter

Dear WordPress,

This week you have decided to ask me about chance encounters.

Over the course of my life I have had many of those, some good and some bad. Take for example the time I had my first meeting with a Dulux Dog (Old English Sheepdog), which the adverts had portrayed as very friendly, I still carry the scar.

Perhaps that was just the start because as time marched on I would add more scars to that first one. Only I would carry them on my heart and not my thumb.

My meeting with the man I would love for 16 years really was a chance encounter. He was nothing more than a voice drifting through the airwaves, but oh that accent, I was hooked. I told my friends to be quiet, we were strangers on their channel, we needed to let them talk. He thanked me and then carried on about his business. I never thought much more about it.

Around the same time the following week he passed through my town again and called for me. As I wasn’t there my friend answered and told him this. He gave her his number and asked that she pass it along to me, which she did.

It’s a weird feeling having a strangers number in your hands, trying to decide whether to make the call or not. I’ve always said I believe that we meet people for a reason,we just don’t know in that instant if the outcome will be good or bad.

I sat for a long time, debating with myself, winning and losing arguments and eventually dialled the number, the same voice, like honey, only sleepy. We talked for a hour.

There was an instant attraction, for me anyway, which apparently left me blind to reason and common sense.Our first date was at a local Chinese restaurant followed by a walk beside the sea. We kissed under the stars, it felt so romantic, but I was young and naive.

He told me never to fall in love with him. I should have listened, but my heart ruled my head. I didn’t think he meant it, it took me 16 years to realise that he did.

There were good times and bad times, and if I am honest the only thing I regret is that I let too much time pass before realisation dawned.

Unbeknown to me at the time, my chance encounter shaped my future relationships and my idea of love, it is not all hearts and flowers as it once was.

Love Me x

(Written for The Daily Post Discover Challenge – Chance Encounters)

Dear Sundays

We always had a weird friendship you and I.

For a long time I was one of those people who hated the other kind of people, those who celebrated the beginning of the weekend. For years I worked the Saturday night shift, which meant for me, Sundays were reserved for sleeping.

Eventually I gave up the weekend working, things at home were starting to decline and there was this brief period of time where I did look forward to your arrival. That day of rest and relaxation before the start of another working week was very much appreciated. I believe that’s what the big man upstairs intended it to be used for.

Lately however my opinion of you has changed, not I have to say through any fault of your own, you just happen to be the day on which church services are held.

Aggie likes to go to church, it is one routine from which she never seems to waver,. I have no issue with that at all, it is the preparation before hand that causes me so much stress. Now dear Sunday, I go to bed the evening before and feel anxious because I now know how things will be when your morning rolls around.

I’m sorry I’m ranting at you, but I’m tired, awoken from sleep at 7.30 am by the shouts and screams as Bert tries to clean Aggie after yet another episode of bed wetting, meaning I had to intervene and place her in the shower. Not an easy task when you’ve not even woken up yourself. This was before I even got round to the matter of getting her dressed, which this morning earned me another punch in the chest almost knocking me off my feet.

I have no idea what she is more angry about, but she often tells us that people are coming into the house to do these things, it is never her. Don’t get me wrong, I do know how humiliating it must be for her, but it is for Bert and I too, and unlike her we do not forget as easy.

I always imagined other peoples Sundays involved hanging out with friends, strolls in the park, catching up on missed TV shows from the busy week that has just passed and more importantly kicking back and catching your breath.

Sometimes I wish mine were like that.

See you next week.

Love Me x

Dear Tuesday,

You’re the second day of my working week, usually quiet in your nature and regarded as unimportant by some. I think perhaps you are judged unfairly, because you provide an important bridge to Wednesday, also referred to as hump day, a stepping stone towards the weekend.

I feel a bit deflated today Tuesday, even though I can’t put my finger on the exact reason why. Tiredness cannot be ruled out, nor can work. It’s been a tough couple of days which have left me a touch frazzled and feeling lost.

Winter is almost over and touches of Spring are starting to appear, most notably the clusters of Primroses and Bluebells that begin to blossom despite the early morning frosts.

Sunshine adds a different hue to the lengthening days bringing with it the hint of possibility. Sometimes I wish I lived a normal life, able to enjoy the things that others take for granted. Walks on the beach, chips on a park bench and a kiss on the lips from someone you love. Such simple pleasures that seem so out of reach.

My days are all the same, the pressures of home life following seamlessly on from the pressures of work, with no end in sight.

I wonder sometimes how I manage to carry on, but I do, because there is no other option. There is no time to stand still because life recklessly crashes forward.

All I can do is go with the flow.

Say hello to Wednesday and tell her I’ll see her tomorrow.



What just happened?

Hey you,

What on earth was going on with this day, I bet you didn’t expect that when you walked through the door this morning. It’s a good job you’re smart enough to know that shit happens and when it does it’s usually on a Friday or a Monday.

You can breathe now, you know that right. This day is  done and you can stop stressing until tomorrow. You’ll not, I know that, but I feel obliged to tell you anyway.

Some things are out of your control and today just happened to be a shining example of that. Don’t worry, your work will still be there tomorrow, stacking up around you like dominoes. Just tread carefully, we don’t want to do anything that will start that chain reaction.

I love the words plan and prioritise, don’t you. They invoke the sense that you can do anything as long as you have given it due consideration. The sad thing is though, it’s hard to think straight when you’re standing at the foot of an avalanche that threatens to consume you. You just have to stand your ground and have hope, or maybe it’s faith. Hope that you can make it through and live to see another day.

There’s this sense of dread within you, I can feel it. This fear of what is to come, what lies ahead.

Keep breathing, we’ll face that bridge when we come to it.



Just keep on going…

Dear Me,

I know you’re stressing about going back to work tomorrow, you will more than most and no matter how many times I tell you that your worrying is pointless, you will still do it.

You’re not the only person who dreads going back after a spell away, if you would ever allow yourself to think about it logically you would realise this.

I know you’re feeling a bit lost this week, it didn’t really turn out how you intended did it, for many reasons. The break that you hoped would be relaxing turned into a bit of a nightmare, but hey, you got through it and tomorrow is the start of a new week, you just have to up and move on.

I know you don’t always acknowledge it, but you did OK this week. Sure some things could have been handled better, but you’re not an expert, so why do you expect so much from yourself.There never was going to be a handbook that walked you through how to deal with the side of Dementia that shows you bed wetting is not solely reserved for children, that was always going to be something you would have to learn for yourself. You did, can’t you see that. You dealt with it as you needed too and for now hopefully it is a problem solved, don’t dwell on it any more, you need  to move on.

You need to remind yourself to take things one day at a time, perhaps even one step at a time. I know sometimes life consumes you, because I know you better than you know yourself, but this anxiety and worry is doing you no good, be kind to yourself, because without you, there is nothing else.

Take time, breathe and relax, tomorrow is another day.