Life Just Slapped Me in the Face – Now What?

Warning: Raw truths from the other side of caregiving

The Day After

It’s early morning. I’m in my office, staring out the window. And there it is—like a familiar old friend—the sun rising behind the ancient oaks, whispering through the branches, “I’m back.”

Then, suddenly, like the sting of a hard slap in the face, reality returns.

It’s July 5th, the day after yet another holiday. I’m relieved it’s over. I feel alone.

I’ve moved to Florida to find a life, to see the ocean and the lush greenness of this beautiful state, to find new friends, and do new things—you know, to live!

I moved to Florida four times, and left…

But this time, it was different. I finally decided that this was where I wanted to spend the rest of my life.

The Dream That Followed Me for Decades

You see, I had a dream. I’m sitting outside in the lanai. It’s nighttime and a warm breeze blows. There’s a soft amber glow from my lantern sitting next to my typewriter. Yes, typewriter. Back then, I never thought I would own a laptop. I didn’t even know how to use a computer.

But there would be lush green trees, flowers, and plants in my yard. It would be my place, my sanctuary, where I could relax, think, and write. That was my dream in my 20s. I wanted to save that dream for this chapter of my life.

Writing, A Plan, A Breath of Life

So here I am. Trying it one more time. I started this blog, Vital Sassy Seniors/People. I changed its name three times. I couldn’t figure out what the hell I wanted to write about. My direction seemed to change every time I turned around.

So, I had a conference with myself. “Who do I want to talk to? Well, of course, people in my age bracket, people who are searching for something more, be it health of mind and body, spirituality, to fall in love with life again, or find purpose—the same things I’m searching for.”

I was ecstatic. I felt like I had a new lease on life. I loved the learning part of blogging. I made a plethora of mistakes. It’s not a simple thing. But I still love it, and it gives me purpose—something I’ve longed for all my life.

I’m not satisfied with just getting up in the morning, doing the same thing every day, having nothing to create. I love plans, not in the way of planning the day or the next week. I thrive in spontaneity in that regard. I’m talking about futuristic and creative plans, even though they don’t always pan out, I need a plan—something to look forward to.

I want to create something. I need to do that. This is my time now.

So, I’m a dream chaser at heart, I guess.

When Dreams and Reality Collide

But what if my life partner has never been that way? He’s someone who only lives for today and thrives in the moment. For years, I thought there was something wrong with me because I’m not that way. We’re so different.

And yes, living in the moment is necessary and beneficial to the brain, but you also need plan B. You can’t live as if there’s no tomorrow. Because what if there is? But that’s another topic for another time.

So, what happens when your dreams are sucked out of you like a giant vacuum? Life suddenly and drastically changes. You find yourself suddenly a caregiver, feeling alone, and there’s no relief.

Doing It All Alone

You still want to do all the things you’re used to doing, and you want someone to do them with, but now you have to do it all alone. You take care of everything, alone.

Even the simplest things, like changing a lightbulb that you can’t quite reach, or help with carrying in heavy groceries—just little things you took for granted before, you now do yourself.

There’s no help for even the big things.

The Guilt That No One Talks About

And then you hate him. You’ve tried to stay healthy yourself. You’ve changed your diet drastically and given up unhealthy habits because you want to be there for the people you care about. You want to live.

You were thinking of the future, creating a plan to live until the very end, grasping it until your last breath. Because why not?

You’ve tried to keep him healthy. You bought the healthiest food, and you home-cooked all your meals. But there he is, continuing with a life-destroying habit that would hurt him and you.

And in the end, you become a caregiver, and you hate him—because deep down, you know he played a part in his own decline. You begged him to take care of himself. You saw it coming. And sometimes, you wish he would go away, or you could just run away, and worse yet, you tell him. You’re mad as hell.

He wasn’t trying to sabotage himself—he just couldn’t think beyond the moment. That’s how he’s always been. And I’ve always been the opposite.

But then you feel guilty for such horrifying, unthinkable thoughts. “What if that were me, nearly completely disabled? And he wished I’d go away?”

Of course, you don’t wish he’d go away. You’re still there, aren’t you? You’re still giving the best care you possibly can.

But you feel the need to comfort yourself, so you remind yourself that you’ve done everything within your power to stay healthy, avoid the medical system, and build something for the future.

You’ve always imagined growing old together, sitting on the front porch in the evenings, watching the sun slowly drift behind the old oaks as if they’re silently reassuring you, “All is good now, never fear, I’ll be here for you in the morning.“

What Matters Now

I go back and forth like a ping-pong ball—I’m on an emotional roller coaster day after day. I’m slowly drained of energy as if someone pulled my life support. Depression and exhaustion envelop.

So, what do you do? Hide your feelings from the world? No! You don’t. You must release those thoughts and feelings. Or you won’t survive.

What matters now is coping, living, and creating a new way—even if it doesn’t resemble what I had imagined. Even if I have to build it piece by piece, alone.

I’m Still in It

I’m still going through this—the hate-love—the bad days.

Sometimes, I’ll walk by and see him napping in his comfy chair, and my heart hurts. I want to hold on to him and say, “Everything’ll be okay…”

But I’m not there yet, and he knows.

Then we talk, real talk. I tell him sometimes I just cry. He says, “So do I.” Then tears well up. We both feel a little better for a while and continue with our day because that’s all we can do.

I don’t have the answers. Some days, I lose hope and feel like I’m dangling in the abyss, like the ‘Day After’—feeling alone.

But this isn’t the end of the story—and I remind myself of this. However, I know that’s only possible if I allow myself to go through the process.

There’s no place to hide. No place to run. All that’s left are three things: me, real, and truth.

Some Days Are Tough. Some Days Are Full of Hope

So, what do I do?

I write. I walk. Walking is lifesaving for me. During my walks, I share all my problems and worries with God. Sometimes I think He looks down at me and says, “Ohhh… It’s you again.” I admit, I’ve been quite a pest lately.

I’m not big on blabbering about my stuff to other people, but sometimes it becomes too much, like today.

I can’t advise on what you can do if your life has suddenly and drastically changed. For me, it’s waking, writing, reading an uplifting book or article, creating something, anything…

But I still have to have a plan, or I’ll wither.

Sometimes, a conversation with my son can turn my whole day around. We talk about real stuff, life’s ups and downs, and that, sometimes, it just takes doing the hard stuff.

Some days are tough.
Some days are full of hope.
And we get through…

Resources for Caregivers Who Need Support

If you’re caring for someone with an injury or chronic illness or just trying to make sense of it all, here are a couple of trustworthy places to start:

• Mayo Clinic – Caregiver Stress: Tips for Taking Care of Yourself
  Learn how caregiving impacts your health and get practical ways to protect your well-being.
• Family Caregiver Alliance – Support for Caregivers
  Practical tips, emotional support resources, and education for family caregivers of adults with physical and cognitive conditions.