There was anger this morning when I took this photo of Eudosia. She had and I had a restless night, because when she feels anxious, she keeps asking the same 3 or 4 questions that no amount of attention, no answer can satisfy.

That’s her way to be in the world as a place that dementia makes more and more unfamiliar. Her daily landmarks vanishing like going out of a dream she can’t hold on to.

I felt no empathy and I hated it. I hated the realization that she manifested something in me too.

The neediness, the monkey mind and automatic rant, the constant feeling of being lost.

Everything was out in the open, naked bare.

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