Burnout and fantasies of the death of the dependent one - feel guilty selfish and ashamed but would never do anything to hurt him.

I wrote this poem tonight. It needs a lot more work I’m sure since I’m not a poet. First poem I’ve written since high school over 25 years ago, first ever shared. I just really needed to express myself. There have to be lots of others who fantasize about being free from the burden of caring for a spouse at home.
Help

Thank you I said

To the baristas who were there
But not hearing me
As they were making the coffees
For others who ordered
In their daily routines like me

None of us pay attention
when the other is there
We repeat this habit daily
And carelessly talk to no one
While we pretend that they’ll hear
Because it’s polite to do so

The days usually vary
Once I get to the office
The challenges endless
But I get to use my brain
And I’m respected and treated
As a colleague and boss

On the way home I begin
To distract myself and prepare
for what’s coming, the evening
When my service will be required
Not a person but a spouse
Who’s needs aren’t important

He’s too young to be old

But he barks orders and groans
It’s a pity for sure
But there’s nothing to be done
But to march on to the doctors
And seek to reassure him

Would he be better to expire
That his pain would be removed
A floating soul in the air
With a body that works
And relief from the agony
That plagues him endlessly?

My soul aches for him as I wait
To remove his pants and shirt
He’s too young to be old
And to struggle to walk
To wait endlessly during the days
For the challenges to recede

I remain reluctantly by his side
Fighting the selfishness inside
The anger at the prison
That has become our lives
Endless trecks to the doctors
Slow repetition of the long nights

I long for freedom from him
I remember when I had toddlers
With the same kind of needs
and the hope for their futures,
Looking forward to the days
When they’d fly from the nest

They’d be healthy and able
To live on their own
Their whole lives ahead of them
A future and their own homes
And now I have graduated
To the next phase of life

But he’ll never get better

And take flight from our home
I am destined to serve him
For years til it ends
My hope is his death
When the window will open
For my next life’s chapter to begin

I know I am selfish but
Everyone says that I’m not
They think I’m quite selfless
But this aching inside me
For my freedom to come
Feels terribly wrong

Lord take my self pity

And help me to continue
To live through this morass.
I cannot endure it,
This self focused state
While he is right beside me

Might he make it though this?
Will I continue to serve
Out of habit and duty
Because the pattern is there
And he demands that I continue
To share all the pain?

My hopes they are waning
As sleep comes to relieve me
From the duty and long hours
It temporarily ends this struggle
To be a good wife as expected
While hating every moment

I can’t tell him I need his support
Or understanding of my needs
Because he gets angry and needy
Because he can’t fix it
He doesn’t want to be a burden
His needs are more important than mine

My soul wakes in the mornings
in anticipation of my days
The break from the man
That needs me so badly
But I can not stand to watch
Endlessly suffering in self pity

We’re a pair in a prison
That won’t let us free
From the stifling life
And sickness and pain
Stealing air from our lives
Killing us slowly

When it’s no longer us
And I recover the me
That was once a free spirit
Not living in fear
Of the next medical crisis
And the other shoe to drop

I will savor the moments
Of not bandaging the wounds
Of a man who is old
In his confinement from life
And I’ll dance and I’ll be
A young person again

My hope comes again
As I know he will die someday.
And I block out the present
When I’m home and emerged
In the servitude and duty
That is my purgatory.

Tomorrow will come and I’m happy
To need to pay the bills
Because it’s an excuse to
Have a job and pay someone else
To come in during the day
And I’m a free person at work