“No! I’m not obsessed with caregiving–it’s just something I have to do,” you argue back.
You have to give your loved ones their daily medication.
You have to take them to the doctors.
You have to bathe and them and change their clothes.
And yes–you do. But are you caregiving too well?
What do I mean?
I was recently at an event where a woman received the caregiver of the year award for her community.
Her daughter wrote a lovely letter about all her mother did for her mother.
The list started at about 5am and ended about midnight–with frequent middle of the night interruptions as well. The list went on and on. Daily baths, attention paid to her mother’s nails, lotions, pulling chin hairs…on and on and on. She got a standing ovation, but my heart ached for her.
She was in her early 50s and looked in her late 70s.
She was smiling but looked as if life had beat her with a crowbar.
It sounds vailiant. And it is, in some ways, but caregiving can be taken to the max–and isn’t good for you.
You can become obsessive–and use it to avoid other aspects of your own life. You can ruin your health and your relationships on this noble “holy grail.”
Some cultures are so tightly bound to family that they leave people few options and this committment, duty, becomes a noose that’s winds up not being good for anybody.
You can use caregiving to avoid your marriage, your health, your financial setbacks, your relationships with your own children or relatives. You can use caregiving and family duties to avoid going to work, building a career, returning to school, or finding a mate.
You husband or wife, mother or father can become your “living doll.”
Don’t be embarrassed. It’s easy to do.
After a lifetime of caring for others–your spouse, your children, maybe even having a career in the health/people related fields. Add onto that a natural propensity toward being a nurturer, and you’ve become “good” at caring. Too good. (This applies to men and women–men like to feel needed too).
How do you know if you’re obsessed with caregiving?
- Your caregiving duties continue to increase–more baths, more attention to detail.
- You tell yourself it’s necessary, but others seem to question you.
- You are an expert in your loved one’s illness but are ignoring your own body’s warning signs.
- You haven’t taken a day off in months.
- Your other relationships are dwindling.
- You feel as if you have nothing in common with the outside world.
- You constantly think, “they don’t understand.”
- You take a deep sense of pride when someone says you’re a great daughter/son/caregiver–and you actually try to create situations (subconsciously) where someone would be prompted to say this.
- You never sit down because there’s always something to do.
- You’re getting less than 5-6 hours sleep a night on a regular basis.
- You fear when your loved one dies and almost feel frantic at the thought of wide open days with no one to pick up after, watch, feed, or medicate.
I know, this just sounds like normal caregiving!
What’s the difference?
It’s more about intensity, urgency, and an underlying, almost imperceptible sense of fear–you’ll be found out, your loved one will “die on your watch,” they’ll take your mom from you, you’ll have to put her “in one of those places.”
What’s your unsaid driving force?
Fill in the blank…”I’m afraid that if I don’t ________, that __________will happen–and it’ll be my fault.”
*****
Now, be rational. Talk to yourself as if you were your best friend. Is this really true? Wouldn’t you (your best friend you) cut you a little slack?
There were times when I did get this sort of sick sense of pride that I was the “best caregiver in the world,” while underneath I felt like a sham–I felt like I never did enough, I never could “fix” or manage my life. Alzheimer’s really does a number on you–you feel like you owe it to your loved one to do everything you can for them–that this is such a horrible, horrific disease that you want to counter it. But you can’t.
I had many arguments: “If I’m going to do something, I might as well do it well. This is where God wants me and needs me. She’s my mother–and wasn’t this the right thing to do? Any of these sound familiar?
I couldn’t help it that my caregiving duties never ended.
I also know there are some of you out there who say you’re a perfectionist–you can’t stand a mess. You can’t relax until everything done and cleaned up. Really? If that were the case, then I could never relax because I’m not sure I’ve ever been “caught up” even once in my entire life?
It’s funny that we call that being a perfectionist.
I’ve changed that word in my mind to mean something different.
A perfectionist sees the “perfect” and the good in everyone and everything that sounds me.
I came across this mindset in a book by life coach and inspirational speaker, Allen Cohen.
This is who I choose to be–and how I choose to see the world. (It’s a work in progress and a daily, moment to moment choice).
Sometimes you just have to let the chaos rule!
No, an adult doesn’t have to have a full bath every day.
It’s okay to have a frozen meal, pizza, or eggs for dinner.
It’s okay if your there are dishes in your sink when you go to bed at night.
It’s okay to take a day–or (gasp) a weekend off and arrange for respite care.
It’s okay to sign up for a class once a week.
It’s okay to call and invite a friend to lunch.
It’s okay if you don’t take your loved one to follow up doctor appointments–just for a recheck.
It’s okay to notice that there are areas of caregiving that you might have taken too far.
Laugh at yourself. Take a deep breath, and make a new choice.
Find the perfect in the imperfect.
~I’m Carol O’Dell, author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir
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