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–it isn’t so good for you–or even your care receiver.

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.

Right?

And yes–you do. But are you caregiving too well?

What do I mean?

You can become obsessed with caregiivng and use it to avoid other aspects of your own life.

You can ruin your health and your relationships on this noble “holy grail.”

I’m a big proponent of family caregiving, but some cultures are so tightly bound to a sense of duty that people (particularly women) have few options and caregiving becomes a noose that’s winds up snuffing out lives and dreams.

And let’s face it, we bring our entire family history into our caregiving roles. OUr past experiences are like a bowl full of fish hooks–you can’t pull up just one without getting a whole mess of them.

Was your mother/father/spouse controlling?

Did you feel as if you could never totally please them?

Carol Bradley Bursack who writes a great blog at www.MindingOurElders.com reminded me that deep down we (all of us whether we consider ourselves obsessive-compulsive or not) struggle to achieve our parents love. We try to “earn” their blessing when in truth, we need to give ourselves our own deep sense of love, mercy, and acceptance.

No one can ever give to you what you need to give to yourself.

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.

You may even have 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). Being a parents for 20+ years–or not having the opportunity to parents can also contribute to a deep sense of needing to be needed, to belong and connect, to be good at something.

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–and in reality I felt like I never could do 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 in some way, 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! Take a deep breath, and make a new choice. Find the perfect in the imperfect.

You won’t be able to turn off your caregiving gene, but with some forethought, you can learn to balance out the needs of your loved one–and still find time to build a life outside of caregiving. You will begin to value the few moments you give yourself and look forward to taking a class, or even taking a walk.

~Carol O’Dell, author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

Tags: grief, hope