Ugh. Today was one of those days I felt that I was going to implode. The week started off well — I pulled off a coup and, despite a nor’reaster here in Boston, I really did my best to take Mom out for dinner for her birthday, surprised her with a certificate to her favorite store, pulled out the stops with flowers and all…then the week’s been so crazy, between my diverticulitis/IBS continuing to act up — no doubt, aggravated by pressures at my day job and, now, taking on a grad class with a big paper due soon. I had just enough time on my way home from work, before running home to sit down and do more research, to stop by mom’s again to pick up some bills and help with some things. Even dropped off some shopping she needed.
I couldn’t hide my frustrations and fatigue from the long week, let alone today — and I was not feeling well in my stomach again. My mom could tell; and when I started to motion to leave, she started with The Mood, not being happy that I was leaving so soon. She always simply has to voice it…she must say it out loud that it’s never enough how long I stay, and even though I live 2 miles away and we spent the whole day together for her birthday last Sunday, before my unreal schedule kept me from doing much else but work and studying all this past week.. This was the clinker; she shot at me: “C’mon, Gary, some moms see their sons 2 or 3 times a week!”
Well, that might be true across the nation, but…I’d like to know how many 47-year-old grown sons, who are sole siblings due to one other one having died years ago, and who suffer from several serious chronic physical health issues, while trying to hold down an important full-time job and starting grad school to stay in the game through (huh!) retirement — and doing everything they can to help their widowed elderly parent — find the magical opportunity to see their mom several nights a week!!!? It’s not me.
I had a bag with a folder containing bills to take home to pay for my mom, and in my stress and frustration I actually threw it to the floor. My mom criticized me for losing my cool — it wasn’t about my inner stress meltdown at all. I just stayed silent, picked up the bag, and left, mumbling frustratingly down the stairs as I went out. On the way home stuck in a traffic jam, I did cellphone her quickly — and typically, my mom was very communicatively difficult, hostile and not understanding — finally I said, “Mum, you’re having unrealistic expectations to want that someone doing all I’m doing, with all I’m already going through, can be as cool and collected and flexible with his schedule as you’d like. If things continue like this, I’m going to need to contact the social worker and ask for additional help — because, just like you and I know that you are, I too am doing all the best that I can possibly do” — and we hung up and ended the convo.
I can talk to the President at my job during the day; deal with a dozen students with serious academic concerns; try to weather the pain in my gut through a work week; but get me having to spend a couple of hours in the evening with my mom, and I’m ready to tie the anchor to my neck, and jump ship. It’s not the tasks I need and want to do in helping her, that get to me… It’s she that gets to me; no length of time is ever long enough, nothing is ever quite good enough; I’m never quite “good son” enough. I don’t have the level of strength and energy she requires to be emotionally maintained. Sometimes I feel bad because I don’t always write here when things are going well… But I realize that a lot of us are probably likewise grabbing those “well” times to catch up on our “me” things that we need to get done between all our caregiving! I look at it as I come here when things are bad, knowing that’s what it is here for, to help and be helped, to listen and be listened to. It’s just one of those days. My mom is angry, afraid to face the future, unwilling to let go of the past…and because she won’t or can’t get involved in other activities during the week, I become her disproportionately enlarged emotional focus for those times I can get to see her. This will never end until the day she moves on. I just can’t kill my own health and self by trying to satisfy so many of her unrealistic emotional needs. Does this madness ever end???! -Gary.
It’s amazing how many of us have the same issues with Mom’s. Are we going to be this way with our children? I hope not.
I’ve come the the conclusion that this is till death do us part and I’ve got to be the one to accommodate. Seems no matter how much I give of my time, it’s not enough. This site has helped me so much. When my Mom came here 10 years ago it wasn’t here…..I looked. It helps me keep my sanity.
You must take care of your own health and take time to rest, Gary. I think our care recipients sometimes do not fully realize how exhausting it is to be their caregiver. They can sometimes just expect things of us without appreciating the things we do for them. I had a incident last night with my husband which once again made this very clear to me also. I sort of loss it with him too and told him what I thought of his attitude.
There is nothing wrong with confronting your Mom when she crosses the line. We have to try to maintain respect for our care recipients, but we cannot give them happiness. They have to find that in themselves. If we are doing what we reasonably can do, we also should not feel guilty for not doing more. Hang in there, Gary.
Hi Gary–I hope today brings you peace in knowing you are enough. All that you do is enough. You are enough–for your mom and, more importantly, for yourself.