Mine
That is a beautiful realization. I don’t need to tell you that doesn’t mean martyrdom, or that you need to start taking care of yourself instead.
But I found it worthwhile to really consider what caregiving means, when it comes to difficult children.
People in need of care have different levels of insight and acceptance. I’ve been a caregiver for my parents who, with varying degrees, understood that they needed it, did what they could to stay healthy and were grateful.
My neighbor takes care of her severely retarded adult daughter. The daughter doesn’t understanding her own condition, and can’t cooperate in her own care.
Difficult adult children may or may not have insight but they are able to comprehend and do have free will. I think the only care we can give them is to help them recognize and seek professional support for their conditions and not enable their continued disability.
I think we can confuse caring about them for caring for them. It’s hard not to.
It hurts me to think of the life my son is choosing right now. But my suffering is just that — my suffering. It doesn’t move the needle and won’t even be noticed as long as he’s stuck in his head. So that’s not caregiving.
And it’s not caregiving to be trying harder to support him than he is trying to support himself. It skews reality. As hard as it is to see our kids struggling and poor, it’s easier than seeing them as parasitic, for me at least.