Has Caregiving Made You Jealous?
Do you look at other people’s lives and envy them? After all, they can leave the house any time they want. They can plan a vacation, sleep in on the weekends, or call up a girlfriend to go to lunch. You, you’re stuck, or at least that’s the way it feels. Caregiving started out as something you believed in, you wanted to do, but over the years it’s become relentless-and you feel you have no way out.
Are You Envious of Your Friends?
Their mom is still healthy. Another friend’s mom died ten years ago – you’re not sure which friend you envy the most! Yes, they have to work – but that means they get dressed, leave the house, eat lunch out, make money, and feel like a productive member of society.
You feel like life is passing you by.
I felt that way, too. Barely 40 and I was caring for my mother who had Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s in my home. I couldn’t leave her because she could fall, wander off, or call 9-1-1 for the umpteenth time. (She did that when I was home as well-I think she just liked the cute guys in uniform!).
If I left her home with my husband or children, I felt guilty. She’d always find a way to sabotage any time I had a true outing – one time she actually managed to pull the roller ball out of the deodorant and drink it! Not kidding. We called poison control and all she had to do was to drink a glass of milk – which we had to practically force down her (don’t think this is all that odd – caregivers have some great stories). Wild times, but somehow we made it.
Begin to see your home as a haven – and cultivate hobbies and interests right where you are.
Feeling jealous isn’t fun, but it’s like a tiny alarm telling you you’re not happy. What can you do about it? Yes, you can hire home health aides, call your church or community center for volunteers, and get out when you can – but there’s something else. I learned that eventually I’d have to stop running from my life. Caregiving was my life. I chose it. I knew it was for a season, and while that season seemed to awfully long and exhausting at times, I knew my mom needed me. In time, I began to see that my friends didn’t have it as easy as I thought they did, and I’d rather have my own set of problems and concerns than anyone else’s.
What resources do you have within reach?
For me, I started writing every day. I captured our life on paper. Every time my mother would infuriate me, I’d write it down. Every time she said something kooky, I’d rush to the paper. Somehow my words brought relief-and purpose. I also used the Food Channel as a friend. I learned to cook with Paula Dean and the Barefoot Contessa. I traveled the world with the Travel Channel-and would even hop onto the Internet to learn more about a place or its culture. I painted. I bought sunflowers and gladiolas at the grocery store and I’d paint them with oils on small canvases – and soon my family and friends started to request my miniature gardens.
I accepted caregiving and made peace with my own life.
Boy, it wasn’t easy, but slowly I began to let go of peering into the windows of everyone else’s life and believing they had it better than I did.
I continued to write. I photographed my mother’s hands. I napped when I needed to, and I gave my mother a home passing. I don’t think either of us could have ever gotten to this place of peace until I accepted my life, as is. In retrospect, I’m grateful for that time with my mother. The green-eyed monster learned that he was just going to have to hang out—because I wasn’t going anywhere.
