Are there elephants in my room, or is it just me?
Am I a good enough carer?
We all ask that one and to be frank we can never be good enough. We are not a three shift team of class A carers getting breaks and having a social life and we love the one we care for and have all that loss and heart pain on top.
We can only do our best. Then there is the paradox, we have to preserve ourselves too because if we collapse then everything goes awry. So the caring we give has to be limited.
It is tough indeed.
Now I will add the various PSP behaviours: Failure to comprehend the carers needs and limits, obsessive behaviour sometimes and in my case caring for an an ex social worker who wants her rights too!
Tonight Liz asked for her handbag and telephone when she went to bed. Most odd. We have had a good day with love and warmth. Twice in the past she has triggered Police visits saying I could not cope and that I needed help and the second time I was refusing to get her out of bed. The second time she was being so hostile I was trying to contain the situation by saying, "It is not safe to get you out of bed. I will answer all of your needs when you call me, but please just take an easy day." She called the police to complain and wailed down the phone only managing to get her address out!
Police interviews are humiliating no matter how nicely they do it.
She was non-plussed after the events and said she did not mean to do that.
Nothing came of it, but our address is now marked in their files.
So tonight I was actually frightened to leave her with her mobile phone. Unusually she insisted on having her hand bag and mobile phone with her. What was she going to do? Her hand bag is her walk away kit of purse and all. Was I up for another Police visit?
It broke my heart to tell her I did not trust her and she could not have her phone.
This is PSP!
Liz loves me to bits and we have a very loving relationship. We are mostly good together and have good times and hugs, but sometimes PSP brain kicks in and hell happens.
I am now frightened about what she might unintentionally do.
The shame of the police. and, being a private person I hate the the exposure of incessant visits and intrusive interviews from professionals, whom we need, into our private lives.
PSP is tough, even whilst their is love given and warm responses received.
PSP brings elephants into our rooms. With them come struggle and some shame.
It is the carers lot.