Self Care Pisses Me Off

Self care is a valued concept for living a balanced and healthy life. I believe that and understand its necessity. But today, it just seriously just pisses me off.

I care for my 85 year old ailing mother who is not long for this world. But that is just the ending of my story. I am a professional woman, self employed and generally speaking a fairly well adjusted individual. I am a 1.5 generation immigrant from Viet Nam. I am the oldest and only daughter.

I have been taking care of her for the last thirty years. She has suffered from a series of illnesses, both mysterious and resolved. I have been to every doctor’s appointment with my mom during that time. I have taken care of her whether I am living with her or not.

I am currently living with my mom. She does not want anyone else to care for her but me. I have tried to hire caregivers but none of them are able to last. My mother is one of the most negative and difficult people I know. Rather than encouragement or love, her currencies of choice are guilt and complaints disguised as plaintive need.

Rather than say, “I am hungry,” it is “Don’t you care if I am hungry? I have been so hungry.” Infuriating.

Please understand I love my mother. I want to take care of her. I want her final days to be comfortable and peaceful but to say caring for her is difficult is a crushing understatement. Being a caregiver is a soul sucking. She is scared to be alone so I have given up going to the gym and my beloved yoga classes. I barely walk my dog these days. I work mostly from home even before the pandemic so that I can be here when she needs me.

She does not sleep well and has gotten to the point of her illness that nothing tastes good to her. My days are a razor’s edge balance of trying to get work done and make money, making sure she is comfortable, making sure she takes her meds correctly and timely, making meals and listening to her complain.

There are no days off. I do not get weekends off. I do not get paid holidays. I do not get a sick day. I do not get a personal day.

Caregiving is constant and unrelenting. It is exhausting, emotionally painful and intellectually numbing. And even though I know I will appreciate this time I have with my mom once she is gone, at least for today, I cannot see through the haze of exhaustion and the oppressive responsibility of caring for another human being who is dying.

So back to the self care issue. I know I need it. I know I need to “take some time for myself”. I know I am overburdened and overwhelmed. I know I desperately need a break. But the last I checked, there are only 24 hours in a day and one cannot “find time” under the sofa cushion, despite best efforts.

Self care becomes another obligation and responsibility. It is just another thing I need and want to do but cannot do it consistently and certainly not well. In the back of my mind is always a fear of my mother dying alone, without anyone with her because I was not there. Irrational? Yes.

But that feeling is so real, it is tangible. It has shape and tentacles reaching into every aspect of my day and thoughts, especially when I am engaged in self care.

As I said, self care just pisses me off.