Family Therapy

We've been going to Family Therapy for a few months now. It's a funny old session. But it has really helped me. I hope eventually it will help us all.

Before Family Therapy, Richard's consultant would call me in now and then to be part of his assessment. He saw Richard several times in between. It was, as I always expected it to be, all about Richard. I felt unsupported but I felt a sense of duty too. I would never have called myself a carer and I would never have dreamed of asking for help and support.

Since Richard's new diagnosis I have benefited greatly from the realisation of his care team that I am part of his life. I suppose I have been fortunate with the postcode lottery because it has afforded us Family Therapy. Richard is still seen by his care team without me present, which is very important.

Family Therapy is held by a group of professionals. We talk too one member mainly and the rest of the team watch the session on video. Every now and then they phone through with pointers and near the end they come into the room and share their thoughts on the session.

Richard has had a few clashes with work and I don't like to pull Craig out of school if I can help it. Overall it has either been me or one or both of the other two. Craig doesn't always have much to say but he likes to be centre of attention and we notice his behaviour change if Richard or I become too self focused.

I still don't know whether Richard takes it seriously. He says disparaging things about the counsellors but when I recently tried to stop going, because I thought there was no point without him, he made a huge effort to be there.

It's been a bit skewed because several sessions have been me on my own. But it has definitely been worth it. I am not made to feel as if the problems we are experiencing are my fault. I have been able to be open about my own behaviour, which can be rather erratic under all this pressure from home. I have come to understand a whole lot more about personality disorder and why Richard does and says the things he does. I have become more at ease talking about the daily struggles we face. I have smiled, told a few stories of good times, told a lot of stories about bad times, cried until I wondered if I could cry no more. I have learned not to wear mascara to these sessions, it may make me feel good on the way in but smudged mascara on the way out doesn't do anything to make me feel better.

I feel listened to. When I talk to friends and family it is hard to know if they are listening because they are interested or because you've cornered them and there is nowhere to turn. I feel they want to shake me and tell me to leave him. I fear they might not want to talk to me again because they know the next episode will be the same as the previous one and I am so wrapped up in my life.

In Family Therapy all our views are valid. Whether it's that Craig has drawn a funny picture, that Richard thinks I am mad, that I just want to curl up in a ball and never wake up. It all means something. It's all part of our family tapestry.

I don't know if Richard will be able to keep going. I don't know how long we will be allowed to attend for. But it is so valuable to me at the moment. To know that there are people who can make sense of the mayhem that is our world. To know that they have sensible views and beliefs. To be able to trust them with our self-destruction and the belief that some relief will come from these sessions, slowly but surely.

The Carer's Assessment

I recently had my second annual carer's assessment. When I did the one last year I received a form through the post and I filled it in with Richard. In hindsight this may not have been the most sensible thing to do. After all, it was an assessment of myself rather than him. But it felt right at the time.

This year I was called in to see his care coordinator. We went through a long list of questions. How much time do I spend doing practical tasks for Richard? How much time do I spend supporting him emotionally. How much time do I get for myself? Have I been held back by him in terms of opportunities in life? Have I got a lesser quality of life?

It's hard going through with the carer's assessment. The main reason being that I struggle to see myself as a carer. I haven't managed to come up with a different name for myself. But you would probably struggle to see me as a carer too. Richard is able to hold down a full time job or enough part time jobs to be working full time hours. He is incredibly intelligent. He does not require my help filling in forms. He does not need to be toileted. He does not need to be washed. He does not need to be dressed. If I don't do his ironing he is able to do it. If I didn't feed him he would eat. If I didn't talk to him he would talk to his many friends.

Yet I do a lot for Richard too. For a long time I thought the things I was doing were usual things partners do in any relationship. I still think they are... ...only I have to extend myself further than the usual partner would. It's a hard line to draw, a grey area. Where do you stop being a partner and start being a carer? Is it when you feed someone good home-cooked food when you know they would eat rubbish if you didn't? Is it when you iron someone's shirts because they are working themselves into the ground and it's the only thing you can do to show your support? Is it when you allow yourself to be woken at 3 or 4 or 5 or some ungodly hour most mornings until you plead and beg to be allowed to sleep tomorrow morning? Is it when you set up dosette boxes for your partner's medicines and ensure you reorder them in good time? Is it trying to be enthusiastic about the latest great idea that you know will disrupt your family life, yet again? Is it when you listen to him feeling rubbish about himself and try to help him see his good points? Is it being ready to call an ambulance if you find him attempting an overdose? Is it being willing to talk about suicidal thoughts even though it's ripping your heart out? Is it trying to keep on top of the housework so he can focus just on his work and things which are causing him stress?

And at the end of the assessment they ask what they can do to help support you. I asked what they can offer because I didn't know what to ask for. The answer is that there used to be a carer's grant which would pay for a carer to go away and the person they care for to be looked after safely. The grant no longer exists so they can't offer any support. But even if the grant hadn't stopped it would be no use to me and I wouldn't have accepted it. Richard is quite safe to be left alone. If I need to go away for a weekend and I put my mind to it I can do it. It's the day to day strain which is difficult and there's nothing anyone can do to support me with that. Which leaves me wondering if I should just opt out of next years carer's assessment...

Chaos is Fun

Last night, just as we all went to bed, I passed a comment to Richard about the chaotic lifestyle we lead. I said I can't live like that all the time and there needs to be some stability somewhere within my life. Richard responded by telling me that chaos is fun.

This morning he was looking through his bag and could not find three pieces of paper which had handed me to put in there at the weekend. I remember him passing them to me. I remember sliding them into the bag, down the side of the laptop. At the time he discovered they were missing I was asleep in bed, having already been woken up to iron a shirt I had admittedly promised and forgotten to iron the night before. He came upstairs and told me the pages had gone missing. He was irritable but not threatening. But I knew I was being told to get out of bed now and that he would become extremely angry if I did not get out of bed.

He searched the office. I searched the bag he had already looked in. Richard was frantic. He needed a memory stick so I found one of those and satisfied I had at least done something to help I went back to bed. This is a regular occurrence in our household. I am held responsible for misplacing items I have not misplaced. I have learned to walk away when a crisis can well and truly not have been caused by me.

Is chaos fun? I don't believe it is.

A Difference of Opinion

Yesterday I had a long text conversation with my partner about whether or not to pick him up from somewhere that he had requested me to pick him up from. I have cited below one text from this conversation to demonstrate the sort of conversation we had:

"To be fair, there is no job or task in the house that you can do better or even nearly equal to me. And there are plenty you can't do. Therefore the best function you can perform, logically, is to service me so I can do those jobs and tasks instead of you and do them properly. There is no logic to you doing anything because I eclipse you on everything. Supporting me is the only real purpose. Sadly you think you are better than that, so you sabotage my work and the whole family suffers. All we do is support you and I try to press on in spite of you not helped by you."

Richard and I see things very differently. I think that I work very hard in our house, that he has no care or appreciation for the work that I do and is therefore careless about looking after the work I have undertaken. The lack of attention to keeping surfaces I have cleared clear, floors I have vacuumed clean, tidied up drawers strewn shows to me a definite and evidence-based lack of respect. Richard feels he is very busy, that he deserves one hundred percent of my attention and that I have no feelings. He can do whatever he would like to me, as far as he is concerned, and if I say I am upset it is irrelevant. If I cry it is, in his words, "for attention".

The difference in opinion in this particular instance was caused because I put a boundary down stating that I would only pick him up if he spoke to me with respect and did not continue to tell me I was useless. The outcome was that he relented, promised to abide by my boundaries and I therefore rewarded Richard by collecting him as he had requested.

About My Blog

As I sit trying to write the first few words of this blog the I want to start off by saying, "My name is..."

I can't do that though. This blog is about my experiences with a partner who has been diagnosed with a personality disorder. I have contemplated this over and over and I have finally decided that the only way I can truly tell my story is by inventing a name. It is an odd thing to do. Rather like when I lost my surname to marriage: even though I really wanted to, something was missing.

However, I must protect my partner's identity as well as his family and any friends, colleagues etc. I may mention. And of course myself. Some of the things I will include in this blog will not be things I am proud of doing, but I think it is important to include them.

So for the purposes of this blog my name is Joanne Sanderson, My partner is Richard and our son is Craig.

If you can identify with any aspect of my blog please feel free to comment or drop me an email.

Bye for now...