The overcaring carer?

There are times when I think I do too much for my husband. I help him undress, help him into bed, get up to him in the night... and I do it because I think he needs me to. And to help avoid a fall. And because it feels like the right thing to do. And it's quicker...

This morning I got up and went into his bedroom, which is downstairs. I didn't realise at first, it wasn't immediately obvious. He looked really comfy, he was listening to Classic FM on his Alexa. Our dog had jumped onto his (hospital) bed and was licking his face. All pretty much par for the course.

Then I noticed.

He was wearing a different night shirt. The bed was flatter (he has it angled to support his knees). He's not admitted it, and knows he's been rumbled. But he's definitely got himself up independently at some point.

So, why does it bother me? He didn't fall. Nothing bad happened. It meant he didn't call me so I got to sleep in a bit later. A nice thing to do, the kind of thing he used to do in our pre-Parkinson's life.

I think it's bothered me because it's "my job" to help him get up because "he can't". But he did, so he can.

What's behind this then? A craving to be recognised as a "good carer"? A delusion that I'm the only person who can help him? An attachment to the idea of needing to help?

It's overcaring, plain and simple. And that's not caring, that's micro-managing, disenfranchising, that's operating in Power Mode rather than Love Mode.

Note to self.