I’ve been away for almost 3 weeks, and just caught up.
RVM, of course I don’t know you nor the basis for your opinion about counseling or therapy. All I can do is tell you (again, sorry if I am being repetitious!) my story, briefly. My brother washed his hands of my dad and stepmom after they had a fight. He called me and said “it’s your turn” (I had always offered to help and he did take me up on it occasionally during his 4 years taking care of them). They called him every day for a year and he never took a call. My dad was bitter when I started supervising his care. I felt an obligation and did it because I worried that he had no one else, and my daughter (just finishing middle school when I started) loved her grandpa. But I really hated it. I felt like I was being electrocuted every time I walked into their house.
After a couple of years, along came Hurricane Sandy which left their house without power for 2 weeks. My daughter and I live in an apartment 2 flights up, with the only door that closes being the one to the bathroom. I have to pass through her room to get to my (tiny) room. And my stepmother was progressing rapidly down the dementia road and needed a lot of physical care. My dad had just had an operation on his vertebrae (at age 88!) He wanted to stay home and cook on a Coleman stove and get around the house with flashlights and a propane lantern. I found a place for my daughter to stay (NYC public schools were closed anyway because most subway lines weren’t working) and got them up the steps to my house. This lasted almost 2 weeks and I thought I would have a nervous breakdown.
When I finally got them home and got my father to accept more paid help for my stepmother (which they could afford but resisted), I could not relax. After a couple of weeks, I asked my friends for recommendations for a therapist. I sort of knew I needed to go but it seemed overwhelming to 1) find someone, and 2) tell this person my whole story before it would do any good. But it actually helped from the very first visit. My therapist told me that whatever mixed feelings I had about my dad (and there were plenty), it would be much better for me to work on resolving them while he was still alive. But she also helped me with relaxation techniques to deal with the day-to-day stuff.
By the time my dad died a couple of years later, I was so much more at peace than I was when I started seeing this therapist. Really, she saved me. And every time I felt overwhelmed, she said, “you have a choice. You don’t have to do this, or you can continue.” And she was right. But I am very grateful that with her help I was able to continue to manage their care and help my dad accept the need for outside help, as well as accepting that I did a “good enough” job, that I couldn’t move them in with me or go there (an hour each way) every day.
Now, of course there are parents that are just impossible and I am not judging you, not at all, for throwing up your hands in distress here. But in my extremely humble opinion, therapy might help with that.
In any event, I am so sorry you are in this position. (((((hugs)))))!!!