Control

As I may have mentioned earlier, my father has huntington's disease. He is somewhat severe in his diagnosis (unlike cancer, we do not have Stage I, II, III or IV). Every time we interact, my heart is chipped away a little. It is so hard to watch someone you love deteriorate. His movements have worsened; people staring like it's the circus doesn't help either. His logic and appropriateness have been floundering. Sometimes it's just too much to deal with.

Selfishly, I internalize his behavior. I can't help but think, "shit. that's going to be me". My therapist tells me that I am lovable, but it's hard to imagine loving someone with such difficulties. My father requires much more help than he'd like or than he'd ever want. He doesn't see the doctor ever. It's hard to communicate the importance of self-preservation to someone who doesn't care.

I entitled this control because my therapist had a great comment. She said "people with terminal illness know what's happening. They have had to submit control to their body. They seek something to control. It's different for everyone, but you have to let them have that control. That is there self-preservation".

I think that says it all.