Reality Bites -- Nine Years After Injury

It's been a long haul.  From being told 9 years ago I should consider disconnecting life support to raising an adult son all over again and going through all the difficulties in his adult life -- from diapers, to reading, to sexual awareness and now (at his age of 32) dealing with early troubled teen behaviour, it is draining to be doing this as I get closer to the age of 60.

I feel so guilty that I ahve begun to lose patience.  I feel that I should be so very proud of his progress and my dedication and perseverance that I should not permit myself the morbid "luxury" of feeling resentment at having no friends, no social life and no finances to even get my hair or nails done professionally.

I am angered with my form of selfishness in these past few weeks, feeling I should be so pleased that he is cognizant and improved enough to change...and I should not enter the "pity party" of wanting to have a life for myself.

But alas, this is my struggle -- and I so very feel for the struggle that he faces every single day of his life.  He remembers playing sports; he remembers having friends; he remembers having girls at his doorstep and now he has no one in his life but me.  As a handsome young man, he has not had sexual contact or the companionship of female or male friends for over 9 years...yet he amazes me with his humour, his empathy and his willingness to pursue improvement despite the confused fog in which he is perhaps permanently trapped.

I love my young man, but I do wish there were help for us on the horizon.  I fear for my own health with no respite coming my way. 

Funding has been denied and the battle to secure psychiatric follow-up has taken 9 years.  If he can remain stable for another 3 months, he will have at least some psychiatric involvement.

I ask that anyone reading this pray for the both of us, and thanks in advance for that thoughtfulness from strangers.