I think I have had enough

I am a writer and by that I mean I like to journal rather than 'speak' my experience. In fact, I have written my memoirs (unpublished) about my previous life of more than 30 years with an undiagnosed schizophrenic husband. (He was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and PTSD but I definitely think it was a misdiagnosis). I tried my best to love and support his crazy ideas, his addiction to sex and pornography, his devil-may-care attitude to money, his manipulation, and lies. But the straw that broke the camel's back was finding that he had sexually abused our youngest son when he was at home looking after him because my schizophrenic husband had lost his job. The pain I felt and the pain I am still dealing with is horrific.

The man that I should have been able to trust totally betrayed our family and never even apologised. He had many sexual encounters with other women ranging from one-night stands with prostitutes to hooking up with swingers. He abused my children. He abused me. Needless to say, we are divorced.

My middle son (I have 3 sons) was diagnosed with schizophrenia about 18 months ago. He was also sexually abused (by a family 'friend') when he was 12 years old. He is now 33 years old. My middle son has wreaked havoc on our family. He is just like his father. Every time we let him 'in' to the family circle, he behaves kindly for a while but then when he becomes unwell, he plays the victim card and turns the tables against himself. His latest painful accusation is that his younger brother is lying about the abuse his father put him through and in fact, according to my middle son, both of his brothers are out to get him. Clearly, he is unwell but I can't seem to get past the hurt he has caused our family. He is clever and cunning and does things like recording telephone conversations without our knowledge and threatening to give them to his father. Both my eldest and youngest sons have been traumatized by his behaviour. In a vain effort to include my middle son in family gatherings and events, I have maintained a relationship with him. I have given him thousands of dollars over the years which he has never paid back. He has said he will do things and he never does them. He has lied. He has got his life together and then let it fall apart by not taking his meds (which I have tried in vain to help him with). I cannot care for him anymore. I am spent.

I read about carers through the Sane online forums who are putting themselves through hell in order to care for their loved ones and I feel guilty. I feel guilty because I am literally at the end of my tether. I can't be a 'carer of a loved one' anymore because I don't care. I love him but I don't care. I cannot believe that I gave birth to a person who was raised with love, hugs, support, education, time, moral values, principles, and care, and yet he is so unreachable. He takes and takes and takes and never gives anything back. He has never bought me a birthday card and hints that I should spend $500 on a camera for him on his birthday.

Tonight he was supposed to get his monthly antipsychotic injection from the psychiatrist and stay with my second husband and me for the night but he hasn't shown up. I know he has gone 'underground' again. I don't want to let him go but I can't do this anymore. I read of parents who run after their unwell adult children and I ask myself what is wrong with me? He says he wants to move interstate and begin a new life. I actually hope he will do this and that I never hear from him again. And then I feel guilty. When is enough, enough? I think back to the last time he was in the hospital awaiting an assessment from the psychiatric registrar and he ran away. It was 2.30 am and he left the hospital and ran down a dark alley in the middle of a city and I ran after him! What was I thinking??? I ended up phoning my husband to come and get me. I was frightened. I was vulnerable. I was putting my own safety ahead of my son.

What should I do? Do I let him loose? I have called his psychiatrist and told him (his receptionist) that my son is unwell. I have tried everything. I have budgeted for him. I have cooked for him. I have cleaned for him. I have accompanied him to Dr's appointments. I have allowed him to live at home with me. I have paid for his accommodation elsewhere. I have sat through intense conversations with him until I am exhausted only to find that nothing has changed. I have kept his 'secrets' which concern me. I never know when I can believe him or not.

I suspect that I am no longer a carer of a 'loved one'. I want to let him go. And yet the guilt is tough. Is there anyone else out there who has lived this with an adult son?