Thanks @RiverSeal
Getting clarity around these two concepts has helped me sift through my reaction and gives me the language to better assess this situation. The need to consider my duty of care/ dignity of risk for my son is critical, and it extends to his daughter (my granddaughter) AND to myself.
It is self-evident that I have a duty of care to them both, and previously the family court had allocated a formal undertaking to that effect. That is no longer in place but possibly my heightened sense of responsibility hasn’t been set aside and I’m still hyper vigilant about the risk his health poses to his relationships with his daughter, himself and me.
He’s also defensive about any comment or attitude that suggests he isn’t able to parent his daughter, even though I repeatedly remark on his natural skill and ease in the role. He becomes another person when he is with his daughter and it is a joy to be with them when the love just oozes out of them!
However, his mental and physical limitations are real barriers, which I know causes him anxiety, and I find myself walking on eggshells, assessing every action, choice and conversation. My anxiety becomes obvious, as does his anxiety about my anxiety, and perceived lack of trust, which then triggers his anger … what a roller coaster.
This is where the duty of care to myself comes into consideration. I chose to leave the most recent holiday access visit because I was struggling with his increasing anxiety and expressions of anger. There were accusations that I was undermining him, when I felt he was the one who was undermining me and becoming jealous of my relationship with his daughter. His anger became verbally abusive at one point and his daughter witnessed this outburst, causing distress. My duty of care is to deescalate the situation, which I did … and dignity of risk? Well, he has the right to express his anger but not to the degree that it causes harm. It seems he’s not aware of the point where it moves from anger to abuse.
One of the things he said to me during the outburst was, “why don’t you talk to me like an adult, like you talk to your friends and like you talk to [my granddaughter]” He sounded just like an abandoned two year old child and my heart broke even more.
Which brings me to that question, in protecting myself, am I adding to the risks he then has to manage?
He lives alone, except for these access visits, he can’t work at the minute due to his complex health issues, including his mental illness, and because he relocated last year to be nearer his daughter (her mother made choices without any consideration of my son’s needs) he has no local circle of friends or family to call on when he needs help. His father is an hour away, and it’s a three and a half drive for me to get to him.
How do I/ we increase the emotional, financial, community and professional supports he can draw on so he can be the best parent possible, maintaining a level of health and minimising the risk to himself and his daughter. Right now, I have no obvious solution for the need and feel uncertain about even beginning the conversation with him. He’s turning 40 later this year and it does seem like this is a crucial moment in his life to establish his independence.
When this has been my goal as his parent, supporting him to become an adult, why am I feeling so frightened? Is it really a lack of trust in him, am I overly pessimistic and unnecessarily protective?
Have others had to navigate this environment? Any stories of how this has been managed would be appreciated.
Bit of a long post tonight 🤣 best get a bit of sleep 😴
