Yesterday in a phone call with my older son, I was forced to accept something that I have not wanted to accept. My younger son is a paranoid schizophrenic. And my older son is, and has been, his brother's legal guardian for some time now. I don't think there has been any conspiracy to keep the truth from us, but neither my husband nor I knew about the legal guardianship.
I still cannot seem to wrap my mind around this issue, perhaps because mental illness is something that seems so dramatic on tv, and we just have not had any of those dramatic events in our family. Yes, he's always had trouble with certain things, and that trouble has grown over the years. But because he has not lived with us since he was 20, and has, in fact, lived so far from us that we see him only once or twice a year, and because in most cases schizophrenia doesn't begin to manifest itself until that age in a person's life, my husband and I have not been face-to-face with the changes. But after talking with my older son, I went online and read as much as I could about paranoid schizophrenia. I could definitely see that many of the symptoms were things I'd noticed about my younger child but had written off as quirks of his personality or phases he was going through. Apparently I was in denial.
As long as the two of them live together, I guess I'm not as worried as I otherwise might be, and my older son seems determined to take care of his brother. However, he also wants to see if his brother can live on his own and if he can travel on his own. He also concurs with his brother's decision to avoid medication. These are not necessarily decisions that my husband and I would make. It makes me angry that I've been so shut out of various aspects of this process. I don't need to be protected from the truth. But I do understand why my husband and I are being marginalized. Both of my sons seem to fear that if their dad and I step in and take control, then they become relegated to dependents again. It's not that we WANT to take over the handling of this--I don't know what to call it--"situation" is hardly strong enough--"matter," I guess. But we seem better equipped to deal with everything, more so than my unemployed older son and his hard-working patient wife.
Or are we? I don't know. My mind feels as if it is trying to pinch a drop of mercury. I can't seem to grasp anything solid. I don't know the legalities the way my older son knows them, and it's irritating that trying to get information from either of them is like trying to pry state secrets out of a master CIA agent. I can understand that my younger son's paranoia keeps him from sharing, and I can understand that my older son's desire to give his brother as much autonomy and privacy as possible keeps him from prying too much or passing on too much information. I just can't believe that that is the best plan. After all, my husband does have a degree in psychology, and I read everything medical I can get my hands on. We are both control freaks, though. I know that. We want to step in and problem-solve and fix things for our boys. We always have.
At some point, though, our lack of knowledge and awareness of what is going on is not going to be a good thing. If my older son and his wife decide that taking care of my younger son is getting in the way of their having a family of their own, then where will he be? Will he come to live with us, after so many years of trying to be a stranger to us? We need to be kept in the loop, for the sake of everyone concerned. I don't know why we weren't contacted at all by any state agencies during the process of declaring my son disabled and eligible for SS benefits.
I'm trying to get a handle on all this, but it's not easy. I love my sons. All I've ever wanted was for them to be healthy and happy. This news has completely ruined any excitement and anticipation I've felt about our trip to Hawaii. It's like I should not dare to enjoy myself when something so drastic has happened to my family. And yet, if I had not talked at length with my older son yesterday, I'd still be in denial, still thinking that somehow this was a temporary affair, the result of an overly persuasive and manipulative friend who convinced my son that he was ill, and that my son would "come to his senses" and grow up and be responsible. Now I have to deal with the fact that it's not going to happen that way and that all the plans and hopes and dreams I've had for both my sons seem to be rotting in front of my eyes.
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