Where has my compassion gone?

Have you seen it? 

I must have put it down and now I can't find it anywhere?

I hate the term compassion fatigue!  I'm not tired of being compassionate, I've just lost the ability to have it!

For the last 18 months since my mum died I have been faithfully 'caring' for my niece while she is in an adolescent secure psychiatric unit.  This has involved a fortnightly 210 mile round trip to visit her, almost daily phone calls, regularly shopping and managing her finances.

To be honest in my heart I have been 'caring' for her for the last 14 1/2 years, that is when my sister asked me to take care of her if anything should happen to her or my parents.  Well that something happened and in the last 6 years I've lost the three of them!

My compassion has wondered off in the past.  Over the two years that my niece lived with us I finally snapped, compassion was lost and the following 2 years were spent searching for that compassion, tempting it to come back.

But right now, this minute, I don't think I even want it to come back.  I'm sick of caring.  I want to see progress.  I want to know that this caring can end, that I am not going to be 'needed' like this forever.

And of course the effect of this loss is her ANGER, she is cutting me off.  All the work on our relationship feels lost too.

I COULD summon up the energy to write a letter, to apologise for the things that I have said, but am I really sorry - would that be honest of me?

I really do not know what to do next.  I am trying to do what 'professionals' would advise, I'm exercising, trying to eat okay, not drinking too much.  I really cannot blame this 'loss' on stress, I'm the most stress free I have been in years!!!!!!

So I will do the only thing I know I can do at the moment and continue to count my blessings, the simple gifts that God gives me in abundance that I just need to stop, see and receive.........

960. Leaves blowing in the wind.

961. A baby sleeping on my chest.

962. Watching healthy knees going up and down stairs.

963. The aeroplane bringing my loved one home.

964. The sound of my son cooking.

965. Open windows in November.

966. My swimsuit drying, ready to get wet again.

967. The sounds in the street of life existing.

968. My pot of crochet hooks.

969. Friends dropping round to say hello.

May your days be filled with blessings too xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx