Morning

 

The snow is heavy on the ground.

It would not be so bad if I was alone,

but I look after my parents,

so I have to adjust the logistics of the day to make sure their needs are met.

 

My Mum went back to bed with a coffee and seems happy enough to watch television.

But my Dad went round the house muttering to himself.

He feels snowbound already.

He has a full chase of cabin fever.

 

‘I hate the snow,

I can’t go out.’ he told me.

Art by Alena Pam9tka

 

I sat and talked to him,

and he talked about everything.

He was so glad of the distraction.

 

The sun came out,

and I can see the snow melting already.

It probably will not be so bad in the afternoon.

 

The stray cat is in the kitchen.

It is so cold,

and we are trying to keep her warm.

She has a new cushion which seems to please her.

 

I have to check in on everyone,..

my parents and two cats.

 

Swapping places

 

When I read my journal of 2011,

I could see how I was trying to create a template,

a way of living as a carer.

 

It has not been easy.

Some bad times in the past ten years.

 

My parents and I have swapped places.

My Mum and Dad now have to accept guidance from me,

and I make many decisions.

 

This is hard for my parents who do not want to take instruction from their child.

 

They lead the way when I was small,

and now I have a lot of responsibility.

We have swapped places.

 

This is a real challenge for everyone from a psychological point of view.

How do we swap places,

and still have a relationship?

 

We have had to work on this,

to establish a new way of doing things.

My parents deserve respect,

but I still need to make decisions.

 

I have been clumsy and got it wrong a few times.

I have come across as patronising,

and I have had to apologise.

It is always better to apologise,

rather than get defensive and stand in your own corner.

 

It is a learning curve for all three of us.

My Dad has recently tried to help me a lot.

I think he realised how much pressure I was under,

and he has tried to understand.

 

He will admit if he is not strong enough to complete a task,

which is a big deal for a man like my Dad.

He will ask my brothers to step in now,

instead of dismissing me.

 

He also listens more than he did,

and has made a real effort to meet me half way.

I appreciate all that,

as I know he had to face the loss of strength.

He did not want to step aside and let my brothers take over.

 

We are all working on this,

and I suppose this is the price of old age,..

Parents have to step aside time and again,

and let their children lead.

 

Children also feel sad to see the loss of strength in the two people who guarded you when you were small.

It can be so sad,

even deeply upsetting.

But I never want to let them see that I feel this way.

 

Once they chased away nightmares,

told me that there was definitely no monster under the bed,..

(they looked and checked.)

Now I have to take the reins.

Journal

 

I found a Journal from 2011 today.

I began keeping a journal when I became a full time carer.

 

I needed a private space to vent.

I have been a full time carer now for ten years.

 

I was a carer from 4 years old,

but it was always part time.

I still had oceans of time to myself.

I had duties,

and a few bad days,

but I still had my own time.

Maybe too much time for thinking,

but not every day was taken up with responsibilities.

 

This all changed ten years ago.

Now I have no time for myself,

and snatch moments here and there.

I run from task to task,

and am often tired to the bone.

Helen Cody

 

It was interesting to read my thoughts as transcribed in 2011.

I had been a carer for three years at this stage,

and I was still trying to come to terms with it.

 

In those pages,

I am trying to talk myself into a better frame of mind,

and to focus on things that give me pleasure.

I have listed books and movies,

and treats that I have enjoyed.

I have begun new Art classes,

and have taken an interest in arts and crafts.

 

Being a full time carer is exhausting,

and I can see the new strain I am under in those pages.

In 2011, I still feel overwhelmed with my role.

In 2019 I now feel that I just grabbed the edge of a flying carpet and went with the flow.

I hung on,

and did the best I could.

There have been times when I have been so tired I could not move,

but I am still standing after a decade.

Design by Helen Cody

 

My parents are old now,

and I always knew this day would come.

I never wanted them to ask a stranger for help,

but I bear the main responsibility for so much,

as my siblings do not live at home.

It is a strain on a person physically and mentally.

 

I still  want my parents to live their lives in their own home,

and not have to worry about asking for help outside of the home.

But it is hard work.

Art by Alena Pam9tka

 

My Dad has offered to pay for me to stay at a Hotel for a few days if I need a break,

so I do not want to paint a grim picture.

I could get a break if I needed it.

My siblings often offer to take over for a day or even longer if I need to go out or just rest.

So it is not as dark as I am suggesting.

It is just so exhausting at times.

§§

Days of caring

 

My Mum was ill over New Years and it was very stressful.

It is stressful if a Diabetic goes to bed.

She has to get fluids,

so I have to run up and down.

She has to eat as I have to maintain the blood sugar levels.

 

Diabetics are supposed to move around.

They are not supposed to lie still for days.

This is because of circulation.

 

So I have to sometimes urge her to get up and go downstairs,

even just for an hour.

 

She had the Flu,

but got up today.

She had a shower and went downstairs.

It is a relief as it is exhausting to take care of her when she is in bed.

 

It is on top of all the other housework,

and so it all adds up.

It can be the most exhausting situation,

as I never know how long it will go on for.

I also worry if the blood sugars will get out of hand.

That could lead to a run to the Doctors or the Hospital.

§§

Growing up

 

My Mum had a breakdown after she got married.

The shock of losing her independence was too much.

She found that she hated married life,

and having children.

 

She married because she had become isolated,

and she hoped for companionship.

My family have inherited a fear of loneliness,

as I have mentioned before.

We always go for company.

It seems to be part of our DNA,

and we seem powerless against the fear of loneliness.

I suppose she thought that being married would signal an end to loneliness.

 

Her Depression would manifest itself in physical illness,

of which she had many forms.

As her eldest child,

I became her carer.

 

Lethargy,

spending day after day in the house,

looking out of the window,

and always being on call became my life.

 

Each year added to my duties.

As I grew older,

I was given extra work to do.

I look back now,

and I can see how my Mother watched and marked each birthday.

 

Eighteen,

and my Mother officially retired.

I was now eighteen.

The house,

the family were all my responsibility.

She refused to leave her room,

and sank into a very bad Depression.

Even by the standards of the past,

this was a serious situation.

She began to deteriorate mentally and physically.

It was not healthy for anyone,

especially not for her.

 

I reasoned with her,

but after months I finally confronted her.

I made her get up,

and she sulked.

I then told her that her husband and children were her own responsibility.

She started to cry,

and we had a few bad days,

but she saw reason.

 

I know she has regrets,

and will refer to that conversation in particular.

She had never realised the impact her choices had on me before.

She thought she could pass in and out of Depressions,

with no impact on anyone.

I feel frustrated with her,

but I do understand and forgive.

She was not happy in her marriage,

and that was the real problem.

§

If you really look at patients in a Mental Hospital,

I believe that many, if not all of them, are carers.

Some have been carers from a young age,

for all their lives.

I believe that I was ill as a teenager partly due to my life as a carer.

 

I was exhausted.

My life was deeply entwined with others.

I had no separate identity.

I had missed out on key events because I was caring.

I spent too much time at home.

 

I was a young carer,

and faced reprimands and guilt if I did not oblige.

My Aunts would visit and end every visit with ‘a little chat’.

I was told that this was my job,

the home, the family.

Then they would smile and walk away,

leaving a young girl with a burden.

 

This was their way of passing the burden on.

They did not want to help their sister,

they wanted me to take it on,

and leave them free.

It was planned and calculated,

and I find that hard to forgive as well.

 

I sometimes think of speaking up,

and letting my Aunts know that they invested years telling me to be a carer,

and scolding me from time to time if they thought I needed it.

You should do more around the house.

Your Mother only has you.

She is depending on you,

and so are the rest of the family.

You are her daughter.

Or once,

That is your job!

 

Another time,

Oh look! Leah is washing the dishes!

She is actually doing something!

 

The language around a carer can be a problem.

There is little gratitude,

few kind words or encouragement.

The language can involve guilt, blame,

and even sarcastic comments.

 

I find this hard to forgive,

and I have resentment towards my relatives who spoke to me in this way.

I believe that this happens in families,

and that young carers should receive support.

I wish those who work in mental health would understand how a young carer can become unwell.

The need to grow up fast,

to carry a heavy burden,

to manage responsibility at a young age can all take a toll.

 

I also believe that being a carer can enrich a person and their life.

It is not all dark,

there is just a need for balance.

Grape Art

 

 

 

Grief

 

I cannot recover because of grief.

We always take care of our old,

but on one occasion we did not.

One old man spent his last days in a Nursing Home.

He also lost his own home,

as other relatives moved in.

They did not chase him,

but they did act a little like squatters.

They turned up,

moved in,

and made him feel it was not his own home anymore.

Art by Alena Pam9tka

 

He left this house,

and was not financially compensated.

Legally, he was entitled to the price of this home.

 

He was homeless,

and no one would take him in.

He entered a Nursing Home.

Art by Alena Pam9tka

 

All this happened when I was a baby.

I feel guilt as my parents did not volunteer,

as they felt they had a newborn to cope with.

So indirectly,

I feel responsible.

 

His brother was in America,

and came home.

He did live with us when he was old,

but always blamed my parents for what had happened.

 

I think he also felt some guilt,

as he could have taken his own brother to America to live with him,

or could have come home and offered a home here.

He had made a lot of money in America,

and was a rich man.

 

There is a lot of guilt floating around.

We all bicker,

but we have never put any relative in a Nursing Home.

This only happened once,

and now no one can forget it.

It is source of guilt in the family.

 

Sometimes it will come up,

and people will start to cry.

Stories

When I really think about it, I have been surrounded by wounded people for all of my life.

This began with my Mother, who became ill after the birth of her first child, myself.  The Doctor was so concerned by this that he made her promise to have no more children.  But my Mum did have children, thankfully, as I did not want to be an only child.

However, each birth made her unwell, and physically she has never regained full health.

§

My Father had depression, something that I witnessed as the eldest child.

I come from a family with a history of depression and alcoholism, and so the adults around me have all been affected with these issues.

§

When I became depressed myself, I went into a Hospital.  There I met people who had had difficult life experiences.  We would share in a group, and in a way those stories jolted me out of my own depression.

I realised that some people do not have a home or a Mum and Dad who loved them.

At the time, I felt that this was terrible, as I wanted to get home to my own parents, and felt for these wounded people who had known homelessness and addiction.

§

I also learned a lot about compassion at that time, and about listening to someone who needs to tell their story.

§

Since then, I have encountered human suffering on many levels.  My question now is what to do with all this?

I want my heart to grow, and to contain compassion for everyone I meet.

I want never to forget that other people need love, even in my own worst moments.

I know depression can make me inward-looking.  I also hope that my own suffering can make me more sensitive to other people, and understanding of their needs.

§

I also know that I get tired.  I have been a carer for many years, and I do get exhausted sometimes.

Sometimes I feel that as I journey in this way, I cannot solve the problems of another person, but I can be a witness.  When I sat in groups all those years ago, and listened, then I did not cure anyone.  But I was a witness to their life story, and perhaps they needed that at the time.

§§

At home

When I was a child, my parents made the decision to help relatives who had breakdowns, or who were drinking.

This meant that someone was always living with us as a family.

This placed a strain on my parents who acted as care givers, and on the children.

We struggled for physical space, in  a house with too few bedrooms, and we struggled with privacy.

We spent time trying to shield each other from the ‘guests’, who might be cranky, or sarcastic.

If you have been around someone when they are drinking, or trying to stop drinking, then you will understand about sarcasm.

§§

As we moved into our teenage years, my siblings grew weary of this state of affairs.  They began to stay with their boyfriends or girlfriends, and would disappear in the Summer or at Christmas for a few days at a time.

They wanted a break.

However, even this did little to ease the tension.

§

Finally, I asked my parents to rethink this.

I was 21 at the time.

§

We had spent all my life living this way.

We could not continue in this way.  Plus, this placed a financial strain on us.

§

So we changed.  Now people come, and we try to offer support and counsel, but they go home at the end of the day.

§

I feel that this a healthier situation.  We keep our privacy, and I feel it is a healthier situation for our relatives also.