Let’s get painfully honest for a second: Caregiver burnout isn’t some abstract term you read about in a pamphlet at a doctor’s office. It’s a thing that can absolutely destroy you, and I know because it damn near destroyed me.
I took care of my grandfather—who was actually my dad, he adopted me when I was just a little one—through the last stages of cancer. I watched him disappear piece by piece, and I held him up (literally and figuratively) until the very end. I was there for the falls, the late-night panic, the anger, the grief, the mess. I wore myself out mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually—whatever axis you can name, I was running on fumes.
And you know what happened after he passed? I didn’t bounce back. I blew between eight and ten grand numbing myself with booze, drugs, and strip clubs on Hurley, Wisconsin’s infamous Silver Street. I acted out in ways that would make my therapist wince. And then, two years later, I broke down. I mean really broke down. Caretaker burnout is real, and it’s ugly, and it doesn’t just vanish when the caregiving ends.
You’re Not Alone (No, Really)
If you’re reading this and you feel like you’re losing your damn mind, you’re not alone. If you’re doing everything “right” and still falling apart, you’re not alone. If you’re ashamed of how angry, exhausted, or empty you feel, you’re not alone. The shame is a liar. This isn’t a moral failing. This is what happens when you give more than you have to give, over and over, because you think it’s what love demands.
Burnout can look like tears in the shower, but it can also look like numbness, rage, insomnia, migraines, digestive issues, snapping at everyone you love, or flat-out running away from your life for a while. It’s the urge to just…stop showing up. It’s the guilt when you do.
