the weight of caregiving has left me with little energy for much else, today i feel compelled to speak about what it means to be a caregiver.
for years, i've carried the title without recognition.
i am a full-time caregiver for four different people—not as a profession, but as a work born of necessity and love.
i receive no paycheck.
no benefits.
no paid time off.
my family is my work, and my work never ends.
my youngest son (20) has level 2 autism accompanied by severe anxiety and depressive disorders. the last four years have been particularly challenging. while he's currently stable, i've come to accept that this will be my reality for the foreseeable future. the traditional parenting path—where children grow up and leave to build their own lives—isn't my journey.
my older son (23) battles multiple autoimmune disorders that make traditional employment nearly impossible in a system that demands constant productivity.
recently, i've taken on full-time care for my mother, who moved from florida last june as her mental health rapidly deteriorated following my stepfather's death. with back-to-back knee surgeries. before that, i was his caretaker during the final seven months of his life, helping him transition as he suffered with pancreatic cancer.
just this past tuesday.
i navigated four different medical appointments for three different family members. i spent 4 hours driving across the city.
the truth about caregiving
let me speak a truth that few acknowledge.
caregiving is not inherently rewarding.
yes, i love my family deeply. yes, i want to care for them. but after years upon years of caregiving, you begin to lose yourself. your own needs become distant memories, abstract concepts you once understood but can no longer access.
the conditioning that prepared me for this role runs deep.
my mother's bipolar disorder and depression meant that monitoring her wellbeing has been my constant since childhood. untangling this history while continuing to provide care is a complex process i am still navigating.
during my research on the effects of caregiving, i discovered the care badge—an initiative that at first seemed almost trivial yet resonated with me profoundly. this badge, which can be added to your resume or linkedin profile, acknowledges the skills and experience gained through unpaid caregiving work.
the validation we need
when i learned about this badge, i felt an unexpected sense of validation. it recognized that what i do matters. it acknowledged that if i manage to accomplish anything beyond caregiving—whether tending a garden, starting a business, or simply holding down a job—it represents a significant achievement.
i am not hiding.
i am not reclusive, flighty, or uncommitted.
i'm tired.
i'm constantly tending to four other people, leaving little energy for myself. i have internalized a sense of failure because i can't do it all, but the truth is simpler: i'm exhausted and my reserves are depleted.
when i don't return your call or seem to drop the ball on initiatives i am passionate about—ideas that could make the world better—it's not for lack of commitment. it's for lack of time and energy.
and please, spare me the advice to "make time for myself" or "invest in myself."
when you love the people you care for, when their wellbeing is inextricably linked to your own, such advice can feel like an additional burden rather than a relief.
what support actually looks like
what i'm searching for isn't someone to prepare meals for me—after all these years of caregiving, i've mastered those practical skills. what i need is someone who recognizes my ideas and their potential, someone willing to put effort into helping those ideas flourish because they understand these ideas could help others.
i need people to see me and withhold judgment about my availability. i need understanding without having to justify or prove my need for it.
the care badge offers a start. created by archangels and the joint commission, it translates caregiving skills into professional opportunities. it's a symbol that declares "i know how to care" in an economy that increasingly values these skills.
according to their website,
43% of adults in the u.s. serve as unpaid caregivers across all demographics. the care badge connects these caregivers to a movement that celebrates their ability to get things done under challenging circumstances. it can be displayed on social media, resumes, and job applications, helping to bridge the gap between the talent pool of unpaid caregivers and employers across various sectors.
with potential for workforce development, upward mobility, recruitment, and retention, the care badge represents the beginning of recognizing the significant contributions and transferable skills of unpaid caregivers.
the truth of my reality
i am not flighty. i do not lack commitment. i simply have people who need me—A LOT.
and in that reality, any achievement beyond caregiving isn't just an accomplishment. it's a small miracle.
Photo by allison christine on Unsplash
resources for caregivers:
the care badge - translate your caregiving skills into professional opportunities
national alliance for caregiving - research, advocacy, and resources for caregivers
caregiver action network - education, peer support, and resources
family caregiver alliance - services, education, and advocacy
aarp caregiving resources - tools, tips, and resources for family caregivers
well spouse association - support for spousal caregivers
autism society - resources for families affected by autism
depression and bipolar support alliance - support for families dealing with mood disorders
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