Ever experienced “caregiver burnout”?
I’ve given this quite a bit of thought over the years. These days, we see it publicly as it manifests with our personal support workers, nurses, long-term care homes, etc. I can certainly empathize; the idea of around-the-clock care is daunting, particularly with longer shifts, and less peer support due to staff shortages, wages, and so on.
For a very long time, I have been a part of this condition in a personal way. I have frequented support group pages on social media, and I have read countless stories of individual challenges ranging from access to services all the way to people completely coming apart at the seams because of the enormity of the tasks they are faced with. If I were to shine a light on children’s mental health – ASD, ADD, DMDD, ADHD, FASD, and probably a dozen more acronyms depicting what is an incredible journey for even the strongest amongst us – I would tell a story of a modern-day epidemic with a woefully unwinnable strategy to respond to it. I have been with countless people both in professional and parental roles and shared their frustration with navigating the broken systems and the intolerance of mainstream society.
I write this because I have developed a perspective that is forged in fire. I can tell you firsthand what it feels like to completely break down, unprovoked at the least convenient times. I can tell you about the absurdity of being offered “respite care” so that you can catch a movie or grab a coffee – as if that is supposed to help you regroup and return to a tough reality. I can tell you what it feels like to be completely suicidal – when the pain just shoots right past what you can talk yourself through. I know the heartbreak of getting so close to a workable plan, only for it to be canceled.
The fact is, as a society we have moved well beyond what works, and the beautiful simplicity in which the human species can thrive. I can’t help but notice that the rate of occurrence runs parallel to a few other milestones in our society; the breakdown of the family unit, consumer debt, a completely unsustainable work/life balance, and I’ll even throw Sunday shopping in there. You want solutions that actually help people? They need real-time to BREATHE. Peer support can’t work if people are too burned out. Society is stuck on the hamster wheel that we have created in this world. Work, commute, do more work from home, answer cell phones, text people, worry about work. You get the picture.
I have to say – I used to live in the North years ago and after decades in the city have now returned permanently. One of the most remarkable things I observed is the overall level of calm amongst the people I encounter. This is a key thing – there is virtually no traffic at night, families and friends are together on weekends, and most importantly, you can actually stop and just take things in whenever you like. This is but a small step, but I can tell you that being able to unplug more often is probably the one and only thing that reliably lets me regain some strength and feel some relief. There are a lot of people who are hurting and tired. Encourage yourself and encourage others to take a proper day off regularly.
It should be of no surprise that so many people, particularly caregivers, are up to their eyeballs in unrealistic expectations of what they can do. In Northern Ontario, we’re afforded the luxury of seeing spectacular sunsets nightly. Most of us are in close proximity to picturesque lakes and forests. Stop. Breathe. Unplug. Make yourself a priority above all other priorities. We’ve got something good going on in the north, so let’s take advantage of it.
Sincerely, The November Witch
