Being a Child Carer

All over the world, there are kids who have taken on the responsibility of looking after their ill parents. There are even some children looking after their siblings. Making sure they eat, bathe, and go to school. Some people think it's crazy, others understand, and some people think it shouldn't be allowed. However this isn't a post about whether it is right or wrong. This is just about my experience as a child carer and its effects.

To anyone who has had to look after a parent or family member, I hope this post helps in some way. You are not alone.

Routine

My nan was everything to me. I remember at a young age running to her after school. No matter how much I saw her, I held so much love for her. I was always excited when she was around. She was kind, strong, and the one stabilising thing in my life.

When I was seven, my nan had a stroke, one that left her paralysed. She could not move on her own or talk. I remember running into the hospital and seeing her on that bed, looking far away and scared. I remember her face lighting up when she saw me, taking hold of my hand and making sure not to let go.

We tried physical therapy and many other things, but nothing worked. She couldn't regain her strength. Finally, my uncle took it upon himself to take care of her, as no one else would. To put it in perspective, my nan had ten kids and only one took her in. My uncle, as kind as he was, taking in me and my brother and looking after my nan, had his problems.

He was often misguided. Still young in his late twenties, he couldn't help but have the itch to forget his responsibilities from time to time. Meaning he would leave me and my brother alone in the house. Sometimes for days or even weeks. Because of this, it was up to me or my brother to take care of our nan. At this time my brother, a teenager, was also going through his own things. He was at that age where he wanted to be out with his friends and not stuck in the house. So he would also go out during these times, leaving it to me to take care of my nan. This went on for years, and it only got harder when my brother went to prison.

My nan was everything to me, so I didn't mind taking care of her. I would make her dinner. Feed her if needed, clean after her, make sure she took her medicine; anything she needed, I was there.

I'd wake up early in the morning to give her her first tablet of the day, make her breakfast, and then wait for the carers (who washed and cleaned her) to arrive. After this I would sit with her, or in the living room watching TV. I'd make her lunch and dinner, making sure she had all her tablets at the correct time.

I remember a lot of those days sitting in the kitchen, wondering when anyone would come home.

For me the only bad times were wondering if my uncle would get back in time for me to go to school. He often didn't, meaning I'd miss days or even a week of school because I couldn't leave my nan.

I remember making plans with friends only for me to cancel because my uncle wasn't home yet. I became isolated. It was a lonely time. I couldn't talk to my friends. How could my friends ever understand what I was going through?

I'd often watch my friends talk about events and things they had done on the weekend, and I'd feel extremely sad knowing I couldn't partake in any of their activities because I'd probably have to stay home.

It wasn't all doom and gloom though, I had my trusty dog, Butch, to keep me company, so I didn't mind.

Falling Apart

As time went on, my family, although we weren't very close to begin with, started to deteriorate. My brother got more and more frustrated with the family. Leaving our family for a new one on the streets and landing a one-way ticket to prison. My uncle got into a bad relationship meaning I saw him even less than usual. The rest of my family were nowhere to be seen. Leaving me and Nan.

As I've said in earlier posts, I think people tend to forget how big of an effect their actions have on young kids. Part of me hated my family. Even at a young age I understood that this was not how families were meant to be.

I got tired of it. I started running away. Sometimes to my aunty's. Sometimes with a friend who would do the same. We would run around on the streets. It was stupid. I see that now. We were so young. But it was the only way we knew how to escape.

I'd need ten hands to count on my fingers how many times we did this. Of course, it didn't achieve anything but a temporary feeling of freedom. We would have to go back. We had no money.

I remember running from the police on numerous occasions. Getting drunk for the first time on one of my little "trips" that I ended up in hospital unconscious. I was spiraling out of control. And I had no one to stop me. But there was a moment that changed everything.

I got sick of everything; I was so tired of it all. I can't remember what it was about, but I had a huge row with my uncle and decided I was leaving, and this time I was not coming back. I went on to live with my aunty, which the family had decided, as they saw my running away as a plea for attention, which I guess was partly true. They thought a change of scenery would help. It didn't. Me and my aunty's arguments were even worse. The isolation that I had experienced at my nan's had followed me. I barely left my room. When I did, I'd end up arguing with my aunty.

After living with her for awhile, she took me out of school, just as I was going into year ten. A crucial time. The reason being... She didn't like the school. This was followed by my absence from education for two years, more isolation. I would see my friends only on the holidays. This was one of the worst times of my life.

My running away continued. No one in my family supported me. I was alone.

Growing Up

The day it changed for me was the day I arrived home from one of my "trips away" and found police waiting. They were waiting for me. The officer, as mean as he was (I guess he was sick of being called out to find runaway kids) said something to me. I can't remember the exact words, but it went a little like this. "In this world, there are only a few people who care about you, so you'd be smart to stop running away from them," and it was true. He had hit me with a hard truth. There are billions of people on this earth and less than a handful actually, truly care for you. Your family.

After that I tried to get my act together, as hard as it was. My family still pushed me to edge all the time. Not allowing me to go to school, I felt like I was wasting away. But finally, I felt the hand of a higher power on my shoulder, leading me to where I was meant to be.

There's a saying: "sometimes things fall apart so that better things can fall together." And never once had it rung more true. Once again, things fell apart for me. I had a huge row with my aunt. She'd accused me of something, realising after she was wrong. She came to apologize and I said to her, "no, I don't want your apology." It was a common occurrence for her to accuse me of things, and as a child it can make you seriously emotionally unstable. So this time I'd decided enough was enough. We had a huge row, and once again I found myself running away. I ended up back at square one: my uncle's.

He and I both knew I could not move back in. We got on like a house on fire when we're apart, but together we would set the house on fire.

The family had a meeting and decided to allow me to see my parents again. So what did they do? They agreed on a day to let me visit, and my uncle dropped me to my mum and dad's house, who I had not seen in five years. They may as well have been strangers. My uncle was meant to pick me up at five o' clock, but he never came back. Not for weeks anyway. So that's how I moved back in with my parents.

I'm alive.

When I see people hurting, I feel it too. I remember at school if I saw someone who looked alone or sad, I would do my best to make them feel happy. Because I knew what it felt like. And I did not want anyone to go through what I did.

Taking care of my nan was a hard experience, and for any child who takes care of a parent/family member, they will understand. It's not easy, but if you love that person, you look past it.

I was lucky. I was not looking after her 24/7, 365 days a year. I had a break, and not a lot of kids have that luxury. It affected me, yes, but I wouldn't take it back.

I watched my uncle take care of my nan for ten years, and I don't know how he pulled it off. He, more than anyone, loved her. They had such a close bond. A true son and mother who loved each other dearly.

My nan wanted nothing more than to see her family together. Especially me and my brother. Her wish partly came true, however, she was not here to see it. My nan died one month ago, and she held on as long as she could. My brother came out of prison three days after her death.

I feel as though I also had an unspoken relationship with her. In her last days, I knew she was ill, but I didn't get to see her before she passed. The night I was meant to see her, I had a work commitment. Sounds stupid to say it. My last chance and I missed it.

I miss her, and I know the reason she held on for so long is because she wanted to see me one last time. I hadn't seen her in almost two years due to family problems. And I regret it more than anything.

But those times I spent with my nan taking care of her, they made me a better person. I truly believe that pain shapes beauty. My soul would not be the same if I had been given a "normal" upbringing. Although I yearn for it sometimes, I know it is a part of me. I mean if I hadn't been given such a rough child hood what the hell would I right about!

Although what I write about my family may give a certain perception, my family were not bad people. I was also spoiled as a child. I may not have been able to go out, or go to school, but they would give me anything else I wanted. They tried their best and thats all anyone can ask for.

To wrap it up nicely, the effects, although stressful at times, have been positive. The isolation I experienced while young, is one of the main reasons I am so comfortable in my own presence. One of my best qualities. Something my other post, my solo holiday, highlights. I had the unique experience of looking after another beautiful soul and it made me who I am. My mum is also ill and I believe she will need my care one day. Good thing I have practise.

So all you child carers stay strong, and to you parents, cherish your children because you are their world, and they need it to be stable.

Ciao!