My Life as a Carer

A few years ago my life changed completely. My husband and I thought we had all we needed. We were happy and content, looking forward to the future. We hadn’t been married long so we were still full of all the hopes and dreams for the future.

We not only lived together but worked together too. We were both teachers in a college. Working and living together might not work for a lot of people but for us it did. I can honestly say we were meant to be together.

One afternoon as I was helping in my husband’s class, the room went silent. I turned to find my husband in tears– body shaking tears. The uncontrollable sobbing seemed to come from nowhere but looking back now the signs had been there. Everyone was stunned and, for what felt like an eternity, no one moved or said anything.

My husband had suffered a massive breakdown due to the stress of work. I have since discovered he had been working till 3 AM doing paperwork and then getting up at 7 AM for work. His body just shut down. Appointments at doctors, hospitals, and psychologists followed but eventually, the stark reality was realized and we were told my husband was never going to work again. He needed full-time care 24 hours a day. He was terrified constantly and then finally reverted to being a child. He couldn’t be left alone, not even for a second.

So I was left with two options fight or flight. Did I stay and fight or walk away from taking on the caring role?

Staying meant giving up work, caring full time for someone who was now a child in a man’s body. He believes in Santa and the tooth fairy, which is very surreal. There would be no children. He was scared of strangers and busy places. Normal adult life would cease to exist. Friends had already started to slowly drop away. They didn’t know what to say to him or how to react.

Leaving meant carrying on working, having friends, a social life, maybe meeting someone else, marriage, and having the children, which I so wanted.

What would you choose: fight or flight? It isn’t as easy a decision as you might think.

I picked to stay and fight and I still do so every single day. I fight through the loneliness, the tears, and tantrums. I sit up on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa. It’s the hardest and most stressful job I could have imagined. A job I wouldn’t wish on anyone but also the most rewarding. The happiness, laughter, smiles, and childish joy.

My mental health suffered considerably and I spiraled into depression. With friends and family having already drifted away, no one noticed or was there for me.

I think carers get lost in the system somehow. This is mainly as they are so focused on the person they care for that they miss the warning signs for themselves. I hope that one day there is far more support for carers and that fewer people have to struggle in the way I have.

I feel that I am truly blessed. The love we have for each other has never waned. Do I regret it? Not for one single second. He’s my soulmate and I wouldn’t change him for the world.

It’s been a learning curve for both of us. I have learned different coping mechanisms for keeping calm. I don’t get time to myself, but when he is asleep I do try and read and just clear my mind.

Why did I choose to Fight? Love

Would I make that same decision again? Absolutely